My day was far too hectic to bother with pesky trifles such as panties or a bra. Of course, the sweltering heat necessitated light and airy clothing. A light, cotton, sleeveless top and a wispy, summery, knee-length skirt were my clothes of choice. Singing along to the radio, I sped to a nearby town, avoiding the city. There was a store there that catered to party supplies. I needed to decorate the yard, and it was imperative that I had all the proper props in place.
I required brightly-colored paper lanterns, some of those tiki torches, an outdoor floral arrangement that reflected the quiet solitude and artistry of our landscaping, a tablecloth, and one of those galvanized wash tubs to hold the drinks and ice was an absolute must. That meant stopping at the party outlet, a trip to the hardware store, and then a trip to the liquor store. I was in a slight hurry since the landscapers were due around noon. I’d rather be caught dead, wearing pants, than shame my husband by not having our backyard barbecue be the envy of the neighborhood.
I lucked out, discovering some ignored, battery-operated strings of lanterns at the first store. I also discovered that my skirt was short enough to flash those who were attentive enough to look. By spreading my legs just a bit and deeply bending, about half of my behind was exposed to the world.
That discovery really cut into my schedule as I discovered the joys of casual flashing. Unlike my last foray to the mall, where the first time was purely accidental, and the ensuing flashes were because my husband was getting all hot and bothered by it, I just casually exhibited myself. Casually flashing means that you realize that you’re showing your dripping pussy when you bend or squat, but you don’t care.
At the party outlet, I did just that. I was squatting in the aisle to look at a floor display when a handsome man turned into the aisle, facing me. I could have stopped bending at my knees and spreading my thighs, but that would have resulted in me clumsily trying to maintain my balance. I knew that he’d be able to see straight up my skirt and catch a glimpse of the promised land, but I didn’t care. He was most appreciative.
While I ignored his heat-vision-equipped eyes boring into my saturated cunt, the thrilling chill that ran through my body nearly made me lose my balance, anyway. Externally, I paid him no heed, as if I were oblivious that my wet snatch was being ogled. Inside, my entire body erupted in volcanic heat. It turned me on so much that I compounded my casual exhibitionism at the liquor store.
Rather than flash my ass or pussy again, I took full advantage of the fact that I was braless and wearing a light, thin top. As soon as I opened the cooler door and felt that blast of chilling, arctic air, my nipples swelled and hardened, sticking out, prominently. They grew so taut and firm that my areolas puffed up. Suddenly, all three of the store clerks were very attentive and gave me excellent customer service.
“Let me grab that for you, ma’am.”
“Would you like me to carry all of this out to your car for you?”
Because I got into the naughty groove of flashing my charms, I was running almost forty-five minutes behind schedule. I drove home like I was vying for the pole position at Le Mans, weaving in and out of traffic as if I’d just invented car slalom. I arrived in the nick of time and had just enough time to hurriedly run into the house, then back to my car, multiple times, and worked up a sweat that plastered my clothes to my skin in my mad rush to get all the food and sundries inside. On the final trip to my car, the landscapers arrived.
They drove up in a double-cab pickup truck, the bed filled with tools and mulch. Three young men, college-age by the looks of them, piled out of the truck, joking and laughing among themselves. Normally, I don’t take note of how attractive or desirable other men are, but my libido had skyrocketed over the past few weeks and was flying in the stratosphere from my recent, casual flashing. Each of them was sexy and arousing in their own way.
One was lean, with wiry muscles and dark skin that hinted at a Hispanic descent, and the veins in his arms could readily be seen. Oddly, he had mossy-green eyes that were easy to stare into. He had an aura of quiet, masculine strength about him that further moistened my already-slick pussy. When he caught my gaze and smiled, my cunt tingled with needy delight.
The second one looked like a stereotypical, beefcake surfer boy. His unruly, blond hair and sun-kissed skin gave his entire, muscular body a look of youthful vitality that contrasted the sweetness of his boyish, innocent face. The third man had dark brown hair, intentionally scraggly, and tribal tattoos covered his arms. He had a look of sexual danger about him that was magnetically attractive on a primal level.
All three of them wore white t-shirts depicting the logo of the company, Top Cuts, and they’d ripped the sleeves off. Beige cargo shorts covered their lower portions. A proper wife doesn’t stare and drool; that’s not polite. I was quite rude.
It was then that I realized two things. Firstly, I was not only inappropriately attired to receive three young, handsome men into my home, especially since my perspiring state had caused my thin top to edge toward translucency. Second, it seems that strong, sexy men have a thing for housewives’ nipples. It was too late to cover my chest in a vain attempt at modesty, so I ignored the outlines of hard nubs showing through my shirt, as well as their pussy-wetting, lusty stares.
“Miss,” He-Man-looking surfer dude said. “I’m Andy from Top Cuts. We’re here for your rush job.”
“Missus,” I corrected with a pleasant smile. "Yes. We’re entertaining guests out back, tonight, and the yard is a complete disaster. Follow me, and I’ll show you what I need.”
I set off toward the backyard, opening the gate. I showed them the area. As I turned, I thought I saw the inked-up one checking out my ass. I blushed a little, the hot, tingling sensation in my nether regions spreading throughout my entire body.
“If this is a disaster, I’d like to see this when you think it’s perfect. Who does your regular work?”
“Bobby across the street mows for me, but I did all the flower beds and such. But, it’s all wrong. I can’t entertain with it like this!” I pointed at the landscaping beside the garage. “The flower beds need two inches of mulch, not one-and-a-half. The stepping stones leading to the hot tub need to be edged, and there are at least half a dozen weed sprouts between the gladiolas.”
“That won’t take long,” the Hispanic one said. “Anything else that needs to be done?”
Having monitored more than a few of Allison’s shows as well as those of other cam girls—strictly for marketing research purposes—my first thought was to say, “Yes, me. I need you to do me right now.” However, I kept my mouth shut, but my mind had already begun spinning into fantasy land. I pulled out the to-do list and handed it to Andy, hoping that my lecherous glance at his impressive bulge wasn’t obvious.
“The sundial is fourteen inches too far to the west? Ma’am, I bow to your attention to detail.” He waved his coworkers over. “Look at this! The patio table must face directly east-to-west, longways, so the guests don’t have the setting sun in their eyes.”
“Call me Mary Anne. You boys get started, and I’ll make you some refreshments. Do you prefer hand-squeezed lemonade or sun-steeped iced tea? Sandwiches?”
Speechless, they looked at me, their mouths agape. “Both, then,” I smiled, turning on my heel and deliberately exaggerating the sway of my hips with each step. I could feel the thin material of my skirt swishing back and forth as I walked. Satisfyingly, the burning sensation of half a dozen eyes focused on my ass blazed hotter than the midday heat.
The kitchen window overlooked the backyard, so I had an excellent vantage point while I did my hostess duties and made sure the workers had refreshments. Not only is treating others well and respectfully a lost but still necessary practice in society, but it also tends to make those working on your behalf much more eager to not only do a good job but to go above and beyond.
Two pitchers, one filled with brown sweetness and the other a glistening sun-like yellow, and plenty of plastic tumbler cups populated my every day serving tray. I expertly balanced it against my chest, feeling the coldness of the beverages pressing against my breasts, and carried it all outside. I knew it would repeat my actions in the liquor store. This time, it was not casual; it was intentional.
“You all look so hot,” I blurted out, maybe putting too much stress on the last word. “Have some cool drinks, so you don’t get dehydrated.” I gently set the tray on the patio table, a long, ornate one of delicately curled metal with a glass top. Of course, the condensation from the cold pitchers saturated my top even further, taking it past translucent and into transparency.
Smiling coyly, I basked in their horny attention, thinking that Ginger would love to see their reactions. “I’ll go make some sandwiches for you nice, young men.” As I strutted away, I could hear their hushed banter. That hot, tingling sensation coursing through my body and centered on my clit grew into a full-body massage of sexy vibrations. Every inch of my flesh was humming like a horny tuning fork.
I began preparing some cold-cut sandwiches, stacking fresh meats into triple-decker "Dagwoods," then quartering them, holding the towering portions together with large toothpicks with little, plastic flags on the ends. I took my time, watching the landscapers go about their business. They bent, flexed, stretched, and toiled away so enticingly that my torrid mind envisioned me going out there, totally naked, and ordering all of them to plug my aching holes with their hard cocks.
The opened jars of condiments sat forgotten as I watched the trio of studs clean up and manicure my backyard. Blondie’s impressive biceps bulged as he moved the sundial, his spankable ass sticking up as he knelt on all fours, measuring the distance. My dreamy-eyed conquistador set about laying the required mulch as my pussy-drenching bad-boy carted it in. While I watched them, my hand traveled under my skirt, parting the wet, velvety folds of my tingling cunt.