Softail Curves III by D. H. Cameron

reclined on her side next to me. She traced patterns on my stomach with her fingers. It was comfortable and intimate. We were friends and enjoying each other’s touch but as Sheila had told me, it was just fun. That’s when Dutch came home.
    Sheila saw him first as he appeared at the top of the stairs and surprised me when she said, “Hi, Dutch.” I followed Sheila’s gaze and for a moment, I panicked. I should have known better than to worry.
    “Hi, daddy,” I said and then added, “You’re home early.”
    “Locke fell asleep and one of the other guys passed out. We decided to call it a night. Thanks for keeping my soon-to-be wife busy, Sheila. Looks like more fun than the bachelor party,” Dutch said plainly with a devilish smile growing on his face.
    “The booze and the strippers got the better of us,” Sheila said. Dutch sat on the bed, leaned over and kissed me.
    “ You look beautiful...in a drunk, slutty kind of way,” Dutch said to me.
    “You’re not mad?” I asked. Sheila laughed. Dutch looked at her and then back at me.
    “No, I asked Sheila to do it. She eagerly agreed. Did you think because we were getting married we’d stop getting you into trouble?” he told me. I shook my head. I should have seen it.
    “I’m just scratching the surface here, aren’t I?” I asked them both wondering just how much trouble these two were going to get me in. I couldn’t deny that I hoped it was a lot.
    “Wait until we hit Sturgis,” Sheila said.
    “You’re going with us?” I asked excitedly.
    “Well, Locke and I were going anyway, but yeah,” she replied. I couldn’t wait to see what might happen at that party with Locke and Sheila in tow.
    “Should I leave and let you two get back to whatever it was you were doing?” Dutch asked. I giggled.
    “I think we ’re done. Besides, we should get some sleep. Tomorrow night, tonight I guess, is going to be rowdy,” I said.
    “Hey, someone’s got to be responsible around here, right Dutch?” Sheila said.
    “Yeah, maybe I should call her mommy instead of her calling me daddy,” he said. Were they serious? It was almost down and they thought I was being a stick in the mud for wanting to get a few hours a sleep?
    “Really? You’re not tired?” I asked them.
    “Yeah, of course we are. We’re just fucking with you,” Sheila said and then asked, “Mind if I stay? I’m too drunk to go home.” Dutch got a big grin on his face.
    “ No threesomes on our wedding day,” I said playfully.
    “So someday we can have one?” he asked as he pulled his boots off.
    “Oh my God!” was all I said and he and Sheila laughed at me. Dutch wedged himself between us, still in his jeans and t-shirt, after he turned off the bedside lamp. I curled up next to him and found the whole evening strange but incredibly fun. What was I getting myself into? Something special, I decided. Dutch was already snoring between us as I pondered this exciting new life I was about to dive into. I could barely see Sheila as she turned to me whispered, “Night, Shauna,” and then winked.
    “Good n ight, Sheila,” I whispered back and smiled to myself. I wasn’t frightened anymore. Life, like riding behind Dutch on his motorcycle, had gone from scary to exhilarating and suddenly I couldn’t get enough.
    >>O<<
    This may not have been how I envisioned my wedding day when I was growing up but I wouldn’t have had it any other way now. Sheila and I were in the ladies room, finishing getting ready. We had teased our hair bigger than usual, wore far too much make up and were helping each other get dressed. Our dresses, maybe costumes was a better term, were complex but sexy as hell. Sheila was in red and I was in white. Each of us had on a lacy bra, panties and garter belt set, stockings with seams up the back and matching lace fingerless gloves that went to our elbows.
    Over that, we secured two leather dresses, mine white and Sheila’s red, that in no way covered our stocking tops or