Save The Sparrows 01

Save the Sparrows 01

Hey there, I'm Ron and as an upcoming responsible young adult male living in the city of Middleton, how could I pass up the opportunity to attend and support one of Mrs. Bentley's fund raiser gala's, right? I mean, it basically lined up with my 21st and it was about time that I sipped on my first glass of bubbly, right?

And it didn't hurt that I ran into Mrs. Lucid just prior to the fund raiser event while at the shopping mall, where I was also picking out a new sports jacket to wear, you know, without a neck tie and with brand new and shiny athletic shoes. And she had a very convincing argument.

"My evening gown selection, Ron? You know, shimmering blue sequined, lowcut in the front, swooping low down the back, clingy body hugging like the skin on a grape and with a slit up to here, so?"

I mean, except for the color selection, that's exactly what was printed on the back of the event ticket in fine print!

"And since this will be my first ever City of Middleton fund raiser event, Mrs. Lucid, just who or what are we saving, huh? The crickets? The turtles? Or is it maybe the chipmunks turn, huh?"

"(Giggles) well, first timer, Ron, we saved the crickets last season, check the box and turtles now have a safe walking and waddling crossing tunnel under the Strip, check the box and saving the chipmunks fund raiser is scheduled for later this Fall, right after we raise the funds required to build a new 'Kur-Plunk, Kur-Plunk, Kur-Plunk, Kur-Plunk' Pickleball courts behind the Civic Center. For this Saturday night, we're saving the sparrows [inhales to highlight the heave of her boobs], so?"

No negative comments please folks, but my condo complex has a small 'Kur-Plunk, Kur-Plunk, Kur-Plunk, Kur-Plunk' Pickleball court and although it may be a growing sport and all, but that constant 'Kur-Plunk, Kur-Plunk, Kur-Plunk' sound is maddening! Unless Mrs. Sanders is playing and then it's okay because she's making 40 something the new 30 something while wearing a very 20 something short and frilly Pickleball sports skirt.

Also, um, folks, haven't the sparrows managed just fine on their own for like millions upon millions of years? I mean, what is the city going to do? Buy extra tree branches? I mean, because for literally millions and millions of years, right?

"Oh, um, alright then, Mrs. Lucid, um, so, I'm looking even more forward to the event now and I can't hardly wait to see you all decked out in a clingy evening gown and I mean that, so, um, who is going to judge me for having one of the smaller donation checks, huh? Like everyone or what? Because I have no come back or clap back for a bunch of smirking side eyes, so?"

"(Giggles) well, technically, nobody will judge you because all donations are equally welcomed, but that nosey busy body Mrs. Peabody might judge both of us if she happens to catch us making a mistake or two while we cheek air kiss each other as a greeting because that old biddy..."

"[Clump, clump, clump comes the sales clerk] ahem, excuse me, Mrs. Lucid, I've placed your sexy seduction gown, I mean, your evening gown in dressing room #3 for you to shimmy into for a proper fitting, so, that's ready for you now. And I don't mean to over step any boundaries here, but will this very handsome young man be joining you in the dressing room, hmm?"

"Oh, I mean, I mean, I mean..."

"Oh, I just thought you might want to give this very handsome young man a sneak preview of your banging MILF body, especially since the irritating and over bearing hubby will probably be at the fund raiser event with you, which will, you know, put a huge limit lid on literally everything that may or not happen in the dark corners of the Civic Center, so?"

"Oh, I mean, I mean, I mean, you left out sack of wet sand in the sack, but I mean, I mean, I mean..."

"Mm-hmm and since I can that you've visited the tanning salon recently in preparation for yet another one of Mrs. Bentley's fund raisers, mm-hmm, this would be a great opportunity for you to test and dismiss the theory that all guys say they hate panty line tan lines because my experience is that they all go bonkers over them at the end of the day, mm-hmm!"

"OMFG, I mean, I mean, I mean, you also left out the part about..."

"Oh, I left out the part about how handsome young men get quite excited when they watch a woman trying on a clingy evening gown, that's totally meant to be worn braless, hmm, Mrs. Lucid? I mean, suit yourselves since I have other customers to attend to, so, ta-ta and I'll judge you for settling to remain sexless at the checkout counter then, mm-hmm, Auntie Lucy Lucid!"

Well, SOB, right? Modern families, right? And Mrs. Lucid's body is pretty banging. But I didn't bang her because she knelt down and took charge of things that way and nope, I didn't argue with that. I did argue with myself about why I didn't start attending these fund raisers sooner, but it's never too late to get things started, right?

Anyways, that Saturday evening, I showered, I shaved, I slipped on my new sports jacket, neck tieless, like most of the sea of clingy evening gowns will be worn braless that night and made my way down to the Civic Center for a night of mingling and fun. Not that I knew what I was doing after I breezed my way through the Civic Center doors, which gave me my first introduction to...

[Clink, clink, clink, clink]

"Oops [sip, hic, sip], my bad people, I had a Mrs. Bentley moment because I'm Mrs. Bentley and I jumped the gun on my own fund raiser opening Champagne toast [hic, sip, hic, sip], so, as you were everyone for another 15 minutes [sip, hic], so cheers!"

[It's not unusual for Mrs. Bentley to jump the gun for a Champagne bubbly toast or just to toast to herself.] [Hic]

My first introduction to a Mrs. Bentley sponsored event and I just barely inside of the double doors.

"Well, well, well, look at how handsome you've become, Ron Ronalds! Step right up to the registration table, handsome."

"[Peers down because that's what lowcut gowns almost demands] oh, Mrs. Finkle, I mean, are you the person I'm supposed to hand my donation check to [spies a crease to slip his donation into], huh? And to return your compliment, holy popular gamer mom in a clingy dress, Mrs. Finkle! You're fire tonight!"

"(Giggles) well, Ron, I'll take that for now, but I'm not the one who takes your notable donation check. I'm the one who smoothly and softly applies your sticky paper nametag to you sports jacket lapel, so?"

"[Still gawking downward] oh, and do you do that while exchanging cheek air kisses with me like society people do like all the time, huh?"

"[Extends a leg through the slit in her evening gown] well, I've always been quite prone to developing a purple hickey quite quickly if your lips make a mistake and latch onto my neck by accident instead of air kissing my cheeks and it just so happens that my idiot hubby is here tonight, so, just as soon as your googly eyes have gotten their fill of my over exposed cleavage [slightly leans forward to improve the view], I'll take care of your nametag, so?"

Um, was that permission to gawk a little longer or was that a hint that my googly eyes saw enough, huh? LOL, there is never enough of over exposed cleavage, am I right folks?

Also, huh, there was an entire process to the nametag creation procedure. It stands with a slow stand up, which totally kicked Mrs. Finkle's leg way out of the slit in her sequined evening gown, all which led to her bending right back over to the table with her back to me while hand writing out my nametag. And that's all I really remember.

"[Smoothly smooths out the paper nametag on his jacket lapel] is your mother going to be here tonight, Ron [smooth rub, smooth rubbing action], hmm?"

"Um, no, Mrs. Finkle, she's in Vegas with my auntie Lia, so?"

"[Continues her smooth and slow rubbing actin] good. Did you want to find a dark corner to bicker argue back and forth later tonight, hmm [closes the body gap], hmm?"

"Oh, I mean, what would we possibly have to bicker argue about then, Mrs. Finkle because I never did anything wrong on game nights and if I did, it was all by accident, so?"

"[Gap? What gap?] Mm-hmm, I think we need to bicker argue back and forth about what will happen between us tonight and what will not happen between [bump, grind, bump] us tonight and I'll start out by saying that whatever happens between us tonight, it's above the waistline. And, and, and, that starting point is as firm as your cock is firm right now and that's right, Ron Ronalds, I've addressed the throbbing elephant in the room directly [accepts the throb, throb, throbbing because the gap was zero], so?"

Huh, all of a sudden, I needed to address within my head just why I never attended a fund raiser before.

"Well, hold on, Mrs. Finkle because we need to address which of our waistlines we're talking about because as a guy, most of my power is below the waistline and we need to add that to the argument because..."

"[Gently raises a knee through the slit in her evening gown and addresses his man problem that way] well, fine, you found my loophole, I mean, a loophole in my argument, but there is no way in hell that I'll be kneeling down for you in his bazillion dollar evening gown, un-huh, because..."

"(Ahem!) There you are, darling wife. I don't mean to speak in my un-earned jealous hubby voice, but the slap sticking of the sticky paper nametags process needs to be a little quicker! And with a visible gap! And with less circular hand rubbing! You know, more like the dead cold fish that you are in the bedroom, so, move the guest entry line along people!"

"(Ahem, you mean the dead cold fish that our marriage has turned me into because...)"

"What's that, honey, huh?"

"Oh, I mean, I'm recommending the fish for dinner tonight (squishy dick), because it looked under cooked and squishy (just like the under whelming dick in your pants, asshole), well, you should try the fish tonight, Harvey and you know, and choke on a bone!"

"(Choke on a boner in the men's room, aha, aha, aha) just keep the line moving because..."

"Sir, sir, please side step down to my area please since I'm the receiver and recorder of the donation checks, please step down, Ron Ronalds, mm-hmm."

Well, that timing was perfect since the Finkle's were getting into it.

"I mean, even though I've been told not to worry about it, Mrs. Conner, I mean, I'm a little embarrassed over the size of my donation check [mm-hmm, and he's still glaring down], so?"

"[Doesn't mind his looking down her lowcut gown] well, we don't judge the size of the donation becasue it all adds up at the end of the event, especially since Mrs. Bentley sent Peacock Penny and her big bags of money to live in France to own and operate a grape field, which means Mrs. Bentley now buys her bubbly in bulk. Anyways, all that matters is that you be the man here and make me confess and make me confess it true and be forceful about it, so?"

"Oh, I mean, by all means, Mrs. Conner, confess! And by the way, confess it true and confess it right here and right now and don't leave out any of the details!"

"Mm-hmm, I'm emotionally weak, Ron and I openly confess that I wouldn't be mad at all tonight if a certain handsome young 20 something man caught me near the upper floor staircase and pinned me with my back to the wall under the stairs as he kissed me passionately, all the while with his hands exploring my body in any way he wanted to and since I'm actually purely commando under my evening gown tonight, mm-hmm, the slit in my gown would make for an easy and squishy finger banging quite available and if it's only a one night thing, then sobeit. Also, I like to be on top at the beginning and then flipped over, so?"

LOL, that was not on the back of the event ticket in fine print!

"Your turn, Ron [snatches the less than big fat check], so?"

"I mean, Mrs. Conner, I mean, I'll be sure to keep my eyes peeled towards the staircase tonight. Also, how would you feel about serving my next card playing game, you know, while only wearing a skimpy little apron and little more, huh?"

"Hah! Well, just as long as you're the only who has sex with me first, Ron and just as long as all the other guys sign my back with a sharpie after they had their sloppy seconds from me, so?"

Well, that was a little much for my tender ears because...

"[Arm hooks Ron like she had done that before and whisks him away] I mean, Ron, my sister can be a bit much to handle sometimes, so, um, you looked like you were in need of a rescue, so?"

"Oh, I mean, I could use a breather, Mrs. Franklin, like maybe under the staircase of the upper floor steps, I mean, we seem to be heading that way anyways [whisk, whisk, whisk], so?"

"Under the stairs, Ron? What would we have to bicker argue about, hmm? Is this your first time at one of Mrs. Bentley's fund raisers, hmm?"

Well, SOB, right?

"Oh, I thought we might bicker back and forth about how I want to pop both of your boobs out the front of your evening gown tonight and I thought your argument back would be it's only one boob at a time since we're in a fairly public event, so?"

"Well, I mean, I'm not exactly in the busty club, Ron and it takes two itty-bitty-titties to equal one mega milker, but I like that you think outside of the box. And speaking of thinking outside of the box, how do you feel about me sitting on the toilet while I lean forward in my sitting position and engulf your abused boner, hmm? Because I saw all of that action all along the registration table and your poor balls must be a terrible shade of blue right about now, so?"

"Oh, in the upper floor Ladies room, Mrs. Franklin, where it's a bit more private, huh?"

"Oh, um, well, I like a man who side steps a juicy blow job in the lower floor Ladies room and goes straight for the pussy pounding, mm-hmm!"

LOL, that was printed in fine print on the back of the event ticket.

End Save the Sparrows 01