E-Shift Bank – Part 1

Disclaimer: Don’t read this if you’re under 18 or if it’s illegal where you live (I’m looking at you, Utah). This story is completely fictional and I’m sure no one mentioned herein acts like this in real life.

Other Disclaimer: This is my first story, so cut me a little slack, ok? Please email any feedback to darktower19ka@hotmail.com.

Codes: MF, oral, spank, suffocation

Celebs: Alessandra Torresani

E-Shift Bank, Part 1 – No Spaceships in Caprica

by The Banker

Patrick awoke to the sound of a Blackberry vibrating on the table next to his
bed. Groggily, he rolled over and picked it up. He smiled as he read a text message from work telling him they’d found him another job for tonight. “No rest for the wicked,” he muttered aloud to no one in particular as he got out of bed and into the shower. He stepped on a lacy pink thong on the bathroom floor and reminded himself to bring it to the Claims Department at work when he went in to pick up his packet for tonight’s client. He was sure Ms. Bullock would be happy to have it back. Wondering what the world would think if everyone knew that Sandra had been cheating on Jesse James long before he hooked up with that tattoo chick, Patrick stepped into the shower. When he got out, he put on his bathrobe and walked down the spiral staircase to the front door of his palatial mansion. He opened the door into the bright California morning, hopped in his golf cart, and drove down to the end of the driveway to pick up the newspaper, being sure to look into his neighbor’s window to try to snag a glimpse of their teenaged daughter getting changed. He went back inside and ate some breakfast and read the paper. His phone rang, and the caller ID read “E-Shift Bank”.

“Hello?” he said, polishing off the last of his bowl of Cookie Crisp.

“Pat! How’d every thing go with the client last night?” asked the voice on the other end of the line.

“I’d say it went pretty well. Say, did you know Sandra Bullock is a squirter?”

“No shit?”

“Yeah, right? I think she ruined those new sheets I brought. I can put that on the Bank’s tab, right Benny?”

“Of course, of course. Listen, you got the text about tonight’s job, right?”

Patrick got up and walked upstairs to his bedroom to get dressed, talking as he looked for something to wear. “Yeah, I got it. Who’s the client?” he asked as he pulled on his pants and shirt.

“You ever watch that show Caprica?”

“Just the first one, as soon as I realized there were no spaceships I bailed.”

“You’re such a fucking homo, you know that? Anyway, your client for tonight is some girl named Alessandra Torresani, you know her?” said Benny.

Patrick’s dick hardened just hearing her name. “Fuuuuuuuck yes I know her. Is today my birthday or something? You know what? I don’t even care. She want the full package?”

“Yeah, looks that way. Her only limit is that she not actually pass out, and nothing you do can draw any blood, not that your area of expertise is particularly bloody,” said Benny.

“I love that I have an area of expertise. You think I can get a Master’s in Autoerotic Asphyxiation?”

“I dunno, you think I can get a Master’s in Douchebag Wrangling?”, he responded wryly.

“Funny man,” said Patrick. “I’ll be by at five to grab my packet.”

“Ok, see you then.” He paused. “Douchebag.”

A few hours later, Patrick hopped into his extraordinarily ostentatious Ferrari Challenge Stradale and drove down his driveway and onto the street, waving to the neighbors as he pulled onto the main road and headed towards E-Shift Bank. As far as the neighbors knew, Patrick was just an obscenely wealthy young banker who’d cashed in on the dot.com bubble and cashed out before the whole thing burst like a pedophile at a gymnastics competition. He now told friends and family that he was a part-time financial consultant for the not-at-all shadily-named E-Shift Bank in downtown L.A. As it happened, he did consult with the company, and it made enough money to actually BE a bank, but the only financial transactions going on were between the “Bankers” and some of Hollywood’s most deeply closeted sex fiends. Patrick mulled his excellent career choice as he pulled into the E-Shift lot and scanned his ID badge at the gate. A non-descript building, the E-Shift Bank Headquarters looked, from the inside, to be a regular office. Cubicles lined the walls and the middle of each area, and idle workplace banter was shot back and forth. Patrick walked in and said hello to the other Bankers and sat at his cubicle for a few minutes, reading emails. There was one from Sandra Bullock thanking him for a wonderful evening and asking for her thong back, and another from Stana Katic asking for some tips on how to properly choke co-star Molly Quinn. Being the gentleman he was, Patrick could do nothing less than to offer them both a free tutorial at his home. As he finished his emails, he looked up to see Iara, the Brazilian Farting Specialist who Benny had hired for George Clooney, peeking over his cubicle.

“Hey Strangler,” she said in her lucious accent.

“What’s up, Prarie Dog,” he replied smiling. “How’s Clooney?”

She playfully smacked him with a bunch of rolled-up papers. “I told you not to call me that, you fuck! Besides, avoiding prarie-dogging is a key part of my job!”

“What, you don’t think Danny Fucking Ocean would want a big deuce dropped on his nose?”

“I’m not really sure, but I may just do it for fun one day. Smug asshole.” She walked around her cubicle and leaned against his desk. “So, who’s your client tonight?”

“Her name is Alessandra Torresani, she’s on that new show ‘Caprica’. Benny hasn’t dropped off her packet yet.”

“Oh, that fucking show sucks,” she said. “I turned it off as soon as I realized there were no spaceships.”

“I KNOW, RIGHT?!?!” replied Patrick with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm.

“Jeeesus, what the fuck is going on over here?” said Benny as he walked up, folder in hand.

“Caprica,” Patrick and Iara said in unison.

“For the love of Christ, how do I get stuck with the nerdiest sex workers in all of the Lord’s Creation?”

“Yeah, yeah.,” said Patrick, holding out his hand. “Let me get a look at that packet.”

“Here you go, guy. Try not to fuck her up too badly, she’s new to the Bank and I’d like some repeat business. Oh, and Iara,” he said, turning to look at the slender Brazilian. “Do you think you could handle Clooney AND Pitt tonight?”

She thought it over for a second, head cocked sideways as if she were making complicated calculations. “Yeah, I can do it. I’m gonna have to go back to Taco Bell, though.” With that, she turned on a dime and sauntered past the other cubicles and into the stairwell, leaving Patrick and Benny disgusted and laughing, respectively. After a moment, Benny turned to him.

“I swear to god, you people make me consider doing nothing but missionary through a sheet with a hole in it for the rest of my life. Anyway, your appointment is at Ms. Torresani’s residence at 9 tonight. The job is $50k, and you’ll get your usual 10%. Since she’ll be under a pillow for a good chunk of the time, there’s no safe word. Instead, if she pinches your ass, you know she’s about to go out. The details are in the file, but the long and short of it is that you’ll be sticking to pillow-smothering tonight. She wants it rough and forceful, but don’t mark her up. And take your time with her.”

“Good,” said Patrick, leafing through the file. “At least this way I don’t have to drag the whole rig across town.”

“Lucky you. I really can’t wait for the day you’re pulled over with that thing in the trunk. The cops are gonna have a field day,” said Benny as he walked back to his office. Patrick sat back in his seat and leafed through Ms. Torresani’s background information. 22 years old and from California, she had been acting since she was ten. She had stunning blue eyes and a body to shank a priest for. Her “other” background information, the information she didn’t want anyone else to know about, was the next document down. It turns out that when Alessandra was 14, she and some girlfriends were goofing around at a slumber party. When she fell asleep, one of the other girls put a pillow over her face and sat on it while the other girls laughed. What everyone else had assumed were cries for help were actually Ms. Torresani having the first orgasm of her young life.

“Well,” Patrick thought to himself. “At least I can get some revenge for the complete lack of spaceships…”

A few hours later, Patrick pulled up to a modestly-sized home on the outskirts of L.A. where Alessandra was living during “Caprica’s” hiatus. He walked to the door and rang the bell, admiring the silver Audi R8 in the driveway while he waited. The door opened and there stood the lovely Miss Alessandra Torresani in a shimmery strapless blue dress that supported her ample cleavage and came about halfway down her thighs. She looked him up and down with a smug smile on her face.

“You’ll do nicely,” she said and walked back inside, leaving the door open. Patrick followed her in, staring at her round ass. He closed the door behind him and turned around just in time to see her turn the corner into what looked to be a bedroom. He looked around the house as he made his way to the bedroom. He walked in and was pleasantly surprised to see Alessandra on the floor on her knees with her mouth open. Patrick felt his cock harden instantly at the sight, and he closed the bedroom door behind him. He stood for a second and decided on a strategy.

“What the fuck are you doing over there?” he scolded her. Alessandra tucked her chin to her chest and looked up at him with those sweet blue eyes.

“I want you to fuck my mouth, please,” she said innocently.

“Well what the fuck do you expect me to do, walk over there?” he said. “Crawl over to me, now!!”, he yelled, pointing at the ground in front of him. She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled over, smiling at him the whole way, her firm young ass wiggling behind her. She straightened up in front of him, her face only inches away from his dick. She worked the button and zipper of Patrick’s jeans, and pulled them down along with his boxers. Patrick’s rock-hard dick popped up and slapped her in the chin, and she grabbed it with her hand. Looking up at him, she rubbed his cockhead all over her face, leaving a trail of precum on her cheeks. Patrick moaned as Alessandra gently worked her small hands up and down his shaft, occasionally using a hand to rub his balls.

“Now will you please fuck my mouth, sir?” she asked, pumping his dick. She lifted it to her mouth and put the head in, sucking on it. She opened her mouth and let his cockhead sit on her tongue, and then she put her hands behind her back. Patrick took this as his cue, and he started gently sliding his cock in and out of her mouth, only putting about half of his eight inches in before pulling out.

“That’s a good slut. Take my cock like a good little whore,” he said, increasing his pace. He put his hands on the sides of her head and began pushing his cock down her throat, never breaking eye contact as he pushed deeper into her mouth. Pushing deeper in, he finally felt Alessanrda start to gag on his thick dick, her eyes tearing up. He pulled out and she gasped for air. Alessandra grabbed his dick and slapped her face with it, spitting on it while she jacked it off.

“Yesssss, that’s it baby, fuck my pretty face!” she said before shoving her face back on his cock. Patrick held the back of her head with one hand and jammed the entire length of his dick into her mouth and down her throat, using his free hand to reach down the front of her dress and pinch her hard nipples. He repeatedly bottomed out in her warm throat, feeling her gag and choke on his dick as he played with her firm tits. He pulled out and pulled her to her feet by her hair, leaning down to roughly kiss her. Their tongues fought back and forth, and Patrick slid his hands up the back of Alessandra’s short dress to squeeze her panty-less ass.

“Mmm, is that all you’ve got for me, big man?”, she asked, leading him to the bed by his cock, stroking it as she walked backwards.

“We’re not even warmed up yet, you fucking tramp. Take off that dress and let me see what I have to work with,” Patrick commanded.

“Yes sir,” the short vixen said, working her hands behind her to unzip the dress. It fell unceremoniously to the ground, and Patrick’s dick jumped as what lie before him. Alessandra stood naked, squeezing her perfect B-cup tits and tweaking the small nipples. Her pussy was clean-shaven and her wetness shone in the room’s pale light. She grinned cockily at Patrick, fully aware of the reaction she was causing in him. “Well?”

Patrick moved toward her, picked her up, and literally threw her on the bed. Alessandra landed on her back, legs spread and her wet cunt on display. He got on top of her immediately and placed his cockhead at the entrance to her sweet pussy and started pushing in, her tight hole like a wet vice.

“Oh my god, you’re fucking huge!! Fuck me! Fucking fuck me like the whore I am!”, she said, pulling Patrick’s ass towards her trying to get more of his dick in her. Patrick sank all eight inches of his dick into her and started fucking her, his cock stretching her tight young fuckhole every time he slammed into her.


“You know what?”, Patrick asked as her pounded away at her. “I’ve decided you talk too much.” Alessandra smirked up at him and held eye contact until he grabbed one of her pillows and held it down over her face, continuing to slam away at her pussy. She began shaking and straining against the pillow, squealing under the soft cushion as Patrick’s huge cock rammed her cunt over and over. Her legs, which had been wrapped tightly around his back, instead went straight past Patrick’s sides. He leaned down and bit one of her nipples and heard her scream under the pillow. He pulled it off her face and she gasped for air, her face red with distress and delight. He got right in her face, driving into her wetness as he talked.

“Does my little slut like that? Does she like getting fucked when she can’t breathe?”, he asked mockingly.

“FUCK…YES!!!” she responded, still gasping.

“Good,” Patrick said. “Now get on your hands and knees like the fucking bitch you are.”

“Mmm, yes sir,” Alessandra replied, rolling over and looking back at him with her sweet fuck-me eyes. He could smell her arousal as he approached behind her and started pushing into her cunt again, this time managing to go even deeper into her. “Oh my GOD, you motherfucker!! FUCK ME!!” Patrick drove harder and harder into her tight hole, slapping her amazing ass and leaving red handprints. He flattened her out on her stomach and put the pillow under her face, using his hands to pull the sides back and using his thumbs to press her face into it. Alessandra began struggling and squealing again, thrashing her ass against Patrick, who held firm and continued to violate her hot cunt with his cock. He felt the cum welling up in his balls and realized he wasn’t far from shooting his load.

“MMMMM OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!!” he could hear from the pillow. Alessandra’s toned young body suddenly became rigid and he felt her cunt spasm around his cock. At the same time, she reached back and pinched Patrick’s ass, letting him know to remove the pillow. “Oh my fucking God that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had!”, she said. “Are you going to cum for me, you motherfucker? Fucking cum for me!”

“Where do you want if, you fucking skank? Where do you want my cum?” he yelled at her. In response, she moved off his cock and turned around, swallowing his dick again and pumping it at the same time. She slurped and gagged on Patrick’s cock until he started moaning louder and louder, and she pulled off just in time to jack a huge load of cum onto her beautiful face, moving his cock around to make sure she was covered everywhere.

“Oh my god, you’re such a good fucking cocksucker Alessandra,” he said, laying down on the bed, his balls spent. She stayed kneeling in front of him, using her fingers to push all the cum into her mouth.

“That’s because of how much I love cum, baby. And yours is particularly tasty, might I add,” she said smiling, most traces of the demanding slut from a minute ago gone. Once she was clean of the cum, she laid down next to Patrick on the bed. He turned to her and smiled.

“So,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “Why the fuck are there no spaceships on “Caprica”?


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