From Banker To Bimbo Part One

It’s dark by the time she needs me again; it always is. She doesn’t even have to say anything and I know that once again she needs me to be her slut, her bimbo, her whore and her plaything. It wasn’t always like this though, I have to admit. Three years ago I had some more control over my choices and my life. But then she came and that went.

At the time, I was 26 years old – young for an investment banker but I wasn’t going to let that stop me as I climbed the economic ladder. Earning around 50K a year, I provided with ease for my wife and twins. It’s difficult now to picture them and I think that’s what hurts the most. I can’t even remember what they looked like. Any of them. It was late November, so the nights came early and seemed to linger ever so slightly too long; to the point where they were impeaching the light of day. We lived in a small house in the hills so every day I would get up at about 9 and drive to work in my Golf GTI. The car was nothing special and by now it was maybe 6 or 7 years old so it didn’t come as too much of a shock when the car just gave up the ghost and died. Until another car could be arranged, I was stuck either taking the bus or walking to work for the next week. Experiences as a child had left behind a deep rooted fear of buses so I walked in the cold. It wasn’t too far anyway but to get to work I had to walk through the local drug gangs area. There were legends about this place: it was the only part of town where people went in, rarely came out. I thought that because I came and left at stupid times, I would be safe. How wrong I was.

I was walking past a bar when a young woman appeared at the door. Just ignore it, I thought, keep walking. As I continued walking, she leaned very seductively against the arch way, just outside the door, puffing out her chest and showing the full extent of her 36DD boobs. She wore a black crop top and a skimpy denim skirt that just about covered what needed to be covered. Her flawless skin was complimented by the lush golden tresses of hair that cascaded down onto her shoulders and the blood red lipstick she wore. When she licked her lips I could tell that she knew she had me, hook line and sinker but there was nothing I could do, I was drunk on her beauty and perfection.

So drunk, in fact, that I hadn’t realized I had stopped and began to stare. She rubbed he huge tits and beckoned me forth, to which I was powerless to refuse. We were alone and it was the early hours of the morning so I wondered what she wanted me for. Whatever it was, I would provide it. I got so close to her that I could feel her breath on me chest and dared not move any closer. It was then that she pulled me in and we locked lips, our tongues dancing in the fire of our mouths in the cold night air. My heart raced as we embraced and was drawn deeper under her spell. So deep in fact, that I blacked out.