Harley Davidson Lawyer Ch 06

Harley Davidson Lawyer

Chapter 6: Don't Be Rude

The waitress came over with a pitcher of beer for our table and another bottle of water for Bertha. The waitress put a shot glass of tequila in front of me with a salt shaker and a small bowl of lemon slices.

I said, "I didn't ask for the shot."

The waitress pointed to a couple of scraggly guys seated at the bar next to the waitress station. They were the ugly men who earlier had been drinking with the sheriff and hitting on Mindy. The first thought I had was that they couldn't have been more different. One of them was tall and skinny, with long silvery hair curling down from the edges of a bald crown. His pointy face and beady eyes reminded me of a ferret. His smile revealed sharp crooked teeth and did nothing to soften his predatory eyes.

The second man was squat, dark-skinned, and burly with a mass of unkempt curly black hair and a bushy beard that only left his dull eyes visible. His shirt with cut-off sleeves was open at the top, exposing more dark hair on a barrel chest. The bottom buttons of his shirt strained to contain a massive beer belly. He looked like the old man of the mountains, and he was waving at me with a rough hand the size of a dinner plate.

The waitress snickered at her joke as she said, "The tequila shot is a present from the gentlemen at the bar."

I stared at the rough-looking men. The fat, dark-skinned man kept waving. "Gentlemen? Seriously? I don't know them. Why would they buy me a drink?"

Bertha laughed. "Lyss, she means Dumb and Dumber are smitten by your tight little body and huge, bare breasts."

The waitress elaborated. "Well, John and Luke just got out of prison for cattle rustling, and the sight of a new, pretty woman sitting in the bar topless has the horny bastards as excited as a couple of jackrabbits in heat. God knows I have to keep slapping their hands off my butt and tits."

"Cattle rustling?"

The waitress laughed heartily, causing her bare pert breasts to jiggle. "Their defense was that they had only borrowed the heifer for sex and intended to return it."

I giggled as I thought about presenting that defense in court with a straight face. When I was a public defender, my clients often had unbelievable alibis. It was just one of the reasons I wanted to go into private practice.

"Did the judge believe them?"

The waitress grinned. "He believed everything except the part about returning the animal. He gave the brothers six months since they were apprehended before they could do the dirty deed."

"Brothers, seriously?"

" Mindy, John, and Luke have the same mother. Rotznase was the town whore before she disappeared. However, no one will admit to being the father of any of Rotznase's bastards. The only one with any smarts is that lying bitch, Mindy. Luke is as dumb as a box of rocks and somehow, John, the darker brother, thinks he's the brains of the outfit. Let's just say the only one who gets any dates is Mindy. However, she's angry that no one will put a ring on her finger and take her out of the piece-of-shit trailer she shares with her ugly brothers."

"So, basically, Mindy's brothers bought me a drink because I'm as pretty as a heifer. Oh, and thanks for letting me know how desperate my competitor is for the prize."

I was about to send the drink back when Josh said, "Don't be rude. I wouldn't want people to think the Raptors are a bunch of snobs. Besides, we need the drink for a toast."

Josh held up his whiskey, and we all clicked glasses as he said, "To our tough and rather tiny candidate for membership in the Raptors. May she always crush her opponents, both in and out of court."

I held up my glass to the strangers at the bar and downed my shot while trying to look inconspicuous with my oversized breasts bared to everyone in the club. I shuddered as the strangely bitter drink burned my throat. Josh had refilled my beer glass, and I took a healthy gulp to get the taste of cheap booze out of my mouth. I kept sipping my beer as the guys related old war stories.

Bertha got bored and dragged her old man off to the dance floor. Matt asked if I wanted to dance, and I begged off. I needed to plan my Daisy Duke routine for the showdown with that bitch, Mindy. After sitting in silence for a few minutes, my boyfriend downed his beer and stood up.

"I need to take a piss. Will you be alright by yourself for a couple of minutes?"

I smiled at my gorgeous boyfriend. "I'll be fine. What could happen to me sitting topless in a public bar? I've got at least fifty guys watching out for me."

Matt laughed and gave me a quick peck on the lips. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled his sweet mouth back for a deeper kiss. Before he could escape, I remembered I had given him my wallet and cellphone to hold while I danced.

I said, "Oh hey, could you give me my wallet. I want to give the pole dancer a tip."

Matt pulled my wallet out of his black leather jacket and handed it to me. I watched his beautiful firm ass as he walked away. He passed under a chandelier, and the light danced around his blond head like a halo. I felt a wave of euphoria wash over me. Everything in my life was beautiful.

I felt a profound love for Matt. My new big sister, Bertha, brought joy to my soul. I even felt warmth for the handsy leader of the Raptors. I picked up Josh's empty whiskey glass and held it up to the light. A kaleidoscope of colors sparkled in my eyes as I turned the cut glass around. I smiled as I thought about his welcoming me into the Raptors. The idea of having loving friends was intoxicating. I was looking forward to the mysterious initiation ceremony with eager anticipation.

I pulled a twenty-dollar bill from my wallet and waved it at the pole dancer. She strutted over and bent down to take the money. I licked my lips as my eyes danced over her gorgeous athletic body.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to clean the pole after my routine."

"No problem, Sweetheart, I always wipe it down after another dancer. I enjoyed watching you, and I'll never forget your performance. Hell, I may even steal it. You had the crowd going wild. My dance teacher always told us to make love to the pole. Now, I know what she meant."

"Go right ahead and copy it. I already borrowed some of the easier moves from your routine."

After she strolled back to the pole, I followed the swaying of her voluptuous ass. I reluctantly closed my eyes and thought about my next performance. I just knew the redhead had more tricks in her bag. I thought about incorporating her move teasing the crowd by lowering and raising her zipper. Her final act had involved pushing her thong down to display a small tuft of neatly trimmed red pubic hair. Since I wasn't wearing panties, I would be showing a lot more if I copied her. Of course, thanks to Mindy, everyone in the Drunken Tortoise had already seen it all.

Thinking about flashing my newly shaved pussy to a room full of horny men sent a shiver of arousal through my sex. My hand slipped between my legs and cupped my mound. I was surprised at how wet my Daisy Dukes were when I squeezed the tender flesh underneath the flimsy fabric. I suddenly felt embarrassed. What if someone in the crowded bar saw me caressing myself? I nervously looked around and saw the sheriff headed my way. He looked like trouble. Why did he have to come over when I was alone?

He strolled up to my table with a large glass of whiskey in his hand and smiled. He looked familiar, and I felt a warmth towards him that I hadn't experienced with anyone since my aunt died. Was he a long-lost relative? As soon as I asked myself the question, I knew his red hair made that unlikely. So, why did he remind me of my happy childhood before my parents were killed in a crash?

He pulled up a chair and immediately spoiled my warm memories by starting to lecture me before he even sat down. He yelled at me about my indecent performance. I felt like a little girl when my father scolded me for annoying my brothers and their friends.

I breathed a sigh of relief when it turned out that he was concerned that I was underage, and he just wanted to see some ID. I pulled my Enhanced California Driver's License from my wallet and gave it to him. I had to push the ID into his hand because his eyes were riveted on my bare breasts.

He studied the piece of plastic carefully. His sweaty brow furrowed before he finally said, "How did you manage to get a driver's license when you're twelve years old? Does the nightclub owner know you're a minor? What the fuck? I don't need this shit at the end of my shift. You're obviously a teenage runaway. I'm going to have to take you in and try to contact your parents tomorrow. That's a problem because the jail is filled with drunks and prostitutes on weekends. I don't think you'll like the company."

"I think you need to check your math. I'm twenty-two."

The sheriff scoffed. "I did the 'math.' You're twelve. Does your boyfriend know he's sleeping with a minor? I hate pedophiles even more than shithead bikers. I'm going to bust his sorry ass so fast your head will spin."

"Seriously, I'm twenty-two. You just made an error calculating my age."

The sheriff smiled at me and said, "Sweetheart, maybe you could come over here and help me with my arithmetic. I'd hate to arrest you and your pedophile boyfriend based on 'my' mistake."

I stood up and took a shaky step toward the heavy-set sheriff. My head was spinning, but mainly, I was embarrassed. I felt like a little girl accused of taking an extra cookie in kindergarten. It didn't help that I was only wearing my skimpy Daisy Dukes and my five-inch-high platform Michael Kors. I tried telling myself that all the waitresses were topless too. Besides, my breasts were as gorgeous as any in the bar.

The sheriff showed his irritation by snatching my license away when I tried to point to my birthday.

"Little girl, my eyes are old and tired. It would be a big help if you'd sit on your Daddy's lap, so I don't have to bend over while you're trying to convince me that you're a big girl."

My heart melted when the sheriff said he was my Daddy. My father had been a Los Angeles Police detective who'd always wanted to be the sheriff in an old Wild Western town. I was thrilled his dream had come true, and I felt terrible I hadn't immediately recognized my father. He'd put on weight, and he had dyed his hair red in the ten years since he had been run off the road by mobsters. Had he and my Mom survived the crash? Had they been in hiding all this time? I was thrilled that I had the chance to sit on my Daddy's lap again.

As soon as I got settled across his heavy thighs, my Dad put his arm around my back. I giggled when he pulled me snugly against his chest and accidentally tickled my stomach. I squirmed as his hand slid up my side and cupped the bottom of my breast. I smelled a strong odor of whiskey and cigarettes on his breath that mingled with the acrid stink of unwashed flesh and stale sweat. His hand weighed my breast, but the big man ignored my feeble protests. I tried to distract him from twisting my nipples by reading to the birthdate on my driver's license.

"Hell. I can read, and I can do arithmetic. Obviously, it says you're twenty-two. I was giving you a hard time so that I could get you in my arms and keep you from escaping. What has me concerned is that Mindy says you are a whore from Las Vegas. Are you here to turn a few tricks? You can tell your Daddy."

"Honestly, I'm not a whore. You should be proud of me, Daddy. I went to law school and..."

My Dad interrupted me. "It's going to be a long night if you keep lying to me. Hell, your pupils are so large I'll bet you're high. I'm also willing to wager that you're carrying drugs. I'd better search you thoroughly."

The sheriff slid a hand inside one of the front pockets that Bertha had sliced off so the bottom wouldn't show. He laughed when his fingers found bare flesh. I shrieked when his rough fingertips rasped across my clit and began exploring my wet slit. The band's discordant attempt at music overwhelmed my screams, but my protests were still loud enough to attract the attention of the drunks sitting at the nearby tables. We soon had a crowd of rednecks standing around offering encouragement. I couldn't see the dance floor anymore, which meant that Josh and Berta couldn't see me.

The sheriff said, "There's not a hair on your pussy. That proves you're lying about not being a whore."

I had never been more embarrassed in my life. I had disappointed my loving Dad. My discomfort increased as my nipples hardened and my pussy gushed juices around his probing fingers. I could smell my arousal over the stench of his body odor. I knew he could smell it too.

All my senses were overstimulated. The colorful reflections from the disco ball seemed like powerful searchlights scanning the room. My ears had been assaulted for hours by the grating noise the band produced in imitation of country rock. My dry mouth tasted of tequila and lemon. I was barely aware that my sweaty skin felt hot because my clit was on fire. I could feel every ridge of his rough fingertips as they strummed the hypersensitive nub.

I had trouble focusing my thoughts. My brain was overloaded by my senses and a warm feeling of love for everyone, especially my sweet Dad. I tried one more time to convince him that I was a good loving daughter.

"Daddy, I'm sorry, but please, please, please believe me. My boyfriend asked me to shave. I'm not a whore. I'm a practicing attorney."

The sheriff ignored my protest and continued his search for illegal substances. My body jerked in his firm grasp when he shoved a pair of thick, calloused fingers into my boiling pussy. He mumbled something about a cavity search as I twisted around his thrusting fingers.

His other hand caressed the tender flesh on the inside of my brown thigh. I jumped when his fingers bumped against the crotch of my Daisy Dukes before he quickly checked my other cut-off pocket. He surprised me by twisting my head around and pressing his lips against mine. I moaned when my Dad pushed his tongue inside my hungry mouth.

I gave in to my Dad's friendly touch. My warm glow of euphoria only intensified as his muscular fingers roamed my scantily clad body. I had to close my eyes to block out the bright shimmering lights in the club. I arched my back and pressed my breast into the sheriff's rough grasp as he mauled my sensitive nipple while thrusting his fingers into my wet pussy. My loving father's hands felt so good.

The sheriff let go of my breast and began playing with the loose brass button on my cut-off jeans. He fumbled with it for a moment before pulling his fingers from my needy vagina. He used both hands on the stubborn button. I heard the threads holding it on pop, and I opened my eyes in momentary panic. I saw the button bounce on the floor, and the sheriff apologized.

"Damn, I thought it was a snap."

I told myself to relax. It would be easy to find the button, and I could sew it on when I got back to the motel. Maybe, I could work the missing button into my upcoming performance.

The sheriff's lips returned to my body, starting on my neck and working their way down my chest. I felt a tsunami of ecstasy as his mouth found my hard nipple. I never heard the zipper on my Daisy Duke's, but I felt his whole hand slide inside my open cut-offs and caress my mound. The crowd cheered at the sight of the sheriff's hands massaging my bare pussy. Knowing my body was almost completely exposed to the lustful eyes of the shouting mob increased my arousal a hundred-fold. The sensation of my Dad's rough fingers on my bare, tender flesh was so intense that I thought he had taken a blow torch to my sex.

"Well, fuck me. Mindy was right. You are a nasty, dirty, little slut. No self-respecting girl from Needles ever participated in the Daisy Duke contest commando. I think she's right about you being a filthy whore from Las Vegas. I bet you thought you could win the dance prize and turn a few tricks without getting caught. Well, now you're in the arms of the law. Maybe if you cooperate, I'll let you off with a warning."

I moaned as he pushed his fingers back into my wet pussy and twisted them around until the palm of his hand was pressed against my engorged clit. I was confused by his stern lecture. I was a good girl. Why was my Dad calling me names? I just wanted him to be nice and love me.

The waitress interrupted my thoughts by placing another whiskey in front of the sheriff, courtesy of the house. She had another shot of tequila for me, a gift from the smiling men at the bar. I smiled back at my well-wishers as I felt a warm glow of camaraderie. Was this what it felt like to have friends? I was so thirsty that I threw back the shot in one gulp and waved at my fans.

The sheriff saw the ugly men wave and said, "Nice, everyone liked your dirty performance so much even Mindy's brothers are buying you drinks. That's a bit odd since both are judges, and they voted against you. If it weren't for them, you might have won. Well, drink up, and you can give your Daddy a lap dance."

The lights in the room were glimmering in flashes of technicolor hues. The walls were breathing as if I was in the belly of some beast. Nothing was steady and fixed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of chairs scamper across the floor to the privacy of a dark corner, where they began copulating so intensely, they threw off burning splinters.

None of this seemed as bizarre as the blind pink snake my Dad was pressing into my hand. My thoughts were in turmoil. Why did he keep a snake in his pants? If it was a present, I didn't want it. For a moment, I wondered if I had been drugged, but I couldn't hold on to the idea as the pink snake reared up and hissed at me. I gripped the snake's neck hard as a drop of milky white poison oozed from its hideous mouth.

I whimpered, "I think I've had too much to drink."

"Nonsense, little lady. You're not even close to being drunk. Besides, you wouldn't want to be rude to your friends at the bar. Now drink up and give your ever-loving Daddy a lap dance."

I hadn't noticed that the waitress had brought another shot. I threw it back, and even after sucking on the lemon, the drink still tasted nasty. I wondered again that maybe the bartender was giving me the cheap stuff.

"Now, how about the lap dance you promised your Daddy."

I knew vaguely what a lap dance was from watching a video, but that was a couple of years ago.

"Dad, I don't know how. I can try, but you'll have to help me."

"Seriously? You expect me to believe a dirty little whore from Las Vegas doesn't know how to do a lap dance? Fine, I'll teach you. I'll move forward on my chair to give you room. Just swing your legs around on either side of my waist. You can lock your ankles behind my back."

Before I could move, he used two hands to lift my ass off his lap and turn me effortlessly, so I was facing him with my hips pressed against his crotch. He had moved me so fast that I felt dizzy.

"Now listen to the music and grind your hips against me to the beat."

The band's drummer was pounding out a rapid beat. I began working my hips against the sheriff's erection. I didn't have to worry about pressing my crotch against his because his hands on my half bare ass cheeks were pulling me tight against his body. My hard nipples were rubbing on his shirt while he ground my exposed clit against his belt buckle.

"You're doing good, slut. It's time to go for the prize."

My Dad pulled the crotch of my Daisy Dukes to one side before he lifted me and positioned my pussy against the tip of his pet snake. I shook my head to clear my mind. It all seemed wrong to me. I felt sick when I realized my loving father was preparing to fuck his little girl. The crowd shouted their approval.