Wet T-Shirt Practice

By Ironbuddah

Chapter 1: Practice Gone Wrong

Patricia swore, "Damn our good-for nothing boyfriends! You'd think they'd show up to watch us practice for a wet t-shirt contest."

"Yeah, I bet they were afraid of being called pussy-whipped for leaving the bar early." Barbara agreed.

"The guys in the bar would have been giving them high fives and asking to come along if they had explained what we wanted them to do." Patricia added.

Patricia and Barbara were both college juniors. Barbara was about 5-6 with short sandy hair. She was slender as a reed, but had nice c-cup breasts that looked even larger on her slender frame. Patricia was a few inches shorter with longer dark hair, and an explosively curvy figure. Her bras were either D's or DD's depending on who made them. While she wasn't as slender as Barbara, no one had ever complained about anything she had let a guy see or get his hands on.

"Well, fuck them both then!" Barbara swore at their absent boyfriends.

Patricia complained, "We still need to practice, and the only guy around is my dad."

"Well, I guess I could at least get some practice in, if he would agree to watch and give me some feedback." Barbara reasoned.

"Are you kidding? Dad is always staring at you when Mom isn't looking. She's not here right now, so he'll agree."

The college girls were trying to win at least a share of a wet t-shirt contest. They had agreed to split the money 50-50 if either of them won anything. The prizes were $500, $300, and $200, so if they could finish both first and second, they would each get $400 of extra spending money for the summer.

A few minutes later, the college girls were standing in the back yard wearing v-necked white wife beaters with Patricia's dad. They both had bikini tops on under their t-shirts, and Patricia was holding the hose.

"Thanks Mr. Davis!"

"Yeah, thanks Dad."

"Not a word of this to anyone, and I mean anyone. Your mom would divorce me if she knew I was doing this." Sighing, Tom Davis added, "It's a good thing we have a privacy fence."

Tom was already eyeing up Barbara, and he was having a hard time not staring at his own daughter. He tended to forget how stacked his little girl was in the clothes she normally wore around the house. That was before Barbara untied the stings to her bikini and pulled it out through the neck of her t-shirt. Tom was really leering at her now.

"OK, hose me off girl." Barbara instructed her friend.

Barbara squirmed under the cold spray of water. She wasn't really trying to avoid it, but she was having a hard time stoically taking the full force of the garden hose. Tom's mouth opened in amazement once Patricia decided that her friend's shirt was sufficiently transparent and Barbara stood up straight in her see-through shirt. "Wow! There are going to have to be some ladies with great bodies in this contest if they want to keep you from winning the money."

"I haven't even started dancing yet!"

"So dance!" Both Davis' said in unison.

Barbara started to shimmy, and Tom said. "Oh! That's awesome, but I think I know a trick you can use. When they're getting your shirt wet, bounce up and down. It will make the shirt cling to your tits like a second skin."

"I can't believe my dad is talking about your tits." Patricia said as she sprayed her friend with water again. Tom's suggestion worked. The wet shirt wrapped around Barbara's ample curves and stuck to them. Barbara's nipples where hard from the cold, and you could clearly see the hard bumps in the center of her nickel sized areolas.

"So, how's my shimmy look now?" Barbara asked.

"Awesome baby! But slow it down a little bit." Tom advised. "Really sling those big perky tits of yours around."

"Like this?"

"Oh yeah! You should have an excellent chance to win yourself some money. Fuck! I'm going to have to come up with some excuse to go watch this contest." Tom exclaimed getting really excited by what he was seeing.

"OK, but you have to head to the restroom when your daughter is dancing." Barbara stated.

"Huh?" Tom grunted.

"That would just be gross. Watching your daughter basically get topless out in public."

"Oh! Of course." Tom agreed. "Oh, I think you've got the hang of really making those titties of yours bounce Barb! Now move your hips some."

Barbara stopped her dancing entirely when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. "What the fuck are you doing Patricia?"

What Patricia was doing was discarding the top of her bikini and bouncing up and down. Her shirt was still dry, but the two others in the back yard were dumbstruck by what she was doing. Patricia was wearing one of her father's undershirts, and the men's v-neck plunged quite low on her body. Tom found himself hoping that one of his daughter's big tits would pop free. When she started to shake her big jugs from side to side, Tom just had to say something. "Careful honey. You're about to pop out of that thing. If the bar holding the contest is serious about enforcing the rules, they might boot you for having a boob pop free."

"What? I thought the whole point of a wet t-shirt contest was to display boobs." Patricia said while still bouncing and gyrating.

"True, but they aren't a strip club. It's illegal for them to be displaying bare boobs." Tom's eyes were wide and his head was moving slightly as he tracked the movement of his daughter's large heaving breasts.

"Patricia, quit that! This is weird; you moving like that in front of your father."

Tom turned to face Barbara again. This time she worked on getting feedback for how to work her hips for maximum effect. She would try out a move and Tom would let her know if it worked or not.

Bored and feeling left out, Patricia decided to hose her own shirt down. Just like her father had instructed Barbara to do, she bounced up and down while the shirt was soaking up water. Since she didn't have a mirror, she wasn't 100% sure, but it felt like the wet cotton was clinging to her curves. She practiced shimmying for a bit, but then decided to cut in to get a bit of her father's advice.

Barbara protested as Patricia stepped between her friend and her father. "Hey, you can't do that! He's your dad. Oh my god! Did you wet your shirt down? You've got to go back inside. He can't see you like this!"

"Don't worry, I won't do anything freaky."

Tom's tongue lolled out as he leered at Patricia's tits. Not only were her tits bigger than Barbara's, her nipples were bigger and harder too. On top of all that, her areolas were about the size of half dollars, which was something Tom really liked. Instead of shimmying, his child was undulating her belly, nearly bouncing her cleavage up to her chin and once again threatening to pop one of her boobs free.

"This is getting way to weird for me! You've had enough practice Patricia."

"No, this would be weird." Not knowing exactly why she did it, perhaps to shock her friend, or perhaps because she had never seen a gaze as appreciative as the one her father was giving her now; Patricia grabbed the v-neck of her shirt and stretched the wet cotton down. Patricia giggled as she bared both breasts to her friend and her father.

Barbara was stunned. "I can't believe you fucking did that!"

Tom couldn't help himself. He filled his hands with his daughter's big tits and buried his face in her cleavage. Patricia squealed with delight as Barbara was ordering them to stop. Patricia didn't listen as she jumped up and wrapped her legs around her father's waist and her arms around his shoulder.

"Joke's over! Stop fucking around you two. This is gross!" Looking around for some way to separate father and daughter, Barbara went to pick up the hose.

By the time she had it; Tom had already dropped to his knees in the wet grass and was lowering his daughter to her back. Father and daughter ignored the cold water striking them as they worked to position his hard cock trapped beneath his pants into the grove of her pussy trapped beneath her denim shorts.

Barbara screamed in vain. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" She continued to hose the writhing incestuous couple down to no avail.

Suddenly finding the correct position, Tom gasped and Patricia moaned. Tom grabbed his daughter's hips and started grinding his prick against her pussy. Even separated by several layers of clothing and cooled by water, he couldn't believe how hot his little girl's pussy felt. He grunted every time he hunched his hips forward.

Patricia arched her back and grabbed handfuls of muddy, wet grass. She moaned each time her father ground up against her, and her moans went up in pitch every time. It soon became clear to everyone in the back yard that day that Patricia was rapidly approaching orgasm. It was equally clear that neither father nor daughter were going to do anything to stop that from happening.

Dropping the hose, Barbara gave up on stopping them as well. "I can't believe this is fucking happening." Her voice was numb, but she was unable to look away.

Patricia's body shuddered as it found release. She made a few mousy noises as she came, then her body went limp as she released the handfuls of grass she had grabbed to brace her writing body. Patricia panted to catch her breath, but was otherwise silent.

Tom's eyes closed and he made a funny face as the sudden realization that he had just made his own daughter cum hit him. He felt his own seed flowing into his pants. He was briefly glad that the sudden storm of lust that had consumed both him and his daughter had struck so quickly that neither of them had time to get fully undressed. Then all he cared about was the feeling of his daughter's pussy beneath him as cum flowed through his dick. He sighed from the intense pleasure and the relief when he was done cumming.

Barbara was distraught. "Oh my god you two! That is like, so fucked up!"

Still somewhat dazed Patricia asked, "What's fucked up?"

"How can you ask that? For all intents and purposes you just had sex with your dad in the back yard!"

"Um, I guess that's true. I don't know what came over me. The last decision I remember making was to show my tits." Patricia explained. Her father decided that it was wisest to just keep his mouth shut for now.

"You don't remember fucking your father?" Barbara asked incredulously.

Patricia responded. "Oh I remember doing it, but I don't remember deciding to do it. It just kind of happened. And besides, we didn't really fuck. We both kept our pants on."

"Oh, you might as well have gone all the way! I've got to get out of here. I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"Hey Barbara, you won't tell anyone about this, will you?" Tom asked with a worried voice.

"Hell no! I don't want anyone knowing I saw any of this fucked up shit!"

Tom was still on top of his daughter when Barbara stormed out the back gate. "Hey honey, you can probably hose off, but I'm going to need to take a shower. Can you do a load of laundry so your mom doesn't wonder why the hell I have mud and grass stains on the knees of my work slacks?"

"Sure thing Daddy!"

"You don't feel weird, do you honey?"

"It all happened so fast; I don't know what I feel right now." Her father was standing up, and she was tucking her tits back into her wet shirt. It didn't really do much for her modesty, but it seemed to be the right thing to do. "Whatever came over me seems to have gone away."

"That's pretty much how I feel right now too." Tom told his daughter as he headed into the house.