You head to work

Your mom has a nice breakfast of eggs and toast for you and you scarf down the food and head off to your job at the bank. You took a job as a teller at a local bank as you were not ready to head off to college. Kate was already a junior in college, and a cheerleader to boot. She was pretty, smart and always a success at everything she did. You on the other hand found school a total bore, and had no idea what you wanted to do with your life.

At age 19 you were just kind of cruising through the day waiting to see what happened. One of your mom’s friends had gotten you the job at the bank and it paid well enough to entertain you, but not well enough for you to move out to your own place. You have never had much success with the girls at work, but they are a bunch of hot ones. Girls you would give your eye teeth to fuck, and your left nut as well. You pull into the driveway of the bank and head in. There is Sally the branch manager, your mother’s friend, and then there is Kelly and Debra. Kelly is a couple of years older than you, short, with dark hair and a firm, rock hard body. Her tits are big, her ass is tight and when she wears short skirts her legs are fine. Debra is in her mid thirties, well preserved mother of two. You think sometimes that she is coming onto you, but you have never let things go too far. Then there is Sally your mom’s friend, she is in her mid forties, but looks 15 years younger. She is a runner so she is real lean, but her tits still look nice and round and look bigger than the B cup they are because of how thin Sally keeps herself. Sally is also a cold bitch most of the time, but she treats you OK most of the time, but one time she caught you staring at her tits one day when she wore a low cut blouse and you had to put up with a long lecture on sexual harassment. Sally is really by the book.

You head into the office and see that you are the first one there other than Sally. She says, “Jake go into the vault and count out last nights till. Kelly is late and I can’t wait for her anymore.”

“Sure thing Sally,” you answer. You hate counting out the tills, but figure what the hell it will give you some time to think about what happened this morning and maybe make some sense of it.