Two for Tiffany Ch. 01

Tiffany awoke to the sound of her hated alarm clock. Five-thirty a.m. was as late as she could put off her morning and still make it to work on time. Groggily, she pushed back the down comforter and spun her legs over the side of the bed. The worst part about being the boss was having to make it in early. The ends justified the means, and she thought that in the pay-check it was worth it. That was of little comfort to her now as she stood and shuffled out of the bedroom and her feet felt the cold-hardwood floor. Now in the bathroom, Tiffany started the bath and let it run to heat up. She untied the cloth strings on her loose green yoga pants and let them slide to the floor. She was short, but in good proportion and knew that her legs looked fine when doctored by a good skirt and high heels. She crossed her arms and pulled the white tank top up and over her head. Her breasts were full, and at a "C" looked busty on her petite frame. She still had a young woman's light-pink nipples, despite being twenty-nine, and they barely rose off the curve of her chest unless she was chilled or aroused.

She leaned over the tub and adjusted the water to the correct temperature with the cold tap. Satisfied, she pulled back and tugged the chrome ring that sent the water flowing up to the shower-head. With a few pulses from air-bubbles the water stabilized and Tiffany put one leg over the bath's edge and stepped into the flowing warm water. She pulled the double shower curtain closed and put her head in the current to wake up. It was a personal ritual, her morning routine, and she had acquired many products for this part in particular. Stepping away and turning her bare back to the water, she reached for her mask and massaged the product into her fine face. It had taken her an eternity to find a skin product that kept the pores along her pleasing features clean and soft. She left the mask on as the steamy bathroom filled with the smell of her fruity shampoo. She worked it into her shoulder-length dark brown hair and rinsed both the shampoo and the face mask from her body.

Tiffany applied conditioner that would make her hair feel like silk once it was dry, before taking up and soaping her loofa. She started at her neck and gently scrubbed over the curve of her shoulders and the lines of her arms. She moved the soapy pink puff around her breasts and her nipples responded by hardening and rising to twin light-pink peaks. Her abs and back received the same treatment and she began to wash her sex. She liked the feeling of being totally smooth and had found a good spa that would happily wax her every two weeks. Her pussy matched her nipples in that it looked young and delicate. The two outer labia were more pronounced than the inner and the pink of her was only visible when she spread her slit apart. She rubbed the loofa on her and twisted back to soap her firm butt from behind, not forgetting to rub the cleft of her ass and sensitive anus clean.

She finished moving the suds over her smooth legs and feet, re-hung the loofa on its chrome hook, and moved under the warm cascade of water to rinse her body free of conditioner and soap. Tiffany reveled in the way the warm water washed over her skin and thought to her-self that the hot shower was the crowning achievement of western society's progress. It was reluctantly that she twisted the knobs of the shower off and pushed the curtain aside to step onto the floor towel. She grabbed a towel and twisted it into her hair. Before toweling her body off, Tiffany applied lotion generously over her moist skin to make sure that it was absolutely luxurious for her date after work. It felt like it was a long way away yet, but Fridays after the work of the week is done are what everyone's living for, right? It was for her, she may be corporate to pay the bills, but she needed what was coming tonight to make her feel, alive, powerful, and fulfilled.

She finished the long litany of becoming clean and working her hair straight, and walked back into her bedroom to her closet. Comfortable short-heeled black shoes, a grey knee-length pencil skirt, nude-colored pantyhose, a white blouse, and a black sweater made up her work dress for the day. Tiffany believed completely in separating her business and pleasure. She would not be one to be caught having a sordid affair at work and become the subject of water-cooler gossip. Perhaps it was this trait that had allowed her to become successful at such a young age. She finished putting on the last of her clothes and set the alarm as she prepared to leave her small colonial home. Her job acting as director for a contract firm that does external accounting paid her enough that she could live much more lavishly than she chose, but Tiffany liked to keep things cozy. Anyways, as long as where she lived had a walk-in closet, what use was all the extra space when it was just her?

She left out of her front door and used the key fob to open the doors of her silver Ford Escape. She swung her Coach handbag past the center consul and pushed herself into the driver's seat. Closing the door with her left hand as she keyed the ignition with her right, Tiffany heard the engine catch and the first few words of her audio book start narrating again. She had read in the Washington Post that the D.C. area officially had the worst traffic in the country. Her coping mechanism was to check out audio books from the library and zone out while she braved the stop-and-go traffic of the congested highways. She caught a look at her blue eyes and pulled-back hair in the rearview mirror. Just past seven-o-clock and she was on her way to work, with a short layover in store at Starbucks for an early morning caramel macchiato.