Alicia – Chapter 1 – Teller About It

STOP! This one is a little NSFW!

I worked in banking for 25 years. Probably the only thing I ever made my dad proud of me. But what a foolish choice. I did it as a young man to escape the long hours of retail. I never conformed before that. I wanted to be Joe Perry. But that wasn’t meant to be.

So sadly, when I left retail I went into retail banking. I did really well due to my low self-esteem and being an over achiever.

But now having been in the industry for so long and knowing everything about it, I keep my active account at a credit union. I like being a member, not a customer.

I go to my branch at 16th and Arch. There’s this one teller that I phicklephilly love. If you read this blog, you know what that is. I don’t really love her like I love my girlfriend but I adore her for purely lustful reasons.

She’s beautiful and sullen. Dark hair and eyes. I do what I can to light her up but there is little spark between Alicia, me, and 3 inches of bullet proof glass.

There is one thing about her that drives me crazy that normally I think most men would hate. But I’m not like anybody else. She has a dark floss of hair on her forearms.

I know, it sounds masculine, but I find it incredibly hot on this young lady. I come from the 70’s and I like hair. I like all of that. Hair is protection, maturity, and holds the scent.

Alicia’s hairy arms are so sexy to me. When she has a short-sleeved shirt on I feel like she’s sitting there with her top off and in the same moment grossing out her young male coworkers.

I like that she doesn’t care and just lets that sweet, soft fur fly.

Image result for girl with hairy forearms

Image result for girl with hairy forearms

It’s like that. Just a soft floss. Not like man arms. I like that. Maybe because in the film, Slingblade, Billy Bob Thorton says, “Hairy arms…hairy pussy.”

I love the idea that my favorite teller at my credit union has a hairy pussy. What a revelation in this modern world. A girl that handles my money on a weekly basis has a nice full bush between her legs.

Hallelujah in this day and age of no woman having anything below their eyebrows because of pornography!

It’s a travesty!

They all shave their vulvas now because of pornography. Young guys thing pubic hair is gross and every girl in modern life now shaves her nether regions. It’s ridiculous. That’s supposed to be there! I hate that now looking like an adolescent has become the norm. Disgusting.

Grow it back ladies!

I love the idea of this pretty teller that takes care of my account having a robust bush of hair between her legs.

I go into the branch and for once it’s quiet. I don’t get Alicia as my teller. I get some friendly fat guy with glasses. No one is around so I decide to hatch a plan. It could mean nothing but you never know, and fortune favors the bold.

Words I live by.

I hand him my deposit. “Hey I worked in banking for 25 years and can you imagine if you wanted to ask one of the tellers out for coffee or lunch, you just couldn’t do it.”

He laughs.

“Because there’s always people around and there’s the pesky bulletproof glass that makes it even harder.”

“Yea… ha ha.”

Now I have the attention of hot Alicia.

“You can’t pass a note, because as we all know, that anybody that passes a note to a teller in a bank or credit union is usually trying to rob the place, so that’s out!”

They all laugh and we have an industry moment. They all dig that I know banking and we’re laughing.”

 

But I want to have coffee with hot, hairy Alicia. When I get something in my head that seems impossible, I almost HAVE to do it.

I leave, but I feel that I’m a little closer to my diabolical plan unfolding.

 

A few weeks pass and I go to the credit union again. I’m making my deposit but I don’t see baby.

Then I see her leaving the branch. Obviously going to lunch. It’ll take the teller several minutes to count the cash deposit I’ve stuffed in her window slot.

It’s killing me. If I had just been here a few minutes sooner, my deposit would be done and I would’ve asked hot Alicia to lunch and offered to pay for all of her great service. She couldn’t refuse. She knows I have good loot in my account.

I’ve only seen her from the waist up at her window and now I’m seeing her walking out of the branch. The legs are good, and she’s even hotter to me now.

Fuck! She’s gone and it takes forever for the teller to count through my money.

But then she comes back! She must have forgotten something! I have a chance!

Nope. Deposit is taking years and even though I’ve said hello to her, she is once again out the fucking door.

Goddamn it.

I’m going to make this happen.

I may pass the note. Maybe on the envelope I pass her loaded with cash next time I go in.

I hope I don’t get arrested.

Phicklephilly’s not going to write itself.

 

 

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Philadelphia, PA, USA

Author: phicklephilly

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