DISCLAIMER: Nothing in this story is real or should be considered as such. This story is very odd and is based on a strange fantasy I concocted that brings together some fetishes I'm into. This first chapter introduces the characters, sets up a little bit of where the story will be going, and yes, features hardcore sex between consenting adults. I do know where the story is going to be headed and have the future chapters mapped out in my head. However, I welcome any feedback and I'm always excited to discuss the story and characters, and chatting/bouncing around ideas for future stories. I hope you enjoy delving into my insane mind.
NOTE: This story features characters that appear in my other stories. They do not take place in the same continuity. Each series can be considered its own universe of sorts, with difference events, relationships, and couplings.
ONE STEP FURTHER CHAPTER 1
Tiffany checked her reflection in her bedroom's standing mirror, quirking her mouth as she debated her outfit. Too casual, she eventually decided and pulled off her t-shirt. She figured she'd keep the jeans, not wanting to go the opposite way and come off too dressy. She just needed to find the right top.
"Remind me again how this isn't a date," came Kyle's voice from speaker phone. Stuffing the shirt into a drawer and pushing it shut with her hip, she grabbed her cell from the dresser and made her way over to the closet. She flipped through the tops hanging inside with one hand while holding her phone with the other. "Cause it feels a little like a date."
"Mainly because I'm dating you," she said matter-of-factly. "For, like, the past month."
"Yeah, I know, it's just..."
Kyle trailed off as Tiffany found the perfect top and tugged it off the hanger. It was loose and oversized with a wide neck that would reveal her collarbones almost all the way to her shoulders but the cotton knit was the perfect style, right between casual and formal, and the heather gray went well with the light blue of her tight jeans. She laid the top onto the bed and placed her phone next to it, freeing both her hands. She unhooked her bra, releasing her modest breasts, and removed the straps, which would have been clearly visible and just too suggestive in her mind.
"It's just dinner with a friend," she reassured him, slipping her bra back on and pulling the top over her head. "I'll come over right after, I swear."
"Okay," Kyle relented. "I'll see you later tonight then. Bye."
"Bye."
Tiffany hung up and sat down her bed with a sigh. She brushed her thick, wavy hair straight and then started tying it into a loose braid.
She had heard the insecurity in her boyfriend's voice, but that was nothing new for Kyle. It was one of his defining characteristics. Not that Tiffany was much different. She possessed her own set of timidities and a lack of self-confidence that came from being a rather late bloomer. In fact, it was only this past year that she finally filled out, although admittedly not by much. Even still, she'd gone from awkward and gangly to long and lean, a taper in her waist and a little more in her chest and butt doing wonders for her figure. And she always had a very pretty face, with thick lips, dimples when she smiled, and a perfectly proportioned nose. However, she did have brown eyes, brown hair, and glasses, so a lot of guys still saw her as a touch plain.
Not Kyle though. Kyle always had a thing for Tiffany, even before she hit her prime, and a month ago he finally worked up the courage to ask her out, much to, well, almost everyone's surprise, including Tiffany herself. However, the two had always enjoyed each other's company, so they slipped into dating rather easily. They liked the same movies, books, and tv shows, and felt very comfortable talking and spending time together. Their relationship was strong, but Tiffany knew exactly where Kyle's nervousness was coming from.
While the emotional part of the relationship came easily, the physical part had barely progressed since day three.
Sure, they'd held hands and kissed, and on more than one occasion, their make-out sessions had gotten rather hot and heavy: tongues entwining, lips smacking, breaths panting. But the furthest Kyle had gone in terms of touching her had been hands on her hips, neck and back. Tiffany certainly wanted them to go further, god did she want it and so much more, but her own insecurity kept her from initiating things. Neither her nor Kyle had ever dated anyone else, and that inexperience seemed to be holding back both of them.
She did wish he was a little more assertive, that he would demand from her the types of things her mind and body longed to do, things she thought about at home when releasing some built up... energy. But she was willing to go at his pace and would do whatever he wanted whenever he was ready to ask for it.
But she understood why her going to dinner with another guy might set off some of his insecurity alarms. If she was being honest with herself, Tiffany also found the whole situation just a little strange, but she had already accepted the invitation and the Midwestern sensibilities in her would have been mortified at rescinding.
As Tiffany gave herself one last look in the mirror, pleased with the result, her phone dinged. Dylan was here. Running out the door, she hopped into the passenger seat of his car with a smile, glad to see he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a polo. Her choice of attire was perfectly on point.
"Hey!" she said brightly, clicking her seatbelt into place. "Thanks for picking me up."
"Of course," he said casually, backing out of her driveway and heading out. "You look great, by the way. I'm used to seeing you in your work clothes, and well, yeah. You look great."
"Thanks," Tiffany said with a slight blush. She stayed quiet for a moment, watching as they turned a few familiar roads. "Where are we going, anyway?"
"Oh, the Parlor."
Tiffany spun to look at him in disbelief. Dylan tried to hold a straight face, but he burst into a laugh almost immediately. She rolled her eyes behind her glasses.
"Can you imagine?"
"Well, you come in there enough."
"Yeah but my reason for that is right next to me," he said, again turning on the charm. Tiffany opened her mouth to respond, with what she didn't quite know even as her lips began to part, but before she could say anything, he continued, "Well, second most reason. I really do enjoy their salted caramel swirl. But ice cream isn't exactly ideal dinner."
"Uh huh," Tiffany said sarcastically, deciding to let his comment go. It actually felt nice to receive compliments like this. After going so long being mostly ignored, the sudden influx of attention was a welcome and enticing change of pace. "Just drive."
Dylan had been visiting Tiffany regularly at the local ice cream shop where she worked for the past few months. He nearly always waited for her to serve him and she always appreciated his easy-going and charming attitude whenever they interacted. He tended to tip generously and was by far her favorite customer. It didn't hurt that he was rather attractive, tall with sandy blonde hair, hazel green eyes, and a strong jawline. Her coworkers teased her mercilessly about him, constantly saying that if they were her, they'd have taken him to the break room and gotten their own creamy treat already. They even offered to cover for her if she ever wanted to.
Tiffany had never entertained that particular thought. Well, that wasn't true. She sort of did once.
Late at night, at home in bed, hand down her pajama pants and under her panties, slowly playing with herself, she had imagined doing something that kinky. She tried thinking about Dylan coming in, her biting her lip and leading him toward the breakroom, locking the door behind them. But she wasn't feeling it... until she turned back around, and it wasn't a naked Dylan standing in front of her when she dropped to her knees. It was a faceless man whose prick stood at attention inches from her face. As she imagined parting her lips and taking him in her mouth, Tiffany grew wetter and stroked her clit faster. It wasn't the person that started to turn her on but the act itself, the sheer naughtiness of it.
As she continued to rub herself, eyes clenched and writhing on her bed, she pictured sucking someone off in that backroom, hurriedly bobbing her head so they wouldn't get caught. She was getting closer but not quite reaching her climax when in her mind, she looked up and Kyle took the place of the faceless man she was blowing. Her orgasm hit her like a train, a confluence of ideas slamming into her and rocking her body. Her slutty behavior, the taboo nature of the act, and the new idea that Kyle had asked her to do it, pulled her into the backroom and pushed her to her knees so she could suck his cock while on the job. It all came together and made her explode in pleasure.
That night had helped solidify Tiffany's feelings for Kyle and revealed a few other hidden desires of her own. It also let her know that despite his attractiveness, Tiffany wasn't actually that interested in Dylan, which made her acceptance of his invitation to dinner that much easier.
