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.