Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Ann Cory

Chapter One
     
     
    Her hand wrapped around its full, firm base. The silky smooth texture warm against her palm. With careful strokes, her fingers glided along its long, thick length. Her mouth watered. Lips tingled. Nothing else compared to its taste. Pure decadence. She rested the tip against her tongue and noted the sweetness. Her belly rumbled its desire. She slid her lips midway, hardly able to control herself. Teeth light against the exterior, she took a bite. The sugary banana flavor hit her taste buds with an all-out zing. What would accompany the exquisite fruit? Cinnamon. Coconut milk. Pineapple sorbet. Honey. A pinch of nutmeg.
    Perfection.
    Tiffany Woods bolted upright and grabbed a pen and notepad from her bedside table. In her own version of shorthand, she jotted down her newest idea for a smoothie recipe. Her dreams of late had strayed from erotic fantasies to creative fruit-based concoctions. Though the phallic shape of the banana had been somewhat arousing. Still, smoothies were her focus, and with good reason. Her future depended on them. As a result, she learned to keep paper nearby so her ideas wouldn’t be forgotten once her feet touched the sandstone-colored carpet.
    She yawned away the last remnants of sleep and stretched her arms above her head. Silvery rays of dawn washed over her skin from the large bay windows. After tomorrow, she hoped her mind would cut her some slack and allow her a good night’s rest.
    One more lingering moment in the confines of her cozy sleigh bed, and then she knew it was time to get moving. The soft down of the comforter beckoned her to stay, but the day called to her. With a sigh, Tiffany slid out of bed and shuffled into the shower. Warm mist coated her skin. She tilted her head back and let the water drench her hair. Deep breath in, she mentally prepared herself. The day would be busy, but fun, too. With Marcus and Shane set to come over, fun was guaranteed.
    Towel-dried and somewhat awake, she chose a simple outfit from the closet. A creamy tank top with a touch of lace at the chest, a cotton green shirt left unbuttoned, and a dark denim skirt that hung an inch above her knees. From the dresser she pulled out a cringe-worthy pair of turquoise and gray striped panties, part of a set she received as a gag gift when she’d graduated from University. Not only unsightly, but each one had an attitude-laced saying stitched on them. To her horror, they were all she had to choose from. That would teach her to put off laundry for weeks.
    With a groan she slipped them on and didn’t even bother to look at what the waistband said. It was humiliating enough to know that she didn’t own a single pair of pretty panties. Or a sexy bra for that matter. Since the tank top and shirt concealed enough, she decided against wearing a bra altogether. Some day she’d splurge on herself with lacy lingerie from
Victoria
’s Secret. For now she wasn’t too concerned. It’s not like there was anyone to get all dolled up for.
    She finished getting dressed and rolled the shirtsleeves to her elbows. Now to tackle the tangled mess that was her long dark brown hair. After trying it up and in different styles, she put it in a ponytail with a few soft tendrils to frame her face. She kept her makeup soft and light. With the state of her nerves she’d probably sweat the stuff off anyways.
    Tiffany did a final circle in front of the mirror and headed down the hallway to the kitchen. She had an hour before her favorite guys would arrive. As supporters of her dream to start up a smoothie bar, she thought it fitting they pick her five best recipes. Their opinions had always mattered to her. They’d seen her at her worst and witnessed the changes she’d made over time, mainly physical ones. Growing up, she’d been ridiculed about her weight. While proud of how she looked now, past insecurities still plagued her. Even her parents had given her a hard time and treated her like an outcast.
    Now, a