PAWS for the Cause

Had Norman Rockwell set out to paint a particular American town, it would have been Davidson, Maryland. Nestled along the South River, the leafy village evoked a simpler time. Davidson's homes, a mix of large but unimposing white clapboard and brick manses, often set back from its quiet tree lined streets by expansive well-manicured lawns, evidenced a quiet, kind and confident prosperity. Although its residents found themselves almost equidistant between Baltimore and Washington, D.C. -- each a mere 20 or so miles away and where many of Davidson's townsfolk worked -- the bucolic bedroom community was a mere five minute drive from Maryland's harbor front capital of Annapolis, and it was there that many of the good people of Davidson would while away their spring and summer hours. In fact, the spectacular environs of downtown Annapolis, home to the United States Naval Academy and -- long ago for a very short time -- the capital of the United States, hosted many a charitable event that relied on its coffers being filled by Davidson's affluent residents.

One of the most renowned of these, which drew participants and spectators alike from all around the Annapolis area, was Davidson's annual "PAWS for the Cause" held each year in early June. The daylong event, which raised money for local animal welfare, consisted of a host of activities including a pet washing station, doggy obstacle course, adoption fair, silent auction and -- at day's end -- a fashion parade where dog owners of all stripes and their pets would walk the "runway" together for the entertainment of the assembled throng. Like Davidson itself, and as Rockwell would have painted it, PAWS for the Cause was all-American fun -- neither showy nor brash.

The same could not be said for one of Davidson's most prominent, and arguably most attractive, residents -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell. Easing her very showy white 2014 Range Rover Sport into an available spot in downtown Annapolis -- brashly pulling in despite another driver -- Rachel Miras -- waiting patiently for the space to open -- the fetching alpha-mom prepared to drop off her three kids, their dalmatian Charlie and the Parnell family nanny, Alia, for the morning kick-off of this year's PAWS for the Cause. Stepping out into the June air, the spectacularly fit 43-year-old stunner caught the attention of every man around. As the sun glinted off the front of her mirrored aviator shades, those lucky enough to spy her were treated to the sight of her well-tanned and toned legs standing atop a pair of 4.5", yellow, peep-toe, wedge heels; her flawless ass hugged by a pair of white jean shorts that came down barely to mid-thigh -- appropriate but spectacular. A long yellow, black and white flowered scarf ran beneath the belt loops of her shorts and, up top, the fashionable Mrs. Parnell wore a very form fitting black cotton tank that emphasized nicely the swell of her ample 34C breasts as well as her tight midsection and fit arms. Danielle's shoulder length brown hair, that framed her beautiful, emerald-eyed face, blew gently in the warm summer breeze.

"Stay out of trouble you three -- and keep any eye on Charlie," the gorgeous mom directed her offspring, "and nothing inappropriate -- do you hear me."

"Yes mom," the three Parnell kids -- Will, 18, Anna 16 and Maria 14 -- echoed in chorus, "nothing inappropriate."

"Mind those attitudes," replied their mother not even half kidding, "or you'll find yourselves back home in no time." And then, to Alia, Danielle continued, "keep an eye on them will you, I'll be back later for the fashion parade -- this town won't know what hit them when they see what I've got planned."

"Of course, Mrs. Parnell," said Alia sweetly while thinking to herself that her boss certainly had no lack of ego.

As the ceaselessly sexy lawyer sashayed to the local Starbucks to grab her trademark cappuccino for the short ride home, the fantastic motion of her pert bottom became the instant focus of soccer dads, weekend warriors and mailmen alike -- and Danielle Parnell loved it. To her, the thrill of teasing men was matched by very few things. Among them was the joy she felt when, upon "catching" an unsuspecting man spying her beauty, she publicly and loudly took him to task with a, "what would your wife think of the way you're looking at me Mr. Smith," or a "how dare you, Mr. Jones." The delight the haughty uber-MILF got from calling out men, however, was dwarfed by the elation she derived from the impact their emasculation had on the chastened men's wives and girlfriends because, at the top of Danielle Parnell's list of favorite things, was the love she had for herself. In her mind, other women existed merely to confirm her own superiority -- in her presence the universe of dowdy soccer moms, overweight Zumba class attendees and stay-at-home haus fraus simply ceased to exist -- and they knew it -- losers.

Smiling as she thought about the lustful looks directed at her, Danielle pulled open the door to the world's most popular coffee establishment and, walking in, spied a collection of the very women she despised. Sitting at a small table sipping on their caffeine laden libations were Katherine Wray, Rachel Miras and Nicole Silver. As she raised her expensive sunglasses from the slope of her perfect nose to the top of her windblown hair, Mrs. Parnell flashed her best fake smile at her three "lesser" neighbors.

"Why good morning, Danielle," enthused the waifish Katherine Wray, "are you excited for the big day?"

The 5' 8" strawberry-blonde Mrs. Wray, an avid runner and Nashville native, whose own legs were nothing to sneeze at, offended Danielle least of the three women. In fact, the ever-confident Mrs. Parnell suspected the athletic Mrs. Wray's marriage was a mere beard and that the closeted bi-sexual Katherine harbored a secret crush on her.

"Not as excited as you are to see me I'm sure," Danielle offered condescendingly. As the equally titillated and humiliated Mrs. Wray blushed, the self-confident Mrs. Parnell silently added to herself with a smile, "and you can look all you want dear, but I don't swing that way and, if I did, you'd never make the cut."

With the prospect of lording over these "nobodies" coursing through her icy veins, the preening diva turned to Rachel Miras, "will you be accompanying that bull dog of yours again in the fashion show Rachel? It's just adorable how much you favor one other -- like mother and son."

The short, squat Mrs. Miras who was working harder than ever to lose some weight, seethed inwardly at the sharp barb but -- intimidated to her core by Danielle -- outwardly simply smiled stupidly. Mrs. Parnell on the other hand reveled in the cowed woman's discomfort delighting in the fact that within 10 minutes not only had she taken Rachel's parking spot but left her looking the fool.

Finally, as the handsome young male barista handed the haughty lawyer her cappuccino -- "on the house" -- Mrs. Parnell set her sights on the red-headed Nicole Silver who, like Danielle, was a lawyer in Washington, D.C.

"Will your son and that troublesome mutt of yours be performing for us again this year Nicole," Danielle provoked Mrs. Silver, referring to an unfortunate incident the year before when Louie -- the Silver family's 100 pound standard poodle -- caught wind of a squirrel as Nicole's young son Julian was walking him down the doggy fashion show runway. The poor boy, who though eighteen years old at the time still looked all of about twelve, was dragged off his feet, through a puddle of mud and out of his khaki shorts before he finally gave up the ghost and let go of the leash. Danielle of course, who had a front row seat to the unfortunate episode, was delighted by the "little nerd's" undoing and in a voice she thought to be sotto voce was overheard by those around her to comment to no one in particular "nice 'manties' he's wearing -- do you think he shares those with his mom?"

Both enraged and mortified by the mention of poor Jules' former misfortune, and with her voice controlled but strained, the 5'8", big-boned but by no means fat, Norwegian beauty responded, "actually Danielle, I'll be escorting Louie in tonight's charity fashion parade."

"What a relief," Danielle falsely empathized, "with someone your size on the leash any further secrets of your family's underpants -- thank God -- will likely remain unknown."

Nicole was rendered speechless and Danielle loved it. Somehow putting the Silver woman in her place provided Mrs. Parnell her greatest rush. Who does that Silver think she is anyway, she laughed to herself. The half-wit probably got her law degree through the mail . . . and the way she's always flaunting that chest of hers -- classless. A woman like that simply needs to be told who's boss -- smiled the glamorous alpha mom -- and now she knows -- it's me.

Feeling on top of the world, the sexy Mrs. Danielle Parnell pushed open the coffee house door and, as every male neck snapped to watch, strutted to her car with a broad smile on her beautiful face and a little extra sway in her shapely hips.

"Can you believe that woman," raged Nicole Silver at her coffee mates. "She strolls in here with her high heels and tight little shorts and proceeds to make fools of us while we do nothing about it. Why what I wouldn't give to take that little tease down a peg or two."

"You," countered the equally angry Rachel Miras, "she stole my parking spot . . . and told me I look like my dog. I don't . . . do I?"

"Of course you don't you ninny," scolded the still apoplectic Mrs. Silver. "Don't you see, that's what she wants . . . to undermine our confidence. She casually puts us down . . . you look like your dog . . . I'm too fat and my poor son is a panty-waisted nerd . . . Katherine over there is a lesbian . . . and then while we sit here -- stunned and humiliated -- she smiles, flips her hair and struts away."

"She's the one who needs to have that giant ego of hers undermined -- to be humiliated," continued Nicole.

Trying to break the tension, and lustfully imagining Mrs. Parnell's undoing, the aroused Mrs. Wray offered with a big smile, "boy would I like to see that . . . mmmm."

"Me too," laughed Mrs. Miras also picturing in her head a scenario where the ordinarily unflappable Mrs. Parnell was the one on the receiving end for once, "but let's just forget about it and enjoy the day."

"Forget about it," Nicole Silver practically shouted, "what do you mean forget about it? We must do something . . ."

"Let it go Nicole," advised Katherine Wray in her soft Southern accent, "it's really nothing."

"Fine, if the two of you want to be losers -- have at it" blustered Nicole, "I'm taking a stand. Two can play at her game you know."

And then, getting up hastily to abandon her two friends, and without taking a moment to measure her words, Mrs. Nicole Silver arrogantly proclaimed, "once the men of this town catch a glimpse of me on the runway tonight they won't have a second thought for Little Miss Perfect."

As the statuesque redhead stormed off, the Starbucks door slamming behind her, Rachel Miras and Katherine Wray burst into laughter.

"She's almost as bad as the other one," Rachel joked.

"No kidding," added Katherine Wray smiling, "the two of them deserve each other."

Still giddy from the serving of humble pie she had heaped upon her pathetic neighbors earlier in the day, and having since then worked-out at her very exclusive gym to hone her spectacular body and stopped by an equally upscale spa for a massage, manicure, pedicure and haircut, the sultry Mrs. Parnell eased her high-end SUV down the long driveway to the Parnell family home to begin getting ready for the PAWS for the Cause fashion parade.

Although Danielle had promised her youngest daughter, the 14-year-old Maria, that she could walk the runway tonight with the family dalmatian Charlie -- Mrs. Parnell still planned on looking her best.

"After all," she laughed to herself, "I owe the men of Davidson something hot to fantasize about when they make love to their hum drum wives."

"Of course," she smiled inwardly, looking at her nude reflection upon stepping from the tub in her exclusive marble bathroom, "that fantasy is the closest any of those losers will ever get to actually seeing this body."

Once the stunning solicitor had toweled off, slipped on her short silk robe and expertly made up her beautiful face -- taking care to apply a fire engine red gloss to her luscious lips -- she began to dress for the event. Although she and her three children would all be wearing some version of white outfits with black spots to show family unity for their over-sized dalmatian's big night -- Danielle had planned something special to wear beneath her otherwise innocent frock. Opening the small brown box on her dressing table -- that had arrived from a novelty lingerie shop only the day before -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell pulled out the tiniest of thongs. The translucent white lace triangle of fabric in front -- bedecked with black dalmatian spots -- was joined to the tiniest of similarly styled lace triangles behind by a bright red spaghetti thin waistband. But the coup de grace of the sexy panty was the word embroidered in silver glitter across its tiny front panel -- Cruella. As the suburban sexpot pulled the micro garment on over her perfect hips she chuckled to herself, "one look at this body and old Walt would melt right out of cryonic suspension."

After fastening the matching dalmatian push-up bra over her ample 34C breasts, Mrs. Parnell stepped into a pair of patent leather 5" peep-toe pumps each with a high black heel in support of a white shoe with black spots. Looking into the mirror the uber-MILF put her hands on her hips, turned to the side and, bending at the knees, pushed her fabulous ass out behind her. Lustfully admiring her fantastic reflection, and in her sexiest voice, the hot little lawyer pouted, "bark like a dog baby!!! Who's a bad girl? Who's a bad girl!! I am -- that's who."

Blowing a kiss to herself as she stood up, the devilish diva pulled on a white mini-skirt, bedecked with black dalmatian spots, that flared out from her incredibly toned waist and came down to just below mid-thigh. On top, the gorgeous attorney wore a tight black cotton ribbed tank top that showed off her incredibly fit arms as well as her firm, pert breasts. The black and white pearl choker she wore around her supple neck complemented the bracelets she wore on each wrist. To finish the look, Mrs. Parnell tied back her luxurious brown mane with a dalmatian spotted white silk scarf. Grabbing her oversize white leather Versace tote as she headed for the door, Danielle caught her reflection in the large hallway mirror in the Parnell foyer. Satisfied as always with her beauty and sex appeal, and reveling in the impact she'd soon have on the feckless men of Davidson -- and their loser wives -- the stunning alpha mom cooed lustfully at her reflection, "you're the hottest bitch in town, baby."

And with that, Mrs. Parnell strutted out her front door for the short drive into Annapolis.

While her boss was primping at home, Alia, the Parnell family nanny, was busy making sure Will, Anna and Maria got changed into their dalmatian themed outfits and that Charlie got himself a good cleaning at the pet washing station. The 22-year-old Ph.D. candidate, who had been watching the Parnell children now for almost four years, genuinely loved her three charges. The future professor was also quite fond of her high-powered boss -- Mrs. Danielle Parnell, Esquire -- who she knew cared for her kids if in her own unique way.

That said, on days like these, where their forceful mom pushed her offspring to dress in matching outfits, Alia certainly sympathized with their resistance and, having agreeably donned her own dalmatian themed ensemble to watch Charlie and Maria walk in the upcoming fashion parade, shared their embarrassment. All in all though, it was a small price to pay for an otherwise great job and, as Will, Anna and Maria emerged from the public restrooms nearest the PAWS for the Cause runway, the three of them and Alia, with Charlie in tow, waived at the family SUV pulling up nearby.

As the glamorous Mrs. Parnell stepped from the Range Rover's driver side door to greet her waiting family, every man within view craned his neck to take notice. Outfitted in her 5" polka dotted heels, flared white mini skirt with black spots that mimicked her nearby dalmatian and tight black tank-top, the suburban goddess was a fantasy-come-alive -- and she knew it. Turning around to see her kids and Alia, the gorgeous Danielle coolly but dismissively eyed her admirers deeming them completely unworthy of the object of their desire -- namely, herself -- but at the same time relishing the attention she knew they couldn't resist giving her -- the losers. With that, the now united Parnell clan, along with Charlie and Alia, headed for their seats.

In order to host the PAWS for the Cause fashion parade, the boardwalk that ran in from the foot of Annapolis harbor to the nearby, tree-lined parking lot had been transformed into a makeshift runway. A large white tent, complete with a curtain from where the evening's "models" would make their entrance covered the intersection between the boardwalk and the brick lined sidewalk that ran along the water's edge. On either side of the runway, perched upon the large green grass field that otherwise separated the parking lot from the water, were hundreds of white wooden folding chairs from where the families, friends, casual observers and donors of the annual pet parade would take in the evening's show.

As she led her small brood to their reserved seats along the boardwalk's edge, Mrs. Danielle Parnell, with a little extra sway in her hips, drank in the stares of the good men of Annapolis and Davidson, each of whom -- to her delight if not her surprise -- couldn't fail to notice the diminutive beauty's raw sex appeal. What's more, Danielle reveled in the consternation that the men's wives and girlfriends, on the one hand, directed at said men for ignoring them and on the other, focused on Danielle -- and her regal, incomparable beauty -- for stealing their men's attention.

"Let's face it ladies," she thought to herself in complete satisfaction, "they all want to see me . . . and you all want to be me."

Once the contented diva and her kids reached their seats, Danielle dispatched Alia to accompany Maria and what seemed a particularly excitable Charlie backstage for the show.

Meanwhile, from behind the curtained tent, Rachel Miras and Katherine Wray spotted the narcissistic Mrs. Parnell taking her seat for the show.

"Well it looks like 'Miss Look at Me' has finally arrived," quipped Rachel, still smarting from being compared to her bulldog Max.

"It's hard to believe she's going to let her daughter walk with their dog. I mean seriously, would you look at the outfit that woman is in," the annoyed Mrs. Miras continued, "those heels are half as tall as she is. And that dalmatian mini-skirt -- she sure makes a convincing Cruella De Vil." Little did Mrs. Miras know how right she was -- and how soon her hunch would be confirmed.

"She really is sexy though," Mrs. Wray uttered with bated breath just out of the earshot of her friend.

"What did you say," queried Rachel.

"Ah . . . nothing . . . have you seen Nicole," answered Katherine, suppressing her desire for Mrs. Parnell but also genuinely curious, after Mrs. Silver's earlier temper tantrum, whether the stunning redhead would even make an appearance.

"I haven't, said Rachel glancing down at her watch, "and you should head out there and get a seat."

As Katherine walked out to the audience Rachel shouted, "wish us luck," while patting her bulldog Max on the head."