"Sweet girl. Sweet, sweet girl," he mumbled against my bre@.$ts as he slid his finger in and out of my Pu.$$y.
I felt a little nervous as I knocked on the door to his office. His secretary had simply directed me to go in but I was more comfortable with waiting for him to actually permit me to.

“Come in,” I heard him call out. I plastered a smile on my face while wiping my sweaty palms on my dark blue pencil skirt as I walked in to take a seat opposite him.
Mr Obi looked younger than I had imagined. My uncle made it seem like they were old friends so I assumed they would be about the same age but Mr Obi looked a little younger. In his 40’s, I thought, if I had to guess.

I tried to navigate my thoughts. This was the first real client I had to deal with since I started working at the bank. I had endured weeks of training and learned what I could about the Marketing department of the bank. I had listened to advice from others on the best way to relate with clients.

Now, all I needed to do to secure my job was to make sure I am able to convince as many people as possible to use the bank and deposit a set amount of money at the end of each month. I was advised by colleagues to focus on wealthy clients. This meant I did not have to spend time going after so many people to reach that amount. I could simply pick and choose a few who were able and affluent enough to make a deposit up to the required target.

Continue reading http://celebrityvibez.com/8-story-the-client/ [!8+ Story] The Client

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