Tits and Tiramisu

Saturday I catered a spa day affair for a woman of high rank in the military. It seems every year she hosts a group of her very best friends---ranging from grade school to college friends---for a day of pampering at the Hershey Hotel Spa. Afterward they drink great wine and have dinner in her home.

For a bit of a change this year, I was asked to make small plates for the ladies. I made a variety of dishes from red beet and goat cheese salad to chocolate tiramisu.

The conversations ranged from where they would vacation for their 40th birthdays to nanny care. One woman mentioned her son and so I asked if he was her only child.

"No, we are having another one." She didn't look pregnant.
"My partner is carrying our second child. A boy!" she beamed. "And they are both from the same donor so they'll have that biological connection".

Wow. The woman she was referring to had just left the room. Twenty something and very pregnant.

Now let me say these were super women. Beautiful, hair and make up perfect beautiful, sporting large rocks on their well manicured fingers with expensive imported steel in the driveway women.

By far the most impressive group of over-achievers I have had the privilege to meet. Just being in their presence added a few points to my IQ(127 by the way but I'll bet I was the lowest in the room).
From the list...engineer, microbiologist, ob-gyn, patent attorney, a few ph d's ... with the addition of male sperm they could start their own planet.

So as the night went on conversation shifted with the blood alcohol level. I hear a "I was checking out the cleavage on the bartender..."

And then I got it!!...Slow, huh? Yes all that cock I had been getting was shifting blood flow from my brain.

"We're having a clevage contest. Do you want to get in on it?" I was asked while serving dessert.
"Sure."
"You have to vote..." A woman approached me with a digital camera, flipping through some photos.
"I don't want to vote. I want to participate." I said.
Some bad ass whooping cat calls from the dining area.
I slipped my apron strap over my head and pulled down my shirt revealing my newly shaped cleavage in one of the HOT bras I bought from VS last week.
Snap.
Louder cat calls.

It seems I won. Can't wait to see my tits on facebook.
Note to self: Maybe I should get a KISS THE COOK apron for such an occasion.