"And that's why I think I'd make an excellent town councilman," I finished, giving a warm and friendly smile to Mister Butterman, father of three, as he ogled my tits in my own backyard.
I blushed and pulled my summer tube dress with the elastic top just a little higher, to hide a bit more of my bountiful cleavage. I normally stuck to much more conservative outfits, especially with what I was carrying up top; but it was a Fourth of July picnic, in the 85-degree Florida sun, at my own house- wasn't I allowed to wear normal clothes at least some of the time?!
Most of the women at our backyard BBQ were showing as much or more skin than me, and there were even barely-legal teenaged girls running around our pool in barely-legal thong bikinis. And Butterman decides to ogle
my
tits instead?
On second thought, I'd rather have our portly middle-aged neighbor checking out my body than my daughter Skyler's, who had decided to wear one of her smallest, shiniest bikinis today, probably just to needle me. So I resisted the urge to snap my fingers at this potential voter and bark "Hey! Eyes up here, buddy!"
"Yes, well, I can see that you're quite
qualified
for the position," he said, still lingering on the top half of my D cups even though I had pulled my neckline up. I gave it another tug- it was practially at my armpits now, and he finally pulled his eyes up to mine. "But you know, old Joe Risso's held that seat for a
mighty
long time."
Finally. "Well, that's also why I think it's time for a change," I said, holding out a campaign flyer. "You can see, I've got a well-laid out economic plan to revitalize most of downtown Sandy Brook..."
Holding my arms out to hand him the flyer made my dress start to slip down into normal position again and Butterman's eyes started drifting lower as I talked. And the flyer between us just made it worse, giving him a legitimate reason to look right down at my firm, tan, slowly-exposing cleavage.
"Hmmm, yes," he said, pretending to read. "And how are you on... family values?"
I used the stack of the flyers in my other hand to cover my cleavage in a not-to-subtle hint. "Firm."
He reluctantly looked me in the eyes again, and I shoved the flyer at him again.
"All I ask is that you consider me on election day in November."
He stiffly took it. "I will. Consider you. Quite a bit."
Since pulling my tube dress higher to cover more cleavage had exposed more of my legs, Mr. Butterman's eyes flitted down to take one last mental picture of what tanned, toned skin he could before turning away to eat more of my hand-made hors d'oeuvres and drink more of my expensive imported beer.
I sighed and went back to working the crowd.
It shouldn't be this hard, trying to get people who had lived next door to you for twenty years to choose you over a corrupt fossil who took bribes from half the state of Florida. But it somehow it still was. I spotted Bethany Silver walking through the crowd carrying a tray of desserts, but knew it wasn't worth wasting a flyer on her.
"Oh, Bethany, thank you so much for bringing your lemon squares!" I said, as she passed. "They're always such a hit- Mrs. Jonas was just telling me she just
loved
them at the last church social!"
"Why thank you," Bethany said, smiling right back at me. "And I even brought some
low-fat
ones, dearie, just for you."
I wanted to rip that blond twig's face off.
Former pilates instructor and current trophy wife Bethany Silver did have amazing six-pack abs and an incredibly tight, toned butt to die for, which I knew about, because she was never shy about walking around totally nude in the locker room of our country club. It was an impressively tight body for a woman our age; she looked as fit as Skyler from some angles. But she was maybe fifteen pounds lighter than me and acted like it was a hundred.
But I bit my tongue, because as Bethany Silver voted, so voted every under-40 woman in the entire Sandy Brook Country Club, and that was my core constiuency.
"Why I so appreciate that, Bethany. I'll let
all
the folks know."
"Do."
She turned up her surgically-perfected button nose at me and walked off with a smirk, totally unconcerned about the husbands' necks she was snapping as she strutted past a group of men in a tube dress easily twice as revealing as mine. You could practically see the outline of her nipples and the lower curves of her ass through it, and she didn't seem to care about that one bit!
I sighed again.
My husband Jake sidled up to me from the opposite direction, holding a tray of freshly grilled burgers and hot dogs before him. "How's it going?"
I saw Mr. Butterman staring at my tits again from across the lawn and sighed.
"I feel like I need a shower."
And now Bethany was sitting on our outdoor table like it was a lounge piano, legs crossed and telling a 'joke' to five enraptured husbands with her little mini-skirt showing off thighs that I would never have even with a whole pharmacy of weight loss pills.
"And a diet."
"If you try to diet again, I'll start slipping high-fructose corn syrup into your veggie smoothies," my husband laughed, then gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Because I love your body
exactly
the way it is."
"Thanks dear."
He waggled his eyebrows. "And on that shower..." He leaned closer. "Wait thirty more minutes for this party to be over and I'll get in there with you. To help wash your back. And your front. And all of this perfect round booty..."
I saw his free hand reaching back to give me a hard spank on the ass.
"Don't you dare!" I hissed, spinning away. "We're in public!"
And all the ladies from my church were here!
And I was running for town councilwoman!
"Fine. That killer ass goes unspanked for now," he said, giving me just another chaste kiss on my cheek instead. "But get ready to get
twice
as many over my knee tonight..." He leaned in close again, then whispered. "...my little porn-star."
"Jake!" I hissed, starting to blush again. "Someone will hear!"
"They'd never even believe it if they did," he laughed, kissing me again before strutting away, to offer some burgers to Mr. Butterman and the group of drooling husbands around Bethany Silver.
***
Instead of thirty minutes Jake predicted, it actually took another two hours before we had sent everyone home and cleaned up the disaster resulting from throwing an open-bar cookout for our block in the small town of Sandy Brook, Florida, population 10,500. I was nearly exhausted as I stepped into our bedroom and finally slipped out of my high heels with relief.
"Well, I think that went great," Jake laughed, closing our bedroom door and loosening his collar. "Everyone loved you!"
"I overheard Bethany asking Skyler if she thought her 'lower middle class' upbringing gave her more 'character', the bitch," I groused, pulling my tube dress over my head and searching for its hanager. "And Butterman's eyes were on my tits the entire afternoon! Every time I bent over to offer kids some cupcakes, he was there, trying to catch a peek!"
"That's because you have the best cupcakes in town, honey," my husband chuckled, suddenly grabbing me from behind and shoving his hands right under the cups of my strapless bra.
"JAKE!" I laughed, feeling his strong hands squeeze my bare breasts, his palms rubbing my sensitive nipples just how I liked. "I have to hang this dress up or it will wrinkle!"
"If I was Mr. Butterman and I lived next to a hot little housewife with tits like these," Jake growled into my ear, ignoring my squirms. He undid my bra faster than I thought possible and flung it across the room, then returned to exciting my breasts, "I'd eye-fuck you all day in that dress too."
