Chapter 5

"I'm glad Ben assigned you to this story, too, Velvet," Tony said earnestly. "It looks like it's going to be a big one. We had a tip that the bank president was embezzling tons of money but none of the other reporters have been able to crack it."

"You think we can do it if we work together?" she asked, looking at the young man. He was hunched over the steering wheel like some race car driver.

"Sure. We've got a lot on the ball. As a team, we're unbeatable."

"It doesn't seem that we'll be able to do all that much if the other reporters have struck out. Hell, Williamson wouldn't even authorize a camera crew. Imagine, a pair of tv reporters without a camera crew."

"Don't sweat it. I've got an inside track. This is going to make us both famous. Pulitzer prizes, the works. We'll be able to go to the networks and name our own salaries after this breaks."

Velvet sighed and leaned back in the seat. She wished she could believe Tony but he was just too optimistic about this. Not getting a camera crew for their interview with the bank president was a real blow for her. This reduced them to little more than newspaper reporters out digging up a story. Still, she thought to herself, it was better than being stuck behind the desk while Larry made obscene comments about her.

Tony pulled up in front of the bank and took a deep breath. "Okay, kiddo, here it goes. Let's give it our all."

"What's the battle plan?" she asked, unsure of herself for the first time. She knew that Williamson was waiting for them to fall flat on their faces. They wouldn't get much of a story and this would allow him to can her once and for all.

Or worse.

Tony would get his ass fired. She would get her ass fucked. Williamson would move her into his office as his personal secretary and full-time plaything. Either she'd have to quit then or continually feel the detestable prod of the man's cock into her tight cunt.

"Simple. The head cashier is supposed to have all the dirt, at least he is according to my snitch. I'll keep the bank president busy with a lot of trivial questions. He'll eat that up since I'll try to make him look good. After all the shit that's been thrown his way, he'll suck up to me good and proper. You get the cashier aside - and get the story."

"Sounds okay, provided the cashier does know all the skeletons and where they're hidden."

Tony laughed and patted her leg. "Velvet, with your looks you can make any man's skeleton do a jig."

"Let's go see if we can't scare up that story," she said, her hand resting for a moment on top of Tony's. It felt good there, but they had work to do.

Inside the bank, the guard ushered them directly into the president's office. Velvet took an instant dislike to the man. He reminded her too much of Walt Williamson. The same squinty eyes and the suspicious look, greasy hair and an air of superiority made her want to turn and leave. But they did have a story to cover.

"Mr. Fontaine," Tony said to the man, "we're here to talk with you about the so-called embezzlement that's been going on here."

"There's no embezzlement," the man said sharply. "Those are rumors started to discredit not only me but this fine bank."

"Really?" Tony asked, his eyes wide and innocent. "Gosh, I got it all wrong. Could you tell me a little about this mess?"

Seeing that Tony was allowing himself to be gulled into believing just about anything, the man launched into a long, involved story of how funds were shifted periodically and how book-keeping mistakes did happen. About halfway through the speech, Velvet rose.

"Excuse me for a few minutes, gentlemen. I've got to visit the ladies' room."

She waggled her ass with just the right motion as she left to keep the bank president's mind occupied. The instant Velvet was through the door, she homed in on the cashier. The man hunched over his desk looking nervous and distraught.

"Mr. Holmes?" she asked quietly. "I'm here to speak with you about the embezzlement. Tony Sims said you have some information about it."

She might as well have walked up and boldly called out to the man, "Wanna fuck?" from the way he jumped. He looked around nervously and licked his dried lips.

"Here? Now?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"Tony's keeping your boss busy while I talk with you. We won't be disturbed. You can trust me."

"You won't let my name get into the story? It would ruin me. That son of a bitch is as guilty as they come, but if I rat on him I won't be able to find a job anywhere in this city again. All those bastards stick together because they're all thieves, all of them!"

"Please, Mr. Holmes, calm down and just give me the facts." Velvet reached out and put her hand on the man's shoulder. She hadn't intended it as anything more than a calming gesture. It had the exact opposite effect.

Standing next to his desk, she saw the sudden lump forming at his crotch. She took the opportunity to move closer, her upper thigh brushing his arm. Velvet had to restrain herself to keep from laughing out loud at the way the man shifted in his chair. She guessed he was almost at the point of creaming in his pants.

"Into the vault. We can talk there. No one will disturb us." He motioned toward the gleaming steel vault door slightly ajar across the room.

Velvet silently nodded and walked toward the door, mindful to keep her lovely behind rolling in just the right way. She knew she had others watching her, but they didn't count. Only Mr. Holmes counted. If she could keep him off guard and hot for her body, he would spill his guts about what he knew of the bank embezzlement.

The guard started to stop her as she went into the vault, but the cashier hurriedly said, "That's only a reporter, Dick. It's okay. We're just going to be inside for a few minutes. Nothing to worry about."

"Right, Mr. Holmes," the guard said. But the tone of his voice added, "You lucky stiff."

Velvet had to turn and flash a brilliant smile at the man to thank him for not interfering. She could read a little disbelief on his face, wondering how a guy like Holmes could end up alone in the vault with someone as beautiful as Velvet.

"I'm going to close the door. Don't worry," Holmes said quickly. "Nothing's going to happen."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes sparkling. Velvet was getting into the spirit of this reporting game. She knew she had to keep the man uncomfortable, on edge, so that he would tell her things he didn't really intend to. If she didn't she might end up with a story any reporter could have gotten by simply calling the bank's public information operator.

She moved closer, pressing her warm, lush body into the cashier's. He backed up a half-step and found himself sandwiched between a desirable woman and a steel wall.

Velvet reached out and lightly stroked the man's cheek, pleased with herself. He was definitely off guard now and would probably tell her all she wanted to know without going further. The only trouble was that Velvet had really turned herself on. She was feeling downright horny. And the idea of actually fucking inside the vault with the guard outside almost made her want to rip off her clothes then and there.

"The b-b-bags of money. Th-there," stammered Holmes. "Let's sit on them while we talk."

Velvet sat close beside the man, uncomfortably close for him. She wiggled around and felt the coarse money bags shifting under her weight. On impulse she lay back full length and felt her entire body supported by hundreds of thousands of dollars.

"Wow," she exclaimed, "this is something. Just knowing that those bags are filled with tons of money makes me feel... sexy."

"Yeah, me, too," confessed Holmes. "I come in here all the time and just look at the money. That's how I found out about it."

"It?" she asked, her hand reaching out for the man again. She stroked over his cheek, then down his arm, smiling appreciatively all the while. Velvet couldn't seem to keep her fingers away from the large mound tenting up at the man's crotch, either. She began stroking and massaging the bump, feeling the cock pulsating powerfully under the fabric.

"He - Fontaine - puts in a few ringers. He takes entire bags of money. It... it never shows up because he doctors the computer records on what gets moved from bank to bank. God, you're driving me wild!"

"Who else knows about this switching he does?" she asked, more intrigued by the way his pants throbbed than with the story now. Her own legs scissored together, rubbing her labia against one another in a vain attempt to relieve some of the sexual tensions mounting in her own young, lusty body.

"The presidents of all the other banks suspect. No one else really knows except me."

"That makes you special, doesn't it?" she asked in a husky, seductive voice. "What else makes you special - among men?"

Her fingers worked free his zipper. The slight tug produced fantastic results. His prick leaped out like the opening of a switchblade knife. She gasped at the size of his prick. He wasn't a physically powerful man and this was a cock that should have belonged on a professional football player.

"Goddamn," she exclaimed, "you're huge! I've never seen a dick that big." Her eyes widened and she stared in frank admiration at his prick.

"Go on," he urged. "Suck on it. I love that and my wife refuses to go down on me. If you really like my pecker, do it!"

Velvet didn't bother answering because she had better uses for her mouth. She pounced like a jungle cat on his cock. She groaned in abject pleasure when she felt her sucking having an immediate effect. The man's cock had been big before she applied erotic suction to the plum-tipped end, but she was surprised pleasantly when she felt the cock stiffening even more.

It grew to such a size she could hardly keep it in her mouth. The corners of her mouth strained under the huge girth of the man's prong. She bobbed her head up and down a little bit to get into the spirit of the mouth love, then used her tongue the best she could.

Velvet found the tiny piss-slit and tried to poke her darting, agile tongue down it. Both of them knew this was impossible but it got them so excited, Velvet knew this fucking wouldn't stop until they were both totally satiated.

"So nice, God, it's great!" the man gasped out. "My wife won't give me head. Says a blowjob is dirty or something. Oh shit, shit, shit! This is great!"

"Tell me about the embezzling," Velvet demanded. The unspoken threat was that she would stop sucking on his dick if he didn't give her all the information she wanted. Velvet didn't have to leave the man hard and hot because he started spewing forth all the incriminating information he knew.