First Universal Fidelity Bank was about what you'd expect. Concrete and steel beams around tinted windows. It screamed solid and private, as if the money inside needed a place to hide. A free-standing sculpture in the shape of a shield was inscribed with the slogan "FUFB -- Your Safe Place to Save."
Felicity stood with her hands on her hips and studied the building. If she looked hard and long enough, she might find a back way inside, but if they tried sneaking in, she and Jason could set off an alarm. In her persona as a mild-mannered orchid hybridizer, she might not seem a dangerous proposition, but even in their normal clothing, the two of them didn't belong in the back hallway of a bank. They'd get their butts arrested and hauled off to jail. No, they'd need a frontal approach.
She tapped Jason on the shoulder. "Let's go inquire about bank services."
"I wouldn't mind being serviced," he answered.
When he started toward the front door, she caught his arm. "We're not going to be fooling around in there. This is serious business."
"I take fooling around very seriously."
"Look, kid, don't get cocky," she said.
"I thought getting cocky with the clients was in my job description."
"It is, and normally, I'd leave you and your instrument to your own devices, but this is different." How could she explain what they'd be up against if they encountered Sly? She hadn't seen her mentor for years and couldn't know what kinds of powers he'd accumulated in that time. She had no way of warning Jason about what sort of enemy they'd face.
"Sly, aka Sylvester, has been using this as his theatre of operations. We don't know who inside is his ally, whether we'll be under surveillance, what kinds of weapons will be trained on us," she said.
"You make this sound like a war."
"It is."
"I thought we were lovers, not fighters," he said.
"You've never used sex as a weapon?"
His expression clouded. She forgot sometimes how innocent he was. Just because he could fuck like a mad bastard didn't mean he wasn't a wholesome guy with a pure heart. Her sweet Jason. What was she dragging him into?
"No, I don't use sex as a weapon," he said. "And neither do you."
"That's not exactly true. I can give people a zap of the slut ray, and boing! they'll do whatever I want."
"Slut Ray. I like that. We should trademark it."
"We will,” she said. “Later. For now, I want you to understand what a sex battle involves."
An older woman leaving the bank brushed past them on her way to the parking lot. She might have overheard the phrase "sex battle," because she paused and gaped at them for a few seconds. Then she shook her head and walked away, mumbling. Something like "Sex fighting...imagine...not in my day...damn it all."
When she got out of earshot, Jason turned his attention back to Felicity. "So, why don't you tell me about sex battles."
"Anything goes. What feels natural may not be," she said. "Most important -- try to exercise some judgment. Don't put your cock anyplace you normally wouldn't."
"That doesn't tell me much."
"That's all I can say until I know exactly what we're fighting. Now, let's go reserve the conference room for a civic betterment function."
When they crossed the threshold into the main area of the bank, everything seemed as it should be or, if not as it should be, as it usually was in banks. Of the six teller stations, only two were open. At the head of one line, a customer had spread enough papers for several years' tax forms, and half a dozen people queued up behind him. An equal number of patrons waited at the other open station. No one was getting out of this with his or her business done in the near future.
Instead of dealing with that mess, Felicity went up to the security guard. "Can I speak to someone in charge?"
He gave her a lazy shrug. "In charge of what?"
"Oh, I don't know...anything. Let's start with using the conference room."
The guard inclined his head toward a bank of desks. "Over there."
A bank of unoccupied desks. A woman stood at a file cabinet against the wall, keeping her back to them. Talk about your customer service.
She returned her attention to the guard. "Care to be any more specific?"
"Anybody over there," he said.
"Thanks." She grabbed Jason’s arm. "Let's go."
Instead of waiting at the swinging gate that separated the desk area from the main part of the bank, Felicity pushed it open and headed straight for the file cabinet and the sole warm, breathing human being around. She got right in front of the woman so she couldn't ignore the fact that someone wanted her.
"May we be of service?" the woman asked. Her expression held as much interest as if she were staring into a vat of vanilla pudding. "Here at FUFB we're your safe place to save."
"We'd like to speak to someone about using the bank's conference room," Felicity said. "Strictly civic betterment, you understand."
The woman straightened, and her eyes shifted around a bit. "The conference room?"
"You have a conference room, right?"
"Uh..." The woman paused as if she had to decide what her final answer would be. "Yes."
"And it's available for use by the public, am I right about that, too?"
"For civic betterment?" the woman said.
"That's what we're here for here, aren't we, Jay?"
"You betcha," he said. "We're, like, totally into civic betterment. 24/7. That's us, all around."
The woman made a gesture that they weren't supposed to notice but in actually screamed "I'm going to do something I don't want you to see" and reached around to the other side of the cabinet. Pushing a silent alarm, no doubt. Banks were usually full of those. What to do now?
If the police showed up, the woman and the bank would have a hard time proving she and Jason had tried anything funny. No weapons aside from the Slut Ray, which she hadn‘t used…yet. (Definitely need to trademark Slut Ray.) No notes demanding money. They'd probably do best staying right where they were instead of trying to get away, which would make them look guilty.
No uniformed officers appeared, though, and the security guard maintained his I-don't-give-a-shit attitude. Where had that alarm gone off?
A door opened in another wall, and another woman appeared. This one wore a dress-for-success suit, complete with low-heeled pumps. With discreet make-up and beautifully coiffed gray hair, she was an attractive female, most likely in her fifties.
"This way, please," she said without the slightest attempt at an introduction. She held the door open and waited for them, one brow lifted in a silent command.
"Remember what I said about using good judgment," Felicity muttered to Jason before heading to the woman and the open doorway.
The woman led them down a hallway with what looked like executive offices. Muted sunlight from the banks of windows they'd noticed outside fell on plush carpets and heavy wooden furniture. She kept going until she got to the corner suite.
"You can leave us," she said to a young man sitting at the secretary's desk in the outer office then led them into her inner sanctum and closed the door behind her. "Well, now. What can we do for you today?"
"Civic betterment," Felicity said. "We'd like to reserve your conference room."
"Balderdash." The woman walked behind her huge desk and took her seat. Not so much as a scrap of paper cluttered the highly-polished surface. In fact, nothing sat on top except for an ultra-modern telephone. Not even a family picture. She didn't indicate that they should sit, but Felicity did in one of the visitor's chairs. Jason took the other.
"I don't know what you've been told, but there are procedures for joining the seminars," the woman said. "I don't have any paperwork on either of you. Who are you, by the way?"
"Felicity Plumswindle. Nice to meet you." Procedures, paperwork. She should have asked Frank about that. They'd all been so post-fuck happy, filling in forms had been the last thing on her mind.
“This is an emergency,” Felicity said. “My husband wants me to have sex with him all the time.”
Jason stared at her. She should have thought up a story before they got here so she could clue him in. Still, couldn’t he follow along without a map?
She put her hand on his arm. “You know you do, dear.”
“I do?” he said. “That is, of course, I do.”
She gave the woman a sick smile. “You know how men are. They never leave you alone. And if a man’s…oh, what’s that dirty word…his member is as big as my Jason’s is, it hurts.”
“I never hurt you!” he said.
Felicity glared at him. He huffed. “Well, I didn’t.”
“I’m hoping to enroll him in one of the seminars so I can get some rest,” she concluded.
If the woman on the other side of the desk had had a beard, she’d be stroking it now. She sat there, rubbing her chin, and gazing at Jason as if he was the answer to her prayers. “Big, you say?”
“Perfectly huge. I wish I’d known before we got married, but we were both virgins.” Felicity reached over and patted the front of Jason’s pants. Unless she missed her guess, her “virgin husband’s” perfectly huge cock would see action in the next few minutes.
He flinched for a half-second before settling down. After a moment, he parted his legs and sent the woman a sultry smile. Underneath the fabric of his slacks, his cock stirred. Soon it would be bumping up against the waistband. Felicity continued rubbing as he grew and grew.
“How mortifying,” Felicity said. “I hate to show you this, but you can see why I need Sylvester’s help.”
“Do tell.” The woman rose and came around the desk, finally sitting on the edge. She stared at Felicity’s hand and the outline of Jason’s cock as it became more visible. “Ah yes, I see your problem.”
“Not only that, but he wants me to engage in perversions,” Felicity said. “I can’t even repeat the words.”
“I like to eat pussy.” Jason said without missing a beat.
“And he doesn’t mean our pet cat. Isn’t it dreadful?” Felicity exclaimed.
By now, the woman was squirming, probably rubbing her clit against the edge of her desk. Jason and his world-class tool and taste for pussy could do that to a woman.
“Do tell us he can enroll in the seminar,” Felicity said. “We’ll do anything.”
“Anything,” Jason repeated.
“Hm.“ The woman bit her lip for a moment. “I suppose…yes…I’ll have to evaluate just how bad his sex addiction is. You understand.”
“Jason, I think you’d better give the nice lady a demonstration.”
“You’re right, dear wife.” He stood and unzipped his fly so the woman could get a good look at his boner. He’d done a magnificent job, as usual, and she stared at it, her mouth hanging open.
Then, he knelt in front of her desk and lifted her skirt. Underneath was a slip, but when he pushed that up, too, he exposed a naked pussy. The somber bank executive lady went commando. You never knew with people.
Jason went to work. His head obliterated the view of what his tongue was doing, but the expression on her face said volumes. Her features went slack with arousal, and her eyes drifted closed.
“Ah…shit…yes. Evil,” she said. “Pure evil.”
“I told you,” Felicity said. “Evil in its purest form.”
The woman grasped Jason’s head, digging her fingers into his hair. “Bad, bad. Up a little. That‘s it. A bit more.”
Jason adjusted his head, and the woman let out a yip. He’d definitely hit her hot spot. She started shaking and quaking…a woman on the threshold of a really good orgasm, her breath coming in gasps.
“Dirty.” Now, she was almost panting like a dog. “Filthy. Fuck.”
“He can do that, too,” Felicity said.
“Don’t stop. Don’t…shit…stop!” Her voice broke, soaring into a shout that bounced off the walls. If the secretary had returned to his desk in the anteroom, he had to have heard it. She kept wailing for a moment and then finished with a sigh.
When the orgasm ended, she flopped back against the desk, her legs dangling over the side. Jason stood, clutching the base of his cock in his hand. He glanced at Felicity. Asking for permission to proceed.
“Give her a minute. Then, we’ll talk some more.”
Will Jason get to use his tool to collect information from a bank executive? Will he and Felicity get closer to confronting Sly? And what is the guy in the next room doing right now?
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