by Nicole Casey
“It screams ‘countryside’ all over it,” she answered as she shut the oven off, removed her apron and shooed me off my seat. She then began to push me back up to my bedroom. “Come on, you need to put on something that’ll make you stand out.”
Just what I needed: fashion advice from my mom.
As soon as we got into my room she dug through the clothes that I had yet to pack and eventually came up with something for me to wear. However, one of them didn’t seem quite right for her and she took a pair of scissors from the top of my drawers and cut up something with her back turned to me. When she was done she quickly shoved a few things at me and looked at me with impatient eyes.
“Uh, mom?” I didn’t know what she was waiting for. She just stood in front of me silently.
“Go on, change,” she ushered with a hand. “Don’t be shy, I’ve seen you naked honey. I’m your mom, after all.”
I rolled my eyes and realized how silly I was. I blushed back at her but even then I took off my shirt. I didn’t even get to put on the pink tank top my mom gave me when she suddenly stopped me. I looked at her and she had a disappointing look on her face.
She didn’t say a word and just motioned for me to turn around. I did so and to my surprise she took off my bra.
“Mom?” I gasped out.
“Your have nice breasts honey,” she pointed out as she turned me to face her. “A bra will be ridiculous. Besides, you need to learn to flaunt your assets, sweetie. You’re already old enough to drink but you’ve never brought a boyfriend over to house.”
“I’ve never had one,” I reminded her.
She hummed in disappointment, “I know. So put yourself out there. Show off a little. Now, let’s work on the jeans.”
I slid on the tank top and took off my jeans. I tossed them to the side. It kind of hurt me to see them thrown down – they’ve been my favorite since I was sixteen – but I guess my mom was right. I did have a nice body but I always hid it underneath big, baggy clothes.
My eyes went wide when I saw the cloth she had cut and chopped with the scissors. It was one of my old denim shorts. When I put them on they were so short they could have been panties. I felt a little awkward and when I took a step I worried I’d get a wedgie. I turned to look at my butt just to make sure my ass cheeks were covered.
This whole outfit was so freaking revealing.
“I look like I belong in a ‘Dukes of Hazard’ episode,” I told my mom. “I can’t possibly go to the city like this.”
She smiled and suddenly gave my ass a slap, “Sure you can. Trust me, no matter what kind of business you want to open in the city you’re bound to succeed. You’ve got bigger brains than my tits combined, sweetheart. But you also got to be confident. This will help you, trust me.”
I looked at myself in the mirror. She was right though; I did look really pretty. The shorts made my long legs stand out and both my hair and big breasts were noticeable with the tiny top. Maybe if I had the confidence – and the height – I could be a model.
“Okay,” I sighed and caved in. “I’ll keep this on only if you let me have one of those cookies you’re making downstairs.”
My mom giggled and relented. She took me by the arm and we headed down to have ourselves a quick little snack.
It was just an hour later that I had to bid her farewell.
By sunset I was on a bus and on my way to the big city. Seated there, all I could think about during the ride was how all my dreams were about to come true.
2
Marcus
I looked at the calendar on my laptop. I groaned when I saw it was still Wednesday. Most people hate Mondays because it was the start of the workweek. I hated Wednesdays the most because it was smack-dab in the middle of the week. I was already exhausted but there were still two more days before I could sit back and relax.
Ring!
Lazily I picked up the landline phone on my office desk and greeted, “Good afternoon, thank you for calling Phoenix Banking. My name is Marcus Phoenix, how may I help you?”
As I expected, it was another wannabe businessman hoping I could help him secure a loan and start up his dream. Unfortunately, his business of “automated pick-up lines via text messages” didn’t sound viable enough for me to sign on. I had to politely decline but I did refer him to a colleague of mine who did take on such bizarre clients.
When I put the phone back down I looked at my laptop real quick. There weren’t any new emails coming in and my pile of work for the day was long done. I take pride in being a quick worker but that did leave me with one issue: now I had nothing to do.
I picked up the phone again and dialed for an internal number. My secretary, Felicia, instantly picked up and greeted me with her usual dry tone.
“Sir?”
“I’m going to call it a day. Could you stay around for at least another hour and then go ahead and close down the office?” I told her and then put the phone back down. I gathered my important papers and neatly slid them into a folder before I got up, put on my coat and walked out of my office.
Felicia was by her desk, typing away – probably fixing my schedule for next week or inputting the data about our recent clients into our database. I simply gave her desk a tap and then nodded farewell at her before I walked out of the waiting area and out into the parking lot.
The cold wind blasted my face as soon as I stepped out and I couldn’t help but sigh in relief. My office wasn’t small by any means – it was probably the biggest banking office owned and run by a single man in this entire city, to be honest – but it still felt claustrophobic at times. Maybe it was time I hired a few rookie bankers to work under me so I could take some time off. It’d be nice to be a real “boss” man for a change.
I hopped into my car and drove off. I wandered around aimlessly for a few minutes as I tried to enjoy the freedom I had of working for no one but myself. I even plugged in my smartphone to the dashboard and played some classic rock to really set the mood.
After a few minutes, I realized I was a little thirsty. Without even thinking, I took the next exit off the main highway and drove off to the city outskirts, which was where my favorite bar and restaurant was. There was no better place to get hammered than Mercury Wild.
I sped through the traffic, weaving in and out so I could get there quickly. Even then, the congestion was thick and it was nearly six o’clock by the time I got there. The sun was going down and by now there might already be too many people in the bar for me to have a moment all to myself.
The parking lot was slightly filled but not as bad as I thought it would be. That got me to sigh in relief. I parked close to the entrance and then walked in.
Immediately, I was greeted by the familiar dim lights, the sound of a live band playing in the center and the sight of numerous gorgeous girls going around having drinks and dancing to the music. A lot of the tables were already filled but I fortunately found a corner where I could sit.
That corner was already occupied but it was my friend Daxter. He was a former firefighter turned model. He just recently quit that life, however, when his elder brother died and he became the sole heir to the family business. He and his wife, Noelle, launched a fashion company that quickly took the world by storm.
“Hey,” I greeted them both with a smile as I sat down at their table.
“You look tired,” Noelle greeted. She slid me an extra bottle of beer.
I took it without second thought and gulped down. “Yeah,” I admitted. “Well, ‘bored’ is the better word, I guess.”
“You know why you’re bored?” Daxter asked. He then answered his own question, “It’s because you’re a billionaire working in a tiny-ass office. Dude, you can afford hiring a dozen staff members to do all your work for you.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to explain, “Yeah, sure, but there’s no guarantee my employees would be as good as I am. I want to maintain a level of quality and the more I hire the less likely I’ll have quality control.”
Noelle wagged a finger, “No one is going to be as good as you are. You’re the best banker there is. You helped us when we thought our fashion business was so extravagant no one would invest in it. You proved us wrong. You got us investors. You got us a big loan.”
Maybe they were right.
Maybe it was time I used my money and expanded my business. I was thinking of hiring some people just a while ago, after all. This was just confirming my own thoughts.
“I can handle at least one more client on my own,” I then decided. “I’ll go solo for just one more. Whether it works out or not I’ll put in the dough and expand.”
Little did I know my next client would be the one to change everything.
3
Natasha
“How old did you say you were again?” I looked at the loan officer and repeated myself again, “I’m twenty-one. It was just my birthday two weeks ago.”
He was a little bit on the old side, with a balding head and a beer belly. The man scrunched up his face, looked at my application again and then handed it back to me.
“Look here, I really want to help you; I do. I think you’ve got a really nice idea that could be profitable. However, you’re young, you’re not even done with college and you’ve got no business experience.”
Oh shit. He was going to reject my loan application. I did my best to distract him and maybe get him on my side. I leaned in a little closer and pressed my arms against my tits, hoping he’d see my cleavage more through the tight white shirt I had on. I then looked up at him with big puppy eyes and fluttered my eyelashes his way.
“Cute,” he said when he noticed me trying to flirt with him. “I’m gay. The answer’s no.”
So once again I got ‘no’ for an answer. This was the fourth bank agent I’ve been to ever since I got in the city and it was the fourth loan officer to turn my loan application down. I walked into this bank with a lot of optimism and had to walk out sulking and cold.
At least I felt glad for wearing those skimpy shorts my mom gave me. It was blistering hot today and I’d probably had passed out if I was wearing anything thicker.
I hung my head low and just sighed in sorrow as I walked over to the bus stop. The only person there was another girl, around my age, sitting on the bench. She was taller than me and had on a cute black leather outfit. She seemed kind of goth to me but I wasn’t so sure.
Not wanting to bug her, I just sat down on the bench and waited for the bus to arrive. She didn’t even look up at me when I got near – she just stared at her phone as she continued to chat with someone online.
Seeing her use her phone made me want one as well. I had one before but it was my mom’s and I had to give it back when I left home. Maybe if I had one I could apply for a loan online and at least chat with some of my friends. At least then I wouldn’t feel so depressed.
Fifteen minutes passed by silently and the bus finally came. I got on, paid and took a seat in the middle. There weren’t a lot of passengers and I got to sit down alone. The goth girl sat all the way in the back and didn’t seem to care about anything else in the world except for the person she was chatting with. She just kept on typing away without a worry in the world.
As the bus began to move I leaned back on my seat and began to ponder about my decision. Maybe it was the wrong idea to come here. Maybe I should have listened to my aunt and just finished studying at the community college. At least in a year or two I’d be done and could work as a nurse instead of waiting tables while hoping someone would grant me a business loan.
I gazed out the bus window and watched as the buildings whirled by. I was starting to get a little hungry but when I checked my wallet I only had a few dollars left. I didn’t want to use my credit card again because that too was almost at its limit. The pain only grew worse when the bus drove by a large pizza place and a burger joint downtown. My mouth was watering and the empty feeling in my gut was getting cold and heavy.
But then I saw a sign. At first it looked pretty small but the words still stood out to me. In yellow and red font it read “Phoenix Banking wants to make your dreams come true! We’ll handle all your loans, investments and banking needs.”
Those words were like a gift from the heavens.
I quickly got up from my seat, pressed the button to halt the vehicle and waved at the front of the bus. The bus driver saw me and gave a nod as he slowly parked to the side of the road. I ran up and out of the bus, giving the driver a smile before the doors shut and he drove away.
“Phoenix Banking, huh?” I commented to myself. I looked across the street and saw a small office sandwiched between a Laundromat and a salon. I raised an eyebrow in suspicion but figured there was nothing else to lose at this point. With a shrug I carefully crossed the street.
Fortunately the place was still open and there wasn’t a single other client in sight. I did see a woman sitting behind the desk and she greeted me with a dry glance.
“Sit down, miss,” she instructed me as she continued to stare at my outfit. I sat down and watched as the lady picked up her landline phone, dialed an extension number and informed the person on the other end, “We got someone here. You want me to let her in?”
There was a pause, she went “uh-huh” and “okay” and then ended the call. The lady then pointed to a hallway to her left, “Go ahead, lady. Just go down this hallway and enter the door to the far left. Mr. Phoenix will be waiting there for you.”
I gave her a smile and walked down the hallway.
4
Marcus
A big heavy stack of papers rested on my desk. It seemed remarkable to me that I just had to have the biggest load of work on a Friday afternoon. The only good thing was that once these were done I’d have a blank schedule for at least three weeks.
Ring!
I picked up the phone. It was Felicia and apparently we had a client out in the waiting area. Not only was it a female but a walk-in client too. I checked my watch – there was still a good thirty minutes before closing time – and told Felicia to go ahead and let the woman in.
With the few minutes I had before the client walked in I brushed my hair, fixed my dress shirt and tossed my cup of soda into the trashcan. For a moment I tapped my fingers on the desk but then hurriedly pushed the stacks of paper away. Some of them I had to just drop behind me, leaning them against the wall. Now my desk was clean and ready.
The door opened. An angel walked in. By God was she freaking beautiful. The woman – no, girl – had shiny, long blonde hair and stood around five-feet and two-inches or so but even then she had these nice, slender long legs. At least they looked that way because of her high heel pump sneakers and the extremely short denim shorts she had on. The girl had gigantic tits and they were even more noticeable with her tight white shirt and no bra. Oh yeah, I could see that. Her nipples pressed so hard against the fabric it was like she was begging for men to ogle at her.
However, it was her eyes that really got me. They were bright blue and as deep as the oceans. There was a peculiar glow in them that made them shine like no other I had ever seen in my life. They went well with her cute pink lips and milky white skin.
“Come in,” I told her when I saw she was just standing at the door. I then gestured at the chair by my desk and said, “I’m Marcus. Take a seat.”
She sat down and bit down on her lip. Looking at her like that was starting to get me horny. I wanted to slam her against the table, rip her clothes off and fuck her raw. The girl then pushed a folder my way.
“H-hi,” she greeted but she kept her gaze down, never looking at me in the eye. “I’m Natasha Benning. I just want to get a business loan and start my business but none of the banks I’ve been to have granted me one. They all say I have a good business proposal but they still decline my application.”
It took me no longer than a minute to see why they’d reject her offers. She was below twenty-five, she didn’t have a college degree and she wasn’t a business professional. Sh
e had no formal business training, no managing experience to speak of and no collateral other than her car.
I then skimmed through her proposal. She did have an impressive idea at hand – she aimed to launch an online system that helped customers pick a tattoo and then she’d be the artist to apply it. That meant she had skill. She did have a certificate proving she studied tattooing as a vocational course and she did undertake the required licensure examinations and health inspections. She had all that going for her.
Still, she was a risk and it was no surprise all those banks denied her. Lenders like us require cash flow to support repayment of the loan.
“What would you do if you really can’t get a loan?” I asked her.
Natasha looked up at me briefly and then hurriedly looked back down, staring at her shoes as she answered, “I might just go back home, finish community college and find a job some where.”
Seeing such a gorgeous bombshell withering away in a community college and waiting tables would be a waste. She was young, gorgeous and had a certain shyness in her that really tugged at me. She’d make a beautiful slave if I could have her.
“Then I better make sure we get the money,” I told her with a deep and commanding voice.
I couldn’t grant her a business loan with my own bank. Although the amount she needed was ignorable, she didn’t have enough credit scores, and I had my own principles and rules when it comes to business and those could never be broken. I did want to help her, though. I quickly thought about other options I had. There was another funding option – get a personal loan with private institutional or individual lenders.
I pulled my little notebook out of my coat pocket and glimpsed at all the businessmen and women I could talk to. Maybe some of them could finance this little venture. “I’ll set up a meeting with possible lenders and then I’ll contact you regarding where we stand. Sign this form, leave your number and address, and I’ll call you.”
