Like Father, like son.

"I don't know if I can swing that much out of the payroll accounts, Kayla." You inch your chair a little closer, the result of which is, now your hands and hers are resting right above the bulge in your shorts. "But I could give you a personal...gift. You could call it a loan, but I wouldn't be too harsh about when it needed to be paid back." You could liquidate some of your stock portfolio without too much trouble. "But that's a big ask. I think I'd need..." you lean back a little... "...something in return."
Your eyes meet and she understands the meaning of your words. A small flash of disappointment crosses her face before it becomes blank.
"I...I see." After a moment, she nods. "I think I can manage that..." she doesn't sound pleased, but she doesn't hesitate either. Her hand reaches for your zipper, pulling open your fly and fishing inside for your cock.
"You really are Frank's son. In..." her eyes widen... "every way."
That stings a little, you realize. You don't really know why you're doing this, but if she's willing, for the favor you're doing for her, why should you not take advantage of the situation?
You reach for her, with fingers brushing her cheek and a thumb tracing her pink lips. "He... had good taste." She pops your thumb into her mouth, sucking on it lewdly, with eyes closed. She's not exactly thrilled about this arrangement, but she seems determined to see it through, now.
You lean back and put your arms up, while Kayla pops your cock into the open. She does seem genuinely impressed.
"You have the Sinclair cock, for sure." And she begins to bob up and down with gusto, slicking it with her spit and stroking with one hand while she pulls her mane of blond hair out of the way with the other.
"Slow down, girl. We aren't in any rush. It's a marathon, not a sprint." You run your hands through her hair as she slows her pace, really giving every spot her attention. Perhaps, she had hoped to pop you off quick. for $5000 from your personal portfolio, you're going to get your money's worth.
For a few more minutes, she continues to polish your pecker with almost businesslike efficiency, but after a while, she starts getting into the spirit of things. She starts moaning and rubbing her tits through her sweater. She pulls off the head to kiss and suckle at your ballsack, stroking up at the tip while she does.
"Jeeeesus, Kayla. That's good." she gives you a wink.
"I have my talents." she's starting to relax now. The discomfort of what she's doing: basically whoring her mouth out to you, is passing away in favor of humor and arousal. "And you have a nice, clean cock. Thick, well proportioned. It's not a cartoonish, porno cock. It's a real dick. Jenna's a lucky girl.."
You spare a thought for your lovely wife, but that's not really helpful right now.
"Want to make an extra $500 on top?" She looks uncertain for a minute, but then she nods.
"Lose the sweater and the bra. Let me see those puppies."
She can't peel them off fast enough, and you chuckle. Her round, enhanced tits pop free, and you grab a palmful of one. Fake or not, they feel spectacular.
"Sold..." she resumes her bobbing, occasionally pausing to rub her titties against your shaft and balls.
Wow... your getting close. This is totally worth it, but maybe you should press your luck...