Harley Davidson Lawyer

Chapter 5: A Daisy Duke Dance Contest

I was happier than I'd ever been after Matt told me that I was his girlfriend. I was happier than the day I learned that I had gotten a perfect score on my SATs. Hell, I was even happier than the day I embarrassed the Los Angelos District Attorney in court.

Maybe, I got a little carried away and had one too many Margaritas, but I was in love and felt safe with Matt beside me. Even better, he had offered me a well-compensated position as the Los Angeles Raptors Motorcycle Club's corporate attorney. All I had to do was go through a little initiation ceremony tomorrow. Tonight, I was going to celebrate.

I was feeling no pain when Andy, the club owner, called the Daisy Duke finalists onto the stage. I joined the voluptuous redhead, the plump blond girl with massive breasts and a tall brunette. At 5' 1" tall and 108 pounds dripping wet, I looked like a brown midget next to my pale competitors.

After we were introduced again, he had us choose a popsicle stick with a number on it from his hand. I got to dance third. The redhead was fourth, which bothered me because she was the best of my competitors.

The DJ chose a song for us by Buckcherry called 'Crazy Bitch.' The lyrics left nothing to the imagination.

You're a crazy bitch

But you fuck so good.

The plump blond danced first. After a minute, she untied the knot holding her top together but used her hands to keep the loose shirt from exposing too much of her massive breasts. Even sitting at our table next to the runway, I only glimpsed her nipples once for the briefest instance. There were several unanswered catcalls from the audience for her to take it off. She left everyone unhappy.

The tall brunette danced next. After a minute of pleading from the crowd for her to take something off, she whipped off her flannel shirt and tossed it into the audience. Her breasts were small but pert with hard pointy nipples. The audience began screaming for her to remove her Daisy Dukes. She played with the zipper on her shorts to tease the crowd, but when the song ended, they were left disappointed again. Her final move was a simple fairy spin around the pole.

Bertha leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Remove your top early. Cup your breasts and offer them to the crowd. Copy Michael Jackson's crotch-grab, but massage your pussy firmly."

As I walked up onto the stage, I thought about Bertha's comment about men fantasizing about tying women up.

I decided to put on a bit of performance art, building on the perception that everyone thinks I look like a teenage girl. I pretended that I was a young college girl forced to dance by an older man who had taken me captive. I began my routine with one hand across my threadbare muscle shirt that barely concealed my plump breasts that were too large for my diminutive frame. My other hand was splayed over the crotch of my Daisy Dukes as if I was attempting to hide my scantily clad body.

I screamed over the music, "Please, mister, I'm just a poor innocent little girl. Please, let me go."

I ran across the stage, looking over my shoulder as if pursued by a white slaver. I grabbed the pole with one hand as my body began to shake. The trembling moved to my ass, and I twerked for the crowd.

I turned my back to the pole. My hands cupped my breasts, and I screamed, "Please don't touch my body. Please don't take my shirt."

I pulled my muscle shirt over my head and clutched the sweaty top in both hands. I wrapped the cotton top around the pole to make it look like I was tied to it with my hands above my head. My bare breasts danced around as I pretended to struggle against my bonds. My only remaining clothing was my ragged Daisy Dukes and my high-heel platform wedges.

I screamed again, "Please, mister, please let me go. Please don't touch my body."

I held onto the pole over my head and twisted my body hard as I tried to break my imaginary bonds. My plump sweaty breasts swayed and bounced around to the delight of the screaming crowd.

"Please, mister, what are you doing? Please, you're poking me with your nasty thing."

I twisted around to face the audience with the pole in front of me. The crowd went wild when I began rubbing the crotch of my Daisy Dukes against the hard steel. What remained of my wet spandex jeans stuck to the metal. Without any panties to protect my sex, the bunched fabric rubbed directly on my hard clit, and I became so aroused my thighs became wet with my nectar.

My scream was real. "Oh God, mister, you're ripping my little pussy apart."

My body jerked as I drove my hips into the pole. My bucking became more frantic, and my screams became incoherent. I wasn't acting anymore as my butt repeatedly clenched while I orgasmed hard. Finally, I spun around and slid to the floor. I collapsed with my legs spread wide open and my knees pulled up to my heaving breasts. I was every bit as surprised as the stunned crowd.

I barely reacted when someone yelled, "The bitch isn't wearing any panties."

My bare legs trembled in the aftermath of my intense orgasm. My chest heaved as I gasped for air, causing my generous breasts to wobble. The room erupted in applause. Someone in the crowd leaned across the stage and snatched my muscle shirt as a souvenir.

The final dancer was the tall redhead who wasted no time removing her flannel shirt to expose her large freckled breasts. She tossed the shirt toward the back of the narrow stage, but it didn't stop some long-armed redneck from grabbing it.

She ran over to the pole and did a front hook spin with her thighs spread enough that you couldn't help noticing that she was wearing a red thong under her blue Daisy Dukes. Her cut-offs were shorter than any of the other contestants except mine. She did a few more spins and an inversion with her thighs spread once more.

She pranced around the pole, shaking her breasts in time to the loud pounding music. She leaned her back against the post and did a squat with her thighs spread wide. As she rose from the squat, her hands cupped her large bare breasts as if offering them to the crowd to taste. She did another dip, and this time as she rose, she undid the snap on her ragged jeans. Her fingers found the zipper, and she lowered it a couple of inches before raising it again. She repeated this maneuver several times before leaving the zipper down. The front of her jeans gapped open, exposing her lacy red thong.

Just as the music was ending, she pulled the top of her panties down far enough to expose a small heart-shaped patch of closely trimmed red pubic hair that matched the hair on her head. She did a body wave to finish her set. With her hips pressed forward, she lowered the zipper further to expose the top of her shaved pussy.

The judges moved to the back of the bar and huddled together in a heated discussion. Finally, Andy climbed onto the stage and summoned the four finalists to join him.

He announced that the first dancer had taken fourth place, and he rewarded her with a fifty-dollar prize. The second dancer took home a hundred dollars for third place. I was wondering if I had done enough to win.

Andy beckoned the redhead and me to come closer. He put his arms around our bare sweaty waists. Because the bar owner was a dirty old man, or maybe because I am short, his hand cupped the bottom of my naked breast. He was babbling something about having counted the judges' scores twice.

"It seems we have a tie between our hometown girl, Mindy, and the new challenger, Lyss. I'll give these lovely ladies another chance to show who's the best dancer. I know everyone wants to see more of these beauties, so we'll have a no holds barred rematch. Each woman will dance until I tell the DJ to stop the music. We'll start in about an hour. That'll give these sexy ladies a chance to plan their set. What does everyone think?"

The crowd erupted in a frenzy of screams and catcalls.

When the yelling calmed down, someone shouted, "You said no holds barred. What about the house rule that says the dancers cannot remove their Daisy Dukes?"

The question started another round of screaming from the predominantly male and testosterone overloaded crowd.

Andy waved his hands for quiet. He pointed to a heavy-set man in his fifties wearing a sheriff's uniform standing at the bar. Next to the sheriff were a couple of the ugliest men in the world. The ruddy-faced officer appeared to be the only redhead in the room besides Mindy.

"The chief said, "My men and I will be going off duty soon. As private citizens, we won't interfere with the actions of a well-behaved crowd. I don't mind if the Drunken Tortoise stays open past legal closing time since I feel a little parched after my long shift. I would welcome another cold beer or even two. Oh, I'd like to remind everyone to vote for me in next week's election."

Andy said, "In appreciation of his support, I would like to make the sheriff a judge in the Daisy Duke Amateur Dance Contest. We need an odd number of judges to avoid another tie. Chief, please say yes. All your drinks will be on the house."

The sheriff laughed. "You got me at free drinks."

Andy turned his attention to the redheaded girl and me. He gave my hard nipple a tweak causing me to squeal in unison with my competitor. Once he had our attention, the owner held out his fist with two toothpicks protruding. I drew the longer one and chose to go last.

The redhead glared at me and said, "Cunt, you're going down. I'm tired of your cheating. You got lucky once dancing without panties, but there is no way a clumsy little whore from Vegas can beat me."

My reply wasn't polite. I think it was the tequila talking since I'm usually well-mannered. I'm used to having a judge maintain order in his courtroom. Both Mindy and I would have been held in contempt if we had been in front of a judge. Since it was a kick-ass Western bar, things quickly spiraled out of control.

I hissed, "Fuck off, you stupid freckled cow, before I tie your sagging udders in a knot and slap your face with them."

Andy didn't try very hard to prevent a fight, but he did manage to grab my arm just above the elbow. His move gave Mindy a home-field advantage. She also outweighed me by thirty pounds and had a longer reach. Despite her size advantage, I knew I could easily take the big woman in a fair fight. I had two stripes on my Brazilian jiu-jitsu brown belt and had no reason to consider her a threat.

The redheaded bitch jumped me while I was looking at Andy's rough hand holding me tight. I saw her move out of the corner of my eye. I quickly swept my outside leg against her calf to take her down. Thanks to all the alcohol I'd consumed, I was a split second too slow. She put everything she had behind her fist, which caught me in the solar plexus and knocked the wind out of me. I dropped to my hands and knees, fighting to regain my breath. So much for a fair fight.

Brazilian Ju-Jitsu focuses on takedowns and ground fighting. It doesn't allow striking an opponent. However, Mindy had learned how to fight on the street and not in some well-padded dojo. She was only interested in beating me up and didn't give a damn about stupid rules.

I would have gladly accepted help from my companions, but the crowd in the packed bar had surged forward when Mindy hurled the first insult. By the time she sucker-punched me, the roaring mob was pressed too tight around the stage for Matt and Josh to fight their way through in time to help. Of course, Andy happily stepped back to let us settle our differences. I'm sure he realized his customers loved watching a catfight.

Mindy wasted no time pressing her vicious attack. I was wheezing when she jumped me. She grabbed the base of my braided ponytail and slammed my head against the wooden floor of the elevated stage. I saw stars as I rolled away in an attempt to escape another impact with the hard floor. I tried grabbing her sweaty body, but my hand slipped. I was rewarded with another head slam to the floor, which left my head spinning.

I was used to practicing at my local dojo dressed in an outfit designed for competition. It includes a Gi, which is a heavy cotton wrap-around jacket, trousers, and a thick belt that signifies rank. Underneath the uniform, I wore a sports bra and compression rash guard undergarments. The outfit provides various handholds to your opponent, including the belt and thick collar of the jacket. Since Mindy was only wearing her Daisy Duke shorts and stiletto high heel shoes, there wasn't much for me to grab. It was like trying to catch a greased pig at the state fair.

The nasty redhead seemed to have no problem maintaining her grip on my hair as she pulled my sweaty back against her chest. She had an arm around my throat, hindering my breathing. Her other hand was wrapped around the waistband of my Daisy Dukes. She was wary of my legs which had provided my only offense when I got her in a leg sweep at the start of the fight. She rolled onto her back and forced my shorts down to the middle of my thighs, trapping my legs. The crowd of testosterone-crazed men went wild at the sight of my exposed hairless pussy.

I didn't have time to be embarrassed since she tightened her chokehold. I realized the fight would be over soon if I couldn't breathe. I feared that my opponent had no concept of 'tapping out' where you conceded a martial arts match and were immediately released. It was anyone's guess if the bitch had any limits to her cruelty. Hell, she might kill me by accident.

I slammed my elbow into Mindy's muscular abdomen to distract her. She laughed as if a mosquito had bitten her. However, it provided enough distraction to thrust my other hand between a gap in her sloppy chokehold. I was on her in an instant. Having my Daisy Dukes around my thighs limited my choice of moves, but Mindy helped me out. She spun away and tried to kick my head. I immediately put her in a painful kneebar that threatened to rip tendons. The bitch screamed in pain as she tried to twist out of the hold. For a second, I considered crippling her.

I hoped I wouldn't regret sparing the nasty bitch, but the opportunity quickly passed. Matt and Josh had fought their way through the crowd and separated us. My new boyfriend pulled me to my feet. I got a chorus of boos as I pulled up my shorts. Only a couple of loose threads held on the brass button at the waist, and new rips had appeared in the worn-out fabric.

Matt said, "God damn, you were fantastic."

Andy laughed nervously and raised his microphone. "Ladies, please save your energy for the contest. I understand your enthusiasm, but please don't kill your competitor until after the final round."

I returned to our table, still topless. Matt explained that my muscle shirt had disappeared.

Bertha said, "I thought I saw who grabbed your top, but when Josh questioned him, he didn't have it. I'm afraid if you stay for the finale, you'll have to remain topless. It's not too bad. Mindy and all the waitresses are also topless."

I turned to Matt and said, "What do you think about your girlfriend sitting around with her breasts exposed for the next hour?"

Matt smiled. "I think you're fucking hot, but if you want, we can head back to Deadman's Junction and catch some sleep before your initiation. I'm sure the redhead can use the money."

Bertha snorted. "Sleep my ass! No one slept at the motel last night. Even Ozzie, whose room is at the other end of the building, complained about the racket you two made. I think your girlfriend's screams even scared off the coyotes."

Josh and Matt laughed heartily. I was blushing as I turned to Matt and declined his offer to leave.

"Matt, I never quit, never. It'll be a cold day in Needles before I let that bitch, Mindy, win."

Perhaps it was the margaritas talking, but I felt completely safe in the raucous nightclub, despite being dressed in nothing more than my ragged Daisy Dukes. Hell, with Matt, Josh, and Bertha to watch over me, no one would dare give me any trouble. Besides, I felt strangely aroused being checked out by every horny redneck in the crowded bar. It was a fun night, and it would only get better when I won the Daisy Duke contest. I was looking forward to fucking Matt's brains out once we got back to the Dead Man's Junction Motel.