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I felt my phone buzz just once in my back pocket. It was probably my dumbass ex-boyfriend so I waited until I finished making my drink orders. It was a pretty slow Tuesday afternoon but Applebee’s had a strict rule against texting on duty. I snuck back into the walk-in cooler where the cameras couldn’t see.
I smiled as I read the text from my dad, aka Daddy-oh! on my phone.
You busy Sat? Lenore bailed on me for the charity run. Can you ride with me?
I checked my schedule on my phone and found it to be clear. But… I wasn’t sure I wanted to go.
Dad’s motorcycle club wasn’t some rough group like Hell’s Angels or Sons of Anarchy. Naw, the Smooth Operators just rode for fun on weekends. They didn’t have dues or meetings or membership requirements, you just showed up if you wanted to ride. Once every three months or so, they held a family ride with a picnic and games at the Great Park near downtown. I used to always go on those rides with Dad, had for years. But I got a little tired of that as I went through my late teens. And now at twenty-one, it had lost most of its appeal. I texted him back.
Is this one of the family rides?
I picked up some strawberry Daiquiri mix when his reply came back.
No hun it’s the TFT
Holy shit! I smiled again. The Tips For Terry rides collected donations for their friend Terry Martin who had since died from cancer. They now donated the money to the local hospital for cancer research, or to any member who needed help with medical bills.
Sounds fun dad i’m in, gotta jet I’m tending now
My eyes bulged out of my head on his last text, though.
One thing kiddo it’s a no bra ride okay?
I felt my face flush a little bit. The raunchy rumors and hearsay about the adult rides always intrigued me, and now I was going to attend one.
Lol no worries daddy-oh what time?
I checked out my look one final time as I heard Dad’s Harley pull into the parking lot below her. The sound, that Harley Davidson sound, blap-blap-blapping along at low idle, sent a little shiver through my body. I had my first orgasm on the back of his bike, a long time ago. How embarrassing is that, to have your first cum while holding on to your daddy? Afterward, I could barely get off the bike and Daddy kept asking me what was wrong. I didn’t know what to tell him but he suddenly got a knowing smile and gave me a big hug. Good times, right?
I sent him a quick text.
Just one sec!
I ran a brush through my fine, medium-length blonde hair. Then, I changed my mind for the last time and took off my Metallica t-shirt. I traded it for just a plain white tank top. Of course, it was rather short and tight and showed off my form really well. My nipples were relaxed, you could just barely make out that they were there.
Hurry up baby!
I couldn’t keep Dad waiting any longer. I put on a red flannel shirt, tied the shirttails at my belly button, slipped into my little cowboy boots, and bounded down the stairs.
I saw Daddy’s eyes widen as I bounced down the steps to the asphalt. I know he used to look at me sometimes, but I understood. Mom left shortly after I was born and he never seemed to be able to have a steady girlfriend after that. I was a handful, and probably a deterrent to his dating life, to some extent I’m sure. I used to tease him sometimes, a little, he would just shake his head and make faces at me.
He stayed on the bike as I hugged him.
“Daddy! Love the new headband!”
The skull and crossbones centered right on his forehead, the headband kept his somewhat long hair at bay.
“Thanks, baby, you look awesome! But, remember what I said? It’s—”
“I know! Here, look.” I pulled the flannel apart, showing him my tank top underneath. Of course, with all the bouncing and knowing he would be looking, my nipples had gone from sleepy to wide awake and were now plainly visible in the white shirt, confirming my no-bra compliance.
“Well alright, baby doll! Put on your helmet and let’s go!”
“Da-a-ad!” I whined. “Come on!” I hated helmets, girls don’t look good in helmet hair.
“Put it on. It’s okay if I get brain damage, but not you. Somebody needs to be the brains of this outfit!”
My hands went around Daddy’s waist, I think he still wore 34s, and I clasped my fingers together. We blasted out of the parking lot, down the tree-lined street through the cool morning air. I felt glad for my flannel, the day would warm up soon enough but I needed it now. I held Daddy tightly as we wove through the streets, the strong vibrations giving me that familiar tingle. This was another reason I hated this full-face helmet, I couldn’t smell Daddy. As a kid, I had an open face helmet and I would lay my cheek on his back, breathing in that old leather smell and catching lots of whiffs of him and his Stetson cologne. With this helmet, I could only catch an infrequent scent of his leathers, innovia escort but nothing else. Still, this familiar feeling of closeness was something we haven’t shared in a long time. I cherished it, and swore to myself that I would go on more rides with him.
We pulled into Frank’s coffee shop and rallied with the other troops.
“Y’all remember Sydney?” my dad called out. I recognized several people from years ago and I just kept getting “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown” and shit like that. I mean, I’m a human, right? We grow, get over it. But, they were trying to be nice. I just felt kind of funny with everyone checking me out and stuff. The sun rose higher in the sky and since the ride was now officially about to start, I stripped off my flannel and tied it around my waist.
Several hoots and hollers accompanied my unexpected but apparently too-shirt striptease. I blushed and shook my head. Like I said, I knew most of these people for many years and they had always been nothing but polite and friendly. But now that I was on the “adult” ride, they treated me like they would any other female rider, with a lot of sass and very little class. I kinda liked the attention. I checked out the other women, as usual. My outfit seemed pretty tame compared to most. Many had almost see-through shirts, some halters, and some just wore leather corsets.
After about 45 minutes we glided into our first stop, O’Malley’s in Riverside. We Smooth Operators found more of our friends already there under the old oaks lining the outdoor patio area. The beers began to flow and the classic rock band began their first set.
It had been at least five years, if not more, since I had been on a ride, and yet, I felt at home. The cold beer and the warm atmosphere of old friends reminded me of all the previous rides I enjoyed while growing up. Except, of course, now I could drink the cold beer!
Our group spread out over several long picnic tables with me sitting right next to Daddy. People always called him “Deef” which, he explained, was short for “de Facto Leader.” Like I said, this club was very loosely organized, but everyone recognized him as the leader since he set up the runs and handled the donation money.
I liked this crowd. These were my kind of peeps. They weren’t like those lawyers and dentists who ride once every six months or something and call themselves bikers. These guys were like construction guys, factory workers, blue-collar I guess you’d say. I dated a few college boys, and I’m done with them. They looked down on these guys, guys like my dad, as second class citizens. Those dentist assholes would be surprised that many of these guys were more successful than they were. It’s good to own a business, even if it is just a fencing company or a shop that cuts metal.
Daddy slipped me a couple of twenties and I went to the bar to get a couple of pitchers of beer. When I returned I found my seat on the bench occupied by the reigning wet t-shirt champ herself, Sandra Morales. She was always champ due to her enormous tits. And she knew how to work them, too. Today she had on a sleeveless t-shirt, the kind where the side seams were ripped intentionally down from under her arms to the hem so everyone could see inside her shirt. I mean, damn, there was a lot to see! And under other circumstances, I would even like looking at her, but she took my seat! Bitch!
I leaned over between them to seat the pitchers on the table. And, yeah, I kinda made sure to slosh them a bit so they splashed a little in her hair.
“Sorry!” I called out apologetically. Her mouth smiled but I could see that her eyes were pissed. Well, maybe she shoulda moved.
“Oh, am I in your seat, dear?” she laughed. “Maybe, while you’re up, you could get me a seven and seven? And get yourself a Shirley Temple, honey.”
She laughed as all the people nearby gave a low “wooo” as they recognized the jab for what it was: she was trying to put me in my place as one of the kids, not a grown-up.
It was too early for a fight, I figured. Plus, she would kick my ass anyway. So I just told her I was fine, thank you, and was just going to drink beer with my dad.
I stepped on the bench with one cowboy boot, and I intended to sit on Daddy’s lap, but I kinda slipped. Daddy caught me and somehow I ended up sitting on his lap… but I was now straddling him in a suggestive position, kinda crotch-to-crotch, face-to-face.
People laughed and catcalled at us as my face went red again. Daddy looked at me like I was just a goof, so I shrugged and put my arms around him. However, since I was sitting on his lap and therefore taller than him… my boobs kinda went in his face when I hugged him. He grabbed me around my waist so I couldn’t escape and he shook his head back and forth, his nose in my bare cleavage. It was all very innocent, just for fun. Okay, no it wasn’t. Christ, my pussy began pulsing.
And istanbul escort that’s when I found out what these rides were really called. TFT started out as Tips for Terry, but several years ago that changed into the current Tips for Tits.
The table started chanting “Tips Tips Tips!” Or maybe it was “Tits,” I couldn’t really tell. It was probably tits. Daddy set me back on his lap a bit and reached for his wallet. He pulled out a twenty and threw it on the table as a tremendous roar erupted from the crowd.
Daddy, being a great salesman at his window company, knew an opportunity when he saw one. He slipped his hands underneath my armpits and lifted me up and over… and slid me across onto Sandra’s lap. I was now straddling her.
She grabbed me hard and hugged me tight, rocking her body side to side so our tits mashed all together. I was so shocked but, damn, she felt so soft and squishy and nice. She pushed me back and grabbed me by my cheeks.
“Oh! You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that!” Then she kissed me! On the lips!
I froze, unsure what to do. I was pissed at her a minute ago… but her lips were so soft and she pulled me in again… her wet tongue pushed inside my mouth and I… I gave in. My arms fell around her neck and we made out for I don’t know how long.
We eventually parted, and only then did I notice the people clapping and laughing, and also throwing money on the table. My pussy ached, and I wondered if I had wet through my thin shorts.
“Welcome to Tips for Tits, love.” Daddy smiled at me.
We were tooling down the road… okay that’s what they call it, that isn’t how I talk… anyway we were Rockin Down the Highway to our next and last stop, Hell’s Kitchen on the Ortega Highway. I was pretty buzzed from our last stop at Cook’s Corner as everyone kept handing me beers. They also kept hugging me for tips. I made $115 for myself, which meant, like, a lot for charity. The deal was, anyone could hug one of us girls for $20. The hug shouldn’t go on for too long and could be stopped by the girl. Then, for $30 and explicit permission, you could grab the girls’ tits for thirty seconds. Big Agnes kept track on her clipboard because the girls got to keep five bucks for a hug or ten bucks for the titty-grab. The rest went into the charity box. I was just doing the hugs, which was more fun than I thought it would be! This was a raunchy bunch, and I was fitting in well.
I hugged Daddy’s back tightly, the constant throbbing of the big engine between our legs was doing a number on me. Before, I could handle it. But now, the beers had worn away my inhibitions and I just reveled in this state of near-orgasm. I wasn’t quite on the edge, but it was nearby. My nipples were in a constant state of panic as the rough edges of his leather patches rubbed them on every turn. I kept hoping for more turns. The big neon sign for Hell’s Kitchen approached, and Daddy downshifted us into the parking lot. My pussy was kind of a swamp so I headed to the ladies’ room.
I checked out the patio after I cleaned up Swamp Thing. The late afternoon sun poked through the dense scrub oaks giving the place a funky, peaceful kind of vibe. Lights were strung up and everyone felt totally relaxed by this point. They piped in some classic rock but it was at a mellow level. The titty rubbing and grabbing had pretty much stopped by this point, and people were having coffees and sodas with their hamburger and chicken dinners.
Daddy and I sat off in a corner with his best friends Rick and Vanessa. Like I said, I was buzzed and so I was only half involved in their conversation, and I didn’t know who they were talking about most of the time anyway. It got dark and people began heading back home.
But… not us? No, Rick came to the table with four shots of Jack, four beers, and a Red Bull. We downed the Jack immediately. Normally liquor goes to your stomach, but this shot seemed to go right to my head. I gasped a little, then leaned back against the wooden railing, stretching my arms above my head.
I heard a few clicks and some awed little “holy shits” from Daddy and Rick. Daddy was taking pictures of me. My shirt crawled up during my stretch exposing about a foot of my bare tummy. My nipples were in a constant state of arousal, so they were extremely visible. I guess I looked pretty good? The guys were liking it.
Rick took a big swig of his beer and set it down a bit too hard. “Alright, Paul,” he spoke to my dad. “We’ve all been very… respectful of Sydney, here. But, come on man! I mean look at her!”
“Rick, you don’t need my permission. She’s a grown-up, you can ask her.” Daddy looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. “My bet is, she will say yes.”
“Yes to what?” I asked innocently. I really had no idea what they were talking about.
Rick fished out his wallet and pulled out two twenty-dollar bills. He laid kadıköy escort them on the table in front of me. “It’s TFT, Sydney. I want a full minute, full feel. Whaddya say?”
I looked at Daddy, he just gave me a little nod while he smiled at me as if to say, go ahead.
“Come on, Rick. Isn’t it supposed to be sixty? I may be easy but I ain’t cheap.” They all laughed and chided Rick for being shady, and then the waitress brought our dinners. Fuck.
I drank my Red Bull and ate my chicken strips quietly, but I couldn’t resist teasing Rick through the meal. I dipped a long strip into the ranch dressing so that it covered the tip. Then I looked him in the eye as I slowly licked the white sauce from the food. As he and the other two gawked, I went down on the strip a couple of times before retreating to the top to take a normal bite.
“I’m getting more shots,” Rick announced as he left the table.
Vanessa asked me if she could just Venmo me a hundred bucks because she wanted a feel, also.
“Well,” I protested. “I thought it was for charity and all—”
“We’re off the clock now,” Daddy said.
We all did another shot after the paper plates were thrown out, then another after that just to be sure. The patio wrapped around the building and only two or three other tables could even see us. Most of our group was heading out or had already gone as it got darker.
The liquor warmed my insides and I could barely contain my anticipation, not so much for Rick but for Vanessa. She had this dark and dangerous look about her like she wanted to own my soul or something.
Rick came over onto our side and sat down on the bench beside me. “Ready?” I nodded.
He lifted my leg up and twisted me so I was facing him on the bench. His hands reached for my bare skin on the sides of my abs. His warm touch sent a shiver through me. His rough hands felt so, so strong and manly on my skin. He slid them up my sides slowly. I was both glad and a little sad that he stayed in the outside of my shirt.
When his hands felt the sides of my breasts, I gasped and then smiled at him to let him know I was still okay. He squeezed gently, and my eyes rolled back into my head as he brushed my nipples. His strong fingers and thumbs rolled my nipples through my shirt, causing an electrical storm between my tits and pussy. My breasts felt so warm and swollen, I think I moaned, I don’t exactly know…
“Time’s up, Rick.” Vanessa lightly pulled Rick away. I opened my eyes and found I was leaning against Daddy’s shoulder. I missed Rick’s hands on me.
“Stand up, sweetheart.” Vanessa backed me up against the wall next to our table. She unzipped her leather corset, exposing her medium-sized breasts to me. Without hesitation, she grabbed the hem of my tank top and pulled it up and over my breasts. Her hands came up to massage the sides of our breasts as she mashed them together.
“Do you like this, baby?” she whispered. “You like my body? Huh, baby?” I could only nod. She… completely overwhelmed me. If she wasn’t pressing me against the wall I would have slipped to the ground. Next thing I knew, her fingers were tickling my crotch through my jeans. I moaned, trying to keep it quiet but fortunately, the patio was almost empty. Her scent overwhelmed me. She smelled of leather and sweat, and hints of some flowery perfume from many hours ago. Her lips touched my neck and her fingers clenched on my shorts.
“Okay, okay. I’m next.” I was stunned to hear Daddy say that. I was so excited, ecstatic even. I bit my lip thinking of how I was holding him all day, smelling him, the bike’s vibrations, the memories of flirting with him… I was so turned on by him all day… oh my god I craved his touch—
“Hon, sit down, okay? I’ve gotta pay a little attention to Nessa here.”
I pulled my shirt down hurriedly, waves of shame and embarrassment washed over me. I… didn’t know which way to turn. Flustered, I finally found our bench and sat, squirming a little. I felt so stupid. Daddy wasn’t going to touch me, he would think it’s stupid and wrong. What was I even thinking?
I looked up, expecting to see him and Vanessa in a deep sexy clench of some kind. But, no. They were kind of fast slow-dancing to a song in the loudspeakers. Oh, of course, it was Born To Be Wild, the anthem of all bikers. Rick took my hand and we danced also, his hands around me in a kind of dirty dance. I wasn’t feeling so bad about Vanessa anymore, Daddy wasn’t choosing her over me, he was just dancing. Well, that’s what I hoped.
The song ended amidst some laughing and joking, and then Stand By Your Man came on.
Rick informed us, “This is their closing song. They’re trying to close up and get us out.” He took Vanessa’s hand and led her back to the table to collect their things.
I looked at Daddy, and he was just staring at me.
“What?” I asked, quietly. My face flushed and I looked down. I knew that look on his face.
He stepped up closer and pulled a hundred dollar bill out of his best pocket.
“It’s still Tips for Tits, and here’s my tip to you.”
He tucked the hundred into the back pocket of my shorts. Which, of course, meant that his hand was on my ass.
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