Another work of fiction and fantasy.
All similarities to anyone throughout history are pure coincidence.
As always, we are all adults here.
*****
The Bank and Trust. A small town place where small town people did small town banking business. Things moved a bit slower than the big city. Same people every day. Same business every week. Same old same old. And that was just how Monica liked it. She had moved here last year from another small town just like this one. And found the pace was the same. Slow and easy. Just like the song.
A small town girl, naive to the workings of big city life, Monica had always been shy and demure. Dainty, slim, with short brown hair, the same brown shaded eyes, and very conservative. She easily found a job at the bank, as it was the same job she had in her previous small town life. Small bank, small town, small attitude. A teller, she worked side by side with Ingrid, an older lady who was also quite conservative. So at her small job, and her small apartment, Monica had settled in and was content.
Then things changed. The bank had only four employees. Monica, Ingrid, the bank manager Mr. Tim Jones, and a loan officer that mostly worked from home. So much that Monica didn't even know his name. But that wasn't what changed. Ingrid was leaving. The older lady was at the end of her working years and her husband had retired already. Now it was Ingrid who was retiring. They had plans to travel the country in a nice RV and it was just time to go.
So after a small farewell, with a small cake and some almost tearful goodbyes, Monica became the only bank teller. That lasted a week. Then Jenna came into the picture. Jenna from the big city. Jenna with her blonde hair. Jenna with her short skirts. Jenna in heels.
Monica was always dressed professionally, if a bit modest. Slacks, flats, sweaters. You couldn't guess under her frumpy clothes she actually had a fit body. Not fitness fit but perky and petite. Her boobs just a bit more than a handful but well camouflaged under her less than sexy tops and blouses.
So she raised an eyebrow when Jenna came in for a job interview. While Monica was in her late twenties, Jenna looked fresh out of high school. And she dressed the part of the trendy young city girl. Hardly what Monica would've chosen to wear for a job interview, Jenna came in wearing a pleated white miniskirt, tight pink sleeveless blouse, and shiny pink high heels. Very chic, if a tad bimbo. Nevermind the pink rimmed glasses. They made Jenna look less smart girl and more bimbo.
While Monica did her bank teller work, Jenna went into the office with Tim Jones and behind closed doors, had her interview. Monica didn't want to think about what went on, her conservative mind reeling in horror at the thought. Even though for all she knew, it was completely innocent.
Jenna interviews for the job.
Jen took the seat in front of Mr. Jones' desk. The oak furniture and wood trim in the office very professional and very clean. Her seat, a padded plush chair that was comfortable yet business like. Mr. Jones looking over her application and resume, before appraising the girl before him.
"So Miss, it seems your credentials are in order if a bit short of experience," Mr. Jones told Jenna as he looked over her less than professional clothes. "What brings you to our small town then?" he asked. Somewhat curious but at the same time, wondering if Jenna was wearing a bra.
"Well Sir, I wanted to try small town life for a bit. I wanted to see if it was as serene and relaxing as people say it is," Jenna answered. But the truth was far different.
Jenna had, in the big city, landed herself in a spot of trouble. She had a bit of a gambling problem, which was telling in itself as she was so young yet. A few badly placed wagers and a few shady loans from less than credible people, and suddenly Jenna was in it for ten grand. That is, ten thousand. Of course she had not nearly anything like as much money saved up, so rather than try and settle up somehow, Jenna had left town. Left town rather abruptly. So it was that she was sort of, hiding out, as it were.
But Mr. Tim Jones didn't need to know all of that. When asked, Jenna had her well rehearsed answer even down to the straight face. So as he walked around to her side of his oak desk and leaned back against it, Jenna glanced at his bulge, and knew she as much as had the job. Just one or two things to do first. It was obvious to her what those things would be, as Mr. Jones looked down at Jenna with a smile. Jenna crossed her long legs in heels and smiled up at him.
"So Mr. Jones, do I have the job?" Jenna asked coyly as Tim stood and looked down her top with a grin. Her pink top had been unbuttoned a little when she arrived, and as he watched she idly used her long pink nails to flick at another button. Or two. Deftly opening her top even more. Tim Jones was rewarded now with the fact that Jenna was indeed wearing a bra.
"Well Jen, it depends," Tim said with a grin. "Would you be willing to...put out...the extra effort needed to be the head teller here?" he asked. The emphasis on the word head.
Jenna knew this could go one of two ways. He was being obvious in his sexual harassment, and Jenna knew that would set the tone forevermore. If she allowed it. So with a smile, she unbuttoned her blouse all the way. Opened it to his leering eyes. She smiled up at him and reached up to place her hand on his bulge. Merely nodding yes to his questions.