Financial Exposure Ch. 01

Beverly and Darnell sat facing each other, vice presidents from rival cross-town banks, waiting to be called into the joint meeting of their boards of directors. A study in black and white, their similarities ended with the fabric of their dark blue pinstripe suits. Beverly's skirt ended several inches above her knees, showing off most of her thin, pale legs. Her most striking feature, perfectly golden shoulder-length hair, swooped and swirled around her pretty face, serious with soft features around her cheeks.

She studied her opposite, dreadlocks just long enough to cover his ears, dark Caribbean skin, and a round, cherubic face laced with an incongruous whisker stubble. Beverly couldn't believe she'd gotten herself into this absurd situation. Her shocking strip tease in front of her board of directors had won the Freedom First board vote to consider merging with People's First bank, and had earned her the vice president title. But at a cost. Now she knew her board expected an encore. And who knew what the People's First board expected? Beverly doubted Darnell had to take his clothes off to persuade his board to agree to this joint meeting.

Darnell fixated on Beverly's legs crossed at the knees, ultra smooth even without the benefit of the pantyhose. He let his professionalism slip as he pondered the implications of the bare, white legs that disappeared into the darkness above her hemline. Soon there would be light at the end of that tunnel and Darnell couldn't believe his good fortune. Beverly's strip show was of course the gossip of the city's banking community, but Darnell had dismissed it as mere rumor. He'd spent some time around her at local banking conferences, and she seemed far too stiff and formal for even the slightest breach of decorum.

Beverly had dreaded the first contact with her counterpart at the inner city bank. She'd spent her career single-mindedly devoted to competence and performance. And now, because she selflessly wanted to save her bank from its own ineptness and corruption, she was to negotiate a sequel to displaying her birthday suit. But Darnell had been personable over the phone, and when they met for coffee, she even thought he was cute. Not that Darnell's charm made this humiliation all right, but it might at least make it tolerable.

She felt less prepared than normal for this presentation. Although she'd rehearsed every word and move dozens of times, as she usually did, she'd practiced alone. Despite the high-stakes and bizarre nature of this speech, Beverly still was very much a prude. The most intimate parts of the speech rehearsals with Darnell had been over the phone.

The doors to the auditorium opened and a The People's First board chair, a squat, black, fireplug of a man who moved with surprising grace in his expensive charcoal suit, invited the vice presidents in to the auditorium.

The room looked like a college lecture hall, with about 100 tiered seats, half of them filled with Board Members and senior assistants from the two banks. A long cabinet with a black countertop dominated the front of the room, and Beverly and Darnell positioned themselves in front of the cabinet, facing the audience that loomed above.

They stood 5-feet apart, looking like a team from central casting for executives: Darnell in white shirt, and bright red tie, the neckline of Beverly's crisp white blouse cut just high enough to avoid showing any cleavage.

"I'm Darnell King, vice president for community lending at People's First bank," he began. "It's an honor to be addressing you at this historic meeting of these two bank boards."

"I'm Beverly Price, vice president and controller for Freedom First bank," she said as her carefully measured voiced shifted the attention of the board members. "Mr. King is right. This is historic. But we need to take the next step and," she paused, "if you will, consummate, a relationship between our two banks that have never worked together in the past."

Darnell took a step forward, shifting the room's attention from the petite blonde.

"You have a chance to do more than keep our two banks in business," he said. "We can be an example that will help bring together parts of this community that are literally as different as black and white."

As he spoke Darnell took two steps to his left and Beverly moved the rest of the way to his side.

"In order to make this happen we'll have to break new ground," he said, as he moved his arms slightly backward, allowing Beverly to slip his suit coat from his shoulders and she set it on the counter behind them."

So far, so good, thought Beverly. The even cadence of Darnell's voice and Beverly's fluid movements minimized the oddity of her actions as toned, skirted legs buckled into a dainty crouch, from which she deftly removed Darnell's loafers, the speaker slightly lifting each foot to make the bizarre out-of-place seem matter-of-fact. Beverly's long, thin fingers slid beneath Darnell's cuffs to find the top of his dark socks just above his ankles—short socks, as they'd planned, to make them easier to remove.

"In the next several minutes you'll be faced with doing something you never believed you would ever do," Darnell continued. He looked over his audience and saw all eyes riveted to the odd sight of one of their top officers making a joint board presentation in bare feet and shirtsleeves.

"There's no way to minimize how strange this will feel," he said, as he felt Beverly's jacketed chest press against his back, while her fingers reached around to the knot of Darnell's necktie. "If this was easy, it would have been done a long time ago."

Beverly's hands moved toward Darnell's belt, a path traveled dozens of times in rehearsal on a mannequin at home. The practice sessions were paying off in swift, sure movements. She knew she had to move quickly to keep board members from dwelling on the extreme weirdness of unzipping and pushing down his pants.

"You're going to have to shed habits you thought were part of who you are," he said, nonchalantly stepping out of his trousers that Beverly kicked into her hands then tossed onto the counter. The air against his legs actually caused him to relax just a little, knowing the most awkward part of the presentation would soon be over. His mind started to wander, causing tiny tingles under his shirttails as he took the luxury of thinking about the foxy financial nerd behind him opening his shirt button by button.

Beverly almost lost her focus at the unfamiliar feel of Darnell's smooth, warm torso as she slid her hands under his white t-shirt and up along his upraised arms.

Darnell stood dramatically still at the head of the auditorium, hands at his side, wearing only tight, dark blue shorts with an ample pouch at his crotch.

"Believe me, I understand how uncomfortable it can be to expose yourself in a way you never have before," he said to giggles from the few board members who weren't too stunned to react. He continued, "But once you take an unprecedented step, you'll find a feeling of freedom and satisfaction."

As he spoke Beverly stepped from behind Darnell and stood in front of him, turning her back to the four dozen rapt board members. Beverly smiled at Darnell and winked inches from his face, then slowly dropped to a crouch until she was eye level with the bulge at the middle of Darnell's underwear.

Beverly's head blocked the board's view of Darnell's shorts, but not hers. Beverly's face flushed as she lowered his underwear. Her rehearsals did not prepare her for such a close encounter with the first black cock she had ever seen. Below the dark curls it hung, seven impressive inches, swaying slightly, thick and smooth skin down to a dark, shiny head that tapered to a sharp-looking point.

Beverly's eye wink threw Darnell off track, diverting some of the stage-fright blood in his brain, to his dick that was responding to the airburst of surprise puffing from Beverly's mouth to Darnell's genitals.

Beverly balled up the blue underwear and flung it toward the counter. She rose and turned in place, facing the board members but still hiding Darnell's newly uncovered midsection from them.

"Unbelievable," said Beverly, stating the obvious, and stepping away from Darnell to reveal his complete nakedness. "But there you see it. A white woman, from an arch rival bank, no less, just stripped naked a black man right before your eyes. Unthinkable."

Darnell stood solid and still, a handsome statue, with broad shoulders, sturdy legs, his square of a pelvis featuring his long, dark dangle that seemed to quiver with potential. Beverly strolled around the front of the room, gesturing and speaking emotionally in a way that, amazingly, moved attention away from the long, exposed black rod.

"I'm certain it's no secret to anyone in this room that a few weeks ago I took my clothes off at a board meeting," she said, her voice rising with emotion. "I humiliated myself. I put my career at risk to try to make the point of what a serious situation we're in."

Everything was going according to plan. Beverly was hitting her stride, and feeling confident enough to depart from her well-practiced script to give even greater emphasis to the points she was making.

Beverly walked over to Darnell and put her hand on his firm, hairless chest.

"Now this man stands in front of you as exposed as can be," she ad-libbed, sliding her left hand down his front, brushing over his pubic hair then lifting his dangling member and cradling it in her palm, showing it off to the astonished board members. "It's as plain as Darnell's penis in my hand that what we are all facing will get incredibly hard."

All of Darnell's energy went into keeping his eyes from popping out of his head as Beverly swiped her burning-hot hand from his chest to stomach. They hadn't discussed anything like this kind of intimacy, and his mind quickly started changing from being impressed by her calculated control of the past several minutes, back to what he thought a few weeks ago: this woman is crazy. He managed to keep a straight face, but he couldn't control everything.

Beverly knew she'd made a disastrous mistake even before she felt the stiffening and lengthening of the meat she held in her hand. A professional terror flooded over her as she imagined losing not just a bank merger, but her business and social standings as well. Nudity was one thing. Now she had crossed the line into hard-core porn by giving her colleague a boner in front of both of their boards. If that wasn't bad enough, her impromptu crack about getting hard threatened to turn the whole presentation, and her career, into a laughingstock. She knew she was just a snicker away from losing control of the room completely. She was frankly surprised the crowd hadn't already erupted in guffaws. She had to act fast.

Beverly released Darnell from her grip and stormed forward. Looming over the first row of spectators she stretched her arm to point at the nude and aroused figure behind her and hissed, "Imagine if that were you." She paced along the front of the room. "Because you're considering a vote that will leave you just as exposed in front of everyone you know."

Beverly stopped her pacing, pivoted, and pronounced, "But it doesn't have to be that way."

Darnell relaxed as he heard Beverly finally return to the script with the words she'd said dozens of times in rehearsals over the phone. As planned, he started walking toward her, working to act dignified and professional despite the long, upward curve of his definitely unplanned woodie waving ahead of him like a town crier announcing his progress. Darnell had expected the embarrassment and the stress of this high-stakes public presentation would bury any sexual excitement. Instead, the public exposure to these high-level leaders in the community, and the surprise cock massage from Beverly's warm hand had him well on his way to a full-blown erection. As his nudity approached the attractive, well-tailored colleague, he lengthened, hardened, and started a small flow of pre-cum. He tried not to think about the possibility that he liked showing off his upright wand in front of a fully clothed crowd and inches from his female colleague. But the mind-control didn't work. He just got stiffer.

"She's right," said Darnell, as he slipped Beverly's blazer from the arms she'd pointed helpfully backward. "Public exposure doesn't have to make you a victim."

As Beverly bent one leg at a time to aid Darnell's removal of her heels, he noticed the back of her thin white blouse drenched with perspiration and her hands were shaking. With her bare feet now flat on the floor, Darnell no longer saw a bold, composed executive, but a slight and fragile woman about to buckle under the pressure of carrying two dysfunctional bank boards for the past three months. It was Beverly's single misstep of stroking Darnell's dick to arousal that had thrown her careful plan off track, but it was now clear that Darnell would have to be the one in charge of repairing the damage.

"Your openness and apparent vulnerability can be turned into a strength," Beverly heard Darnell tell the gathered board members. She felt enormous relief that it was her turn to stand still, hands at her sides, while her nude associate took over. She felt her nerves start to unkink as he undid the button and zipper at the side of her skirt. The smooth lining cooled her fiery hot skin as the cylinder of fabric slid down her legs to her ankles, where she stepped out of it and kicked it backwards.

Beverly wanted to close her eyes and escape into a pure sensation of feeling Darnell undressing her. Instead, she struggled to stay in character, shifting her gaze from one old board member to the next. Most wouldn't meet her eyes, but they all took in her barely covered form—skinny white legs disappearing into her long-sleeve, fitted white top that stopped halfway down her hips, as though it was the world's shortest dress. She noticed a couple men slouching in their seats, desperately seeking a better view up her hem and into the Promised Land.

Beverly almost jumped when she felt Darnell's stiff prick poking and rubbing her rump, as he moved behind her to reach around and start undoing her blouse buttons. Top to bottom her shirt opened, unveiling breast curves, then a lacy white bra, tiny hole of a navel, and a flash of matching white lace panties.

"Revealing yourself puts you in control," Beverly almost jumped as Darnell's voice boomed near her left ear. Two quick flicks from Darnell's fingers loosened her sleeve buttons and she felt her shirt lift from her shoulders. "And I can prove it."

Beverly stood still in her underwear, perfect, highly styled golden hair seeming somehow out of place on someone wearing only a modest white bra concealing nearly all of her small breasts, panties cut into a high arch around her thighs. But that didn't last long. In a flash Darnell unhooked and discarded her top covering, then yanked her bottoms to the ground and tossed the last of her clothes toward the rest of her wardrobe.

"Where's the attention in this room?" asked Darnell, stepping from behind Beverly. "Is it on the people behaving in their suits?"

Darnell left the question unanswered as the two faced the audience, natural and full-frontal. Darnell, a dark shade of brown, rising a head taller than the whitest of white Beverly. Her small but sharply pointed breasts loomed like ledges toward the members of the board. Her large, lightly colored areolas and extended nipples seemed to reach halfway toward the spectators. The small circle of her waist flared slightly into hips, centered by a few blonde curls of pubic hair that decorated the mere pencil line of a crevice that folded into the depths of Beverly's sex.

Darnell spoke: "This is your time to grab the attention of our city and do the right thing for People's First and Freedom First and save our community financial institutions by voting for a merger."

Beverly's spirits sank even lower. That line was supposed to be the big finish—the motivator that would rouse the boards to action. But the only indication of activity in the suddenly enormous auditorium was a distant electrical hum. Maybe the closing line was poorly written. Maybe the board members couldn't concentrate on business while they were watching the waggling of Darnell's wiener she'd just inflated. Or maybe her whole idea of undressing in front of an audience was a stupid way to make a business presentation.

Whatever it was, Beverly had blown it. The banks were doomed. Her career was over. Even if she changed professions and moved away, the story of the stripping banker would surely follow her like failure everywhere. She felt ashamed and foolish, four dozen pairs of old eyes fixed on her genitals.

Beverly's face crimsoned and her knees buckled, but instead of ending in a heap on the floor, her feet lifted from the ground, her legs and shoulders cradled in Darnell's dark arms. She instinctively locked her arms around his neck.

"Doing the right thing isn't all about selfless sacrifice," said Darnell. Trying something radically different can feel pretty good."

Darnell was making things up at a frantic pace. He knew what trouble ad-libbing could cause, but he didn't see an alternative.

Beverly felt lighter than he expected, as he cradled her at her knees and shoulders, and carried her to the counter in front of the room.

Darnell stepped behind the cabinet, used Beverly's body to push the clothes they laid there onto the floor, and set her gently onto the black slap top. Behind the long desk his pecker pumped up harder and straighter as he looked over Beverly's bare body laid out like a specimen on an examination table, begging to be poked and manipulated.

Her golden hair somehow kept its full, smooth perfect form, her eyes looked at the ceiling, blank, waiting for something to happen. Her breasts stood straight up, like perfect little cones layered with her large areolas and erect nipples, arms at her side, laying submissively on the table, legs closed against her pussy, where her pubes stood like a crown over her labia.

"Our banks can do amazing things for each other," said Darnell, using his index finger to stroke Beverly's nipples, which acted like buttons that further hardened themselves, closed her eyelids, and deepened her breathing.

"The effects of our two banks coming in contact with each other will give the community's economy a powerful economic stimulus," said Darnell, as his finger left Beverly's breasts to trace a line across her stomach, belly button, then explored the pathways to her vagina, rubbing and exciting the tissues just inside. Beverly's legs parted and her hips started thrusting movements.

"If you don't act to join together, you'll deny yourself a lot of pleasure and satisfaction," said Darnell. And with that, he unplugged his soggy finger from inside Beverly, and vaulted onto the table over the vulnerable beauty, straight arms holding his face inches from hers, the curve of his black scimitar dangling over her dripping genitals.

Darnell looked Beverly hard into her eyes and asked, "Is this OK?"

"Please?" she responded, making it sound less like a question, and more like a desperate request.

The roomful of board members watched in stunned fascination as Darnell made his dark meat separate Beverly's elegant slit then disappear inside. He slid slowly, all the way until their groins pressed together, then back out almost all the way, leaving just a half-inch inside, then pushed back in.

Darnell began repeating the slow stroke, gasping along with Beverly each time the base of his crown slid past the soft ridges of her labia. He struggled to focus on making the moments last, prolonging the warm, moist sensations squeezing and circling his sex that played inside Beverly. She shamelessly raised her legs and locked her ankles at Darnell's back, helping guide his hips. Her right hand reached into the action and rapidly fingered her clitoris.