Tiffany Ch. 1

Note: This is my first story – part 1, of course, and constructive criticism is always appreciated. Enjoy!
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Hi! My name is Tiffany, or “Tiff”, for short. This is the story about meeting the man who changed my life, Chris, and how I was finally able to “let myself go”, sexually. I guess Chris was the guy that allowed me to finally express my sexuality and got me to “cut loose my inner slut”!

First, let me tell you a little about myself. I’m 28 years old and live by myself in Miami. I’m 5’8, 115 lbs, with sandy-blonde hair that has a slight natural curl and hangs a few inches below my shoulders. Yes, my curtains match my carpet! I like to think I have “dirty” blonde hair, because my mind is always a bit more naughty than people ever suspect.

I absolutely LOVE my body! I’ve always taken good care of myself which includes watching what I eat and spending time at the gym once or twice a week as my schedule allows. I blossomed in my mid teens as a freshman in high school, losing my virginity at 15 after one of the school dances. My boobs seem to grow faster than I was, and I really wasn’t that comfortable with myself until my senior year when I seemed to grow into my boobs, instead of how most girls had to wait for their boobs to grow at all.

I was always very athletic, and made the cheer squad my sophomore year. My mom was very attentive to me, her only daughter, and always gave me great advice about my looks and how to take care of myself. I learned – very quickly – that my tone body and firm tits could get me just about anything I wanted, but – to be honest – I was always a bit shy. She also taught me the importance of being “well groomed”, especially since I was going to be wearing a cheer uniform and boys were always going to try everything they could to get a look between my legs.

I was almost always wet. My mom had told me, when she was teaching me about good grooming habits, that she also “suffered” from almost-constant wetness. It made sex a hell of a lot of fun, but I just needed to be aware that I could easily soak through the front of my panties if I wasn’t careful. My mom was gorgeous and taught me really well, how to keep looking my best.

Oh, I had all the urges and curiosities that every young girl has and played around with boys as best I could, but in high school, they just didn’t know what they were doing and I was always fantasizing about my “knight in shining armor” that would sweep me off my feet leave me breathless every time we touched. That fueled my fantasies to no end, but with the handful of boys that I actually “made it” with, none of them really blew my socks off.

I felt like I was constantly horny, and no matter how many times I masturbated or used whatever “technique” my girlfriends would tell me about (including the use of various objects), I was just never satisfied.

When I went to college in Gainsville, I went crazy! I was having sex several times a week and masturbated every chance I got – sometime three or four times a day! I had to start being careful, though, as I had been walked-in on a few times by some of my sorority sisters which was embarassing as hell. Plus, I didn’t want to be known as a slut, or desperate like some of the girls – I was just really horny and was always on the lookout for that one special guy who knew how to take care of my needs. I also began to notice that a lot of guys were intimidated by me and no matter how much I flirted with them, they would never ask me out. I guess they expected me to be just another dumb blonde and were afraid that I was actually smarter than they were while looking as hot as I did.

After getting my Bachelor’s degree in business management (I really wasn’t looking at a career in business, but I didn’t really know what else I wanted to do), I ended up moving to Miami after my best friend moved there when she graduated. She just kept telling me about all the hot guys that were everywhere and I could take my pick, any night of the week. That fueled even more fantasies in my naughty little head, so I took a chance and moved.

Scanning the want-ads looking for work, I kept noticing how many dental offices were looking for licensed Dental Hygienists and how much they got paid and figured: “What the hell?” Plus, it was probably a good way to meet lots of guys when they came in for checkups! Boy, was I in for a surprise!

I was 26 when I finally got my certificate, and was on top of the world. My body looked fantastic! I spent every chance I got on the beach, wearing the smallest bikinis I could fit in to, learning that if I squeezed into one that was a bit too small, guys took more notice of me. My tits were still nice and firm (guys (and girls) would always ask if they were “real”, considering so many girls in Miami get boob-jobs), my tummy was toned, and my ass had just the right wiggle to it. Mom was right – with the right diet and the right workout, you could keep things from sagging too early and stay looking ‘hot’. The guys at the beach would constantly let their frisbee, football, volleyball, or whatever, land near me. When they came to pick it up, they always tried flirting with me or just gawking. That always got me horny and I sometimes slid my free hand down my bikini bottoms and played with my clit while driving home, masturbating like a nympho when I got home to my apartment. I’m sure the neighbors could hear my moans and screams on a regular basis, but I didn’t care – I was hot, dripping-down-my-legs wet, and constantly horny. I still hadn’t found “Mr. Right”, but I was having a GREAT time trying!

I started working at Dr. Fiskar’s office which was a very modern office located in an up-scale part of Miami. He and his wife started their practice some time ago, and have made quite a name for themselves. He was an Orthodontist and his wife was “just” a Dentist. Between the two of them, they easily made a half-million dollars a year. There were five of us “girls” in the office: four of us were Hygienists and Sandy was the office receptionist. We all got along so wonderful, even the patients enjoyed all the laughing and joking we constantly did.

Within a few weeks of working there, I noticed that we (all us “girls”, as Dr. Fiskar and his wife liked to call us) were all about the same age and all very attractive. I’m pretty sure I had the best tits, though! Even at 26, they were a full and firm 34B with small aerola, and depending on the bra, I could fill up a C cup quite nicely. As I said before, I absolutely LOVE my body and I’m VERY proud of how good I look. No, I’m not conceited, I just love my body!

Much to my own disappointment, and even though I was “experienced” in bed, I was never comfortable enough with a guy to be very daring or risky. Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE sex and I’m very horny (and willing!) most of the time, but I guess I just never had anyone push me over the edge where I could explore all the wild fantasies in my head. That all changed, however, when we got a new patient at the office.

I remember that day VERY well…

I had my own two-bedroom house in a nice neighborhood, about 20 minutes away from work. I got a great deal on it, courtesy of a little “hookup” with a patient who was a Real Estate investor. It was against the rules to date any of the patients, but I was a single – and VERY horny – girl, so what did you expect? I think Doc knew about some of my activities, but he never said anything and I always kept everything very professional at work. Some of the other girls had done it, too, and we knew better than to blab about it at work (although we could never resist giggling about it during lunch in our little break room! Doc and his wife didn’t seem to care that much, considering they would frequently spend “lunch” together in one of their private offices, coming out an hour later with their hair all tossed and sometimes a button or two left undone).

When I woke up at my usual un-godly time of 6:00 am, I stumbled my way into the kitchen to start the coffee while I took a shower. I didn’t sleep in the nude; rather, I preferred one of my over-size night shirts and panties. I guess that was just left over from my days in the sorority where I was just too embarrassed to walk around naked, like some of the other girls did.

I padded into the bathroom and started the water running to get warm. While I waited, I absent-mindedly slid my nightshirt up and over my head, letting it drop on the floor. As I did, however, I felt this incredible rush of pleasure wash over me, making my nipples nice and hard. I have very sensitive nipples surrounded by rather small areola, and they get hard quite easily. I catch people looking all the time, no matter how thick or padded my bra is. Sometimes it’s annoying, but I like the sensations I get, thinking that my looks might actual become part of someone else’s fantasy. The drawback, is when my nipples get hard, my pussy usually gets pretty wet. I’ve actually had to come home during lunch a few times, just to change into a dry pair before anyone notices a growing wet spot on the front of my scrubs!

I guess I should mention that we’re all supposed to wear medical scrubs as our “uniform” at work. They leave a lot to be desired in terms of fashion, and they are a far cry from what I usually wear – which is a lot more revealing. I learned, just like my bikinis, that if I wear a size smaller than what I should, the tops actually accent my tits and, coupled with the right bra, can REALLY show some good cleavage. The pants, on the other half (no pun intended), leave a lot to be desired. At least the fabric is somewhat thin, and wearing one size smaller causes them to hug my ass and curves in just the right places (back AND front!). I’ve pretty much stopped wearing regular “briefs” panties and stuck with thongs. I love the way the feel against my skin (what little there is!), and when I let the side straps ride higher than my pants, I get a real kick out of the expressions on the guys (and sometimes the girls) faces. With scrubs, you can certainly tell what kind – if any – underwear the girls wear. Even with my white ones, though, you can’t really see too much in front (thank goodness, or my constantly wet pussy would show like a neon sign!).

At any rate, as I stood there wearing nothing but my “sleeping only” briefs, I stared at my own tits and rock-hard nipples that look like 1/2″ pencil erasers and wondered what the hell got me so horny. “I must have been dreaming.” I said to myself, although I could not remember what I must have dreamt about.

Without a second thought, I slid my panties down over my hips and let them drop to my ankles where I could kick them in the pile along with my night-shirt.