Chapter 8

And at the Founder's Bank, Mary's absence for two days had not gone unnoticed.

First, Old Mr. Rocklin had been requesting that Mary be sent to his office for a conference. Every day he'd ask his secretary to arrange it and every day when she came back to report that "Miss Mary Jenkins was not feeling well and had called in sick" he grew more agitated. Thoughts of her luscious, ripe body filled his head all day long as he sat at his broad oak desk. He felt like he was a school boy again, sitting in class all day long nursing a hard-on. Only this time he didn't have a hard-on. The last one he'd had was the last time that Mary had been in his office. The time he'd lustily pursued her around the desk. He didn't know what it was about her that did it to him. Maybe it was the combination of her incredible good looks along with her aura of innocence. Whatever it was, he wished he could figure it out.

He'd tried it with other girls since then. New tellers and others at the bank who were hoping for advancement. Some of them put up no resistance at all. Some of them willingly stripped off their dresses in his locked office, happily went down on their knees and tried to suck some life into his flaccid penis. But it didn't work-it never did. The only hard-on he'd had in over ten years had been when Mary Jenkins was in his office. When Mary Jenkins had told him no and with a look of terrified innocence fled around his desk.

Just the thought of her made his knees tremble. If he thought it would have done any good at all he would have jerked off then and there. The frustration was driving him wild. All he could think of was Mary and all day long he stared at the photo he'd pulled from her employee's file.

He pressed his intercom to speak to his secretary, Mrs. Crow, "Linda, I would like a full report on one of our employees, a certain Miss Mary Jenkins. She's been out sick now for about three days, I think, and I want to know just what in the hell, if anything, is the matter with her and just when we can expect her back at the bank. Let me know as soon as you get any word. And also, cancel that appointment with the new girl teller, uh, Miss Phyliss Roth. That's all, thank you."

Linda raised her eyebrows in surprise. Mr. Rocklin had never shown such interest in any one girl before and he'd certainly never cancelled a "conference" with a new employee as beautiful as Miss Roth.

Maybe he was feeling ill. She considered phoning his doctor.

At that very moment, in another part of the bank, Clifford Freemans was suffering from very mixed emotions. Mary had not come into work ever since their date together. He couldn't figure it out. He remembered how terribly upset she'd been when she threw him out the door. But he hadn't really done anything to her. He hadn't even fucked her. Just slipped her a little ginseng to warm her up, and she wasn't even aware of that. So why had she stayed home from work?? Was she far more sensitive than Clifford had imagined. Had he caused her some grave mental distress? Was she eventually going to lose her job because of what Clifford had done? One part of him was feeling very guilty about the whole affair. Another part of him was feeling something entirely different.

That part of him remembered very vividly what her naked body had looked like. Remembered the sensual perfection of its form. Remembered seeing her hungry mouth sucking on his cock, seeing his prick shoved all the way in. He remembered the glazed look of lust on her face as the cum overflowed her mouth and drooled down her chin. That image he couldn't shake and the more he thought about it the more he realized that he'd soon be making one of his increasingly frequent trips to the bathroom to relieve his frustration.

He wished she would come back to the bank and wished she would come back soon. He was going to ask her out again. He didn't think she would go, but he had to try. If only he had one more chance. This time he'd give her twice as much ginseng-no he'd give her three times as much. But he had to get into that pussy. One way or another.

And in still another part of the bank, someone else was thinking about Mary, wondering why she was gone and wishing she would come back soon. Ever since she had started attending ERA meetings, Doris Lamp had been seeing Susan more often. Growing to love all aspects of lesbian sex. Growing sexually as her sensuality first emerged and then grew and grew.

But Susan, physically, wasn't her type. She was too masculine, reminded her too much of the men she was trying to put out of her life. Reminded her too much of her wimpy husband who was now sulking because he no longer received his piece of wifely pussy every Saturday night. Doris had told him to use his hand-that the hand would probably enjoy it more than she did.

So, Doris had begun to expand her horizons a bit. She acknowledged the fact that she wanted sex with women. The only question was with who. And that's when Doris thought of Mary Jenkins.

She remembered that Mary didn't really seem to want anything to do with the guys working at the bank. Unlike the other tellers who gossiped incessantly about this guy or that guy, Mary had never really seemed to be interested in those kinds of conversations. She had also heard that rumor about Mary refusing to accommodate Mr. Rocklin.

Putting two and two together, Doris concluded that Mary was a very likely candidate for seduction and that all she had to do was play her cards just right and Mary would be eating out of her hands. And other places too. And besides, as much as Susan wasn't Doris' preferred physical type, Mary was. Totally feminine, totally beautiful.

Doris hoped that Mary's illness wasn't serious and that she'd be coming back to work real soon.

Mary had been feeling better all the time. The memories of what had happened were rapidly receding in her mind and she realized that, as disgusting as they had been, she hadn't really been damaged. Her pride hurt, yes. But nothing else, really.

But she was developing a real distaste for men. The thought of Clifford Freeman disgusted her. The thought of old Mr. Rocklin disgusted her even more. She never even thought of Doris-sex between women was something that Mary adamantly refused to believe occurred. It was just something that people made up to write about in dirty books.

She still continued to date Davy. Because, after all, he was a nice guy, he was no problem to handle sexually, and even Mary got lonely and liked a little friendly companionship once in awhile.

But she knew that Davy was going to be the only guy she dated for awhile. She just didn't want to take any more chances like she had with Clifford. He'd seemed like a really nice guy. Maybe he was. She didn't know. She wasn't sure just how she ended up naked with a mouthful of disgusting cum, either.

She wasn't going to go walking by herself in the park, or walking alone at night or answering the door without checking to see who it is or any number of things she used to do before her two bad experiences.

Yet, there were some other thoughts that Mary had about the whole thing. Sometimes she wondered if she was out of step with the times. Could she be the only 24 year old virgin left in the city of San Francisco? Maybe if she hadn't been such a prude, maybe if she'd lived life a little fuller, her bad experiences would not have happened. But these thoughts she put out of mind. They were just mere speculation, an aspect of the question to be considered and then rejected.

Mary felt it was high time to go back to work and to put the past behind her. Tomorrow, a new life would begin for her. She smiled as she looked at the framed poster hanging in her bedroom. It was of a couple silhouetted on the beach against a blazing sunset. They were facing each other, holding hands and obviously looking deeply into each others eyes. In bold white letters beneath it read, "Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life."