Becoming the King of A New Filthy World

Her super short skirt seems absolutely formal by comparison, and you can't help but stare at her chest in equal parts incredulity and appreciation.

"I thought you were from Los Angeles," Lucas said.

It doesn't even begin to properly express the many conflicting and confused feelings he has been struck by all at once, but what the fuck else is he supposed to say?

She has to know what she's wearing; she had to consciously put it on this morning, leave her house, and come here in it. And now she was with other people.

Pointing it out seemed absolutely idiotic, but--wait, why were these people acting like it was all totally normal?

He looks over at the group, and one of the people standing there talking to her is Davis, a graying man in his fifties who has made a habit of hitting on women twice his age in the office and has been the result of multiple 'incidents' over the years, and yet he seems completely regular and composed about the matter of Christine and her perfect tits being out.

"Oh, did I say LA?" she asks, rolling her eyes like it's all a big joke to her. "I've lived so many places, I guess I have trouble keeping track of them all!" She turns quickly around. "So, what do you guys think of my top?"

"It's really nice," Davis says, and it almost sounds like a regular compliment.

"Is it a west coast thing? It looks amazing, but I've never seen one before." Rose is the woman who works in the cabin beside his, a stacked redhead who he has spent every moment since he got promoted to this department wanting to ask out.
She wears her hair loose down to her shoulders, her very typical business clothes emphasizing a lovely figure but being very modest about her cleavage, keeping it all covered up.

She's the gem of his department, but he has never found the right time or the right way in to make a move, so he's mostly just kept his mouth shut.

Some other people remark on her top too, and they're all positive but all fail to address the fact that she's wearing absolutely fucking nothing over her tits.



It's a bizarre experience to play the observer to and he wonders if he's just losing his fucking mind.

Maybe he's in a weird-ass dream and he's going to wake up curled under the bar with a pool of vomit beneath himself and his friends trying to pull him up to his feet. It would make a whole lot more sense than any of this.

"No, it's a bit of my own thing, but I'm hoping it catches on soon." Christine turns toward him and asks him last. "What do you think?" she asks, sticking her chest out.

"Do you like my top?" Her eyes shift down toward his pants, and she can see that he is absolutely rock hard, the bulging outline impossible to deny, but she seems the only one affected by it.

A few steps bring her closer toward him, as she grabs his pants and very suddenly tugs at his belt.

"I--hey!" What is going on here? Christine starts at his belt, and he tries to push her away, but that's not enough to stop her from getting his cock out.

He feel a pang of sudden panic and confusion wash over him in the process, and his cock got out suddenly and he washes over at embarrassment at the fact that his co-workers get a sight of his cock, and he look at them with an immediate look of apology on his face and hope they don't think ill of him for what Christine is done.

But they all seem completely unaffected by the sight of his cock swinging up and slapping Christine against the cheek. Nobody's even raising an eyebrow.

"Oh by the way, the coffee machine's broken in the break room," Davis says with a shrug. "Who knows if they're going to call in someone to fix it today, but my money is on next week, so I hope you like that coffee place across the street."

It's an insanely mundane level of small talk to make given that his cock is out, but he's almost frozen in terror and confusion, left to stand there wondering what the fuck was going on.

All while Christine settles his cock down between her tits, which she squishes down against his cock. "You don't have as many Starbucks around here as I'm used to seeing," she says as she starts to rub her tits up along his cock, looking over her shoulder toward the others. "So I hope your local coffee places are up to snuff. I'm a bit of a caffeine addict."

Lucas groans as her pillowy, soft tits embrace his cock, and there was so little about what was happening that made sense that he feel removed from it all, suspended in the boundary between reality and something else.

He's getting a titfuck from a beautiful and mysteriously full of surprises woman who has a top with her tits out, and nobody is acting like any part of this is anything but the most normal thing in the world, talking about coffee and cafes, going about their days in the early morning.

It's a regular conversation that just happens to include a titfuck, and somehow this isn't registering at all on the weirdness meters of anybody.

"The coffee place across the street is amazing," Rose says. "Don't worry, you'll love it. They use only the best beans, and they make the best cup of coffee in the city. If it wasn't so far from my home I'd get all my coffee from there."

Christine smiles and gives a thankful nod. "I'll give it a try then." She turns back toward him, giving him a playful wink as she works her chest steadily along his cock, reading his expression and seeming to delight in the very clear frustration across his face, like she knows how off-putting and bizarre this is to him.

Which makes her the only one who seems to be acting normally, which is unfortunate because she's also the one giving him a titfuck and is solely responsible for all this madness.

"What about you? What kind of coffee do you prefer?" She licks her lips, staring at him with a burning lust that feels utterly inappropriate for both the workplace and for discussions about coffee options, and it's throwing him completely for a loop.

****

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