"Sorry dear," said Mrs Christian, "you know my hearing is not the best these days, can you say that again?"
"Sure thing," replied Rebecca as she leaned even further across the counter to bring her mouth nearer to the dear old lady she was trying to help. "What I said was; charges only get applied to your account if you overdraw on your funds. You will receive an account charge of 6.50 and then you will also be charged debit interest on whatever the negative balance is. Do you understand?"
"Oh yes, yes, dear, I'm deaf, not senile. Well I think I'm not senile. Do you think you know if you're senile?" The old lady rambled on. Rebecca smiled; she had been working at this branch of the bank for three years now and just loved dealing with the sweet old ladies that came to the enquiries counter. "Well," she said, "I'm sure that you are not going senile at all Mrs Christian, for one, you're just not old enough." The old lady smiled at her.
Sitting behind her, was her co-worker Connor. He also manned the enquiries counter and between them both, they could usually cover off most of the problems that customers came up with. There was one problem however that Connor could not deal with, and he was looking at it right now. Before him Rebecca Vaaing stood leaning over the counter talking to a customer. Her beautifully rounded bum was encased in a slightly shorter than regulation skirt which much to his pleasure and chagrin had ridden high on her thighs leaving very little to his imagination; but more than enough to keep him titilated. Her long legs just seemed to go on forever punctuated at one end by black stilettos and at the other he could only fantasise about. But he was sure a pert firm pear of a bum was under that skirt and panties. "I wonder if she's wearing any," he thought. One question however that always had him guessing, was did she wear tights or stockings; a question which had now been answered. With the skirt having ridden so high, her stocking tops were on full display; indeed just visible above was the alabaster of her thighs. The black lace filigree of the stocking tops he found to bea complete distraction. The hold-ups squeezing on her toned thighs, a giveaway sign that had had him guessing since she had started at the bank. He knew her ample 34c breasts would be pressed hard against the counter, the thought made him visualise himself pushing up behind her, as his weapon entered Rebecca's delicious folds as her long black hair fell down over her back like black gold, making him want to grasp it and pull her harder onto him.
Rebecca looked over her shoulder at him, rolling her eyes and smiling, they had developed many private signals over the years for customers, but he had never been able to give her the most important signal of all; that he wanted her. That he wanted her this minute. That his body responded; as it was right now, to her curves, her smell, her sexy voice, the gloss of her hair and those rose-bud lips. Her crystal blue-green eyes, seemed to say so much more than her words; but what if he was just reading too much into that? He did not want to ruin his friendship with her. That would be devastating.