Our Daughters became Biker Babes

We rode into Warm Waters State Park just after noon on a bright, clear Thursday. My daughter and I were headed for a favorite swimming hole. It was a school day but it was Choral’s birthday and she convinced me to let her take the day off from lessons to go on a picnic in her favorite park. It was easy for her to convince me to take a day from work to spend with the birthday girl. Patsy, my wife, was too tied up with a big-dollar donor to join us but she was in full agreement with what our daughter and I were doing that day. When we came into the parking lot at the small lake there was just one other vehicle parked, an Indian Scout motorcycle which meant there would be plenty of free space and quiet at the warm springs. Perfect, it looked to be a good day for daddy and daughter bonding. I parked my Road King next to the Scout.

When we stepped off the trail to the lake, we saw who came on the other bike. Choral chirped a happy laugh then took off running to the pair who were sitting on a blanket next to the water, “Wanda! Wanda, what the fuck are you doing here?” The girl she was talking to stood then bolted a short distance until the two threw their arms around each other in a happy hug. Choral turned to me, “Daddy, this is Wanda, she goes to my school, we have three classes together; she is almost my best friend.”

“Almost?”

“She would be my best friend if she didn’t live so far away.” She focused on Wanda, “Are you skipping school too? Who are you with?”

Wanda stepped away from Choral, “Choral, this is my dad, daddy, this is Choral and —,” she looked at me.

As I admired the girl, appreciating her pretty face, amber eyes, windblown red hair, and very alluring body, I offered my hand to him, “Mike, her father.”

He took my hand, “Jeffery, or Jeff; her father.” Just as soon as introductions were done, the girls got excited to go play in the stream. Wanda was ready, she wore a red two-piece swimsuit, it wasn’t a bikini, but still allowed an intimate view of her ripe young woman’s features. Choral stood nearby and stripped her boots, dropped her denim jeans then ripped her sweatshirt off. In just moments after we arrived my daughter was wearing just her two-piece swimsuit and running for the water. As the girls bolted for the pool, I knew without a doubt, that if I were eighteen, I would have had a fucking hard-on already. Jeff and I watched them until they were wet then he invited me to sit with him. I pulled a beer out of my six-pack cooler, looked at him and he nodded. We sat back and watched our daughters playing in the clear warm water, sipped Yingling, and got acquainted.

We talked and I quickly learned that he too was skipping work to spend a day with his daughter, and he was 98% sure that our meeting in the park was prearranged by the two girls. Yeah, he had a point, the happenstance meeting seemed too convenient. Anyway, Jeff was a widower; his wife, Wanda’s mother died the previous year. He used to have a Harley but switched to the Indian a few months earlier. My wife wasn’t dead, but as the close confidant and top advisor for a well-known political figure, she stayed very busy, often out of the house for days at a time while Choral and I lived as if alone in the world too. I missed my wife more than I didn’t miss her.

Wanda and Choral were splashing, laughing, and having fun when Jeff suggested we take a walk. We took the hiking trail along the river and as soon as we got out of sight of the girls he asked, “You smoke pot?”

Oh, hell yeah, “Are you offering?” He pulled a tin out of his pocket, brought out a big hand-rolled, and offered me the first hit. I lit the joint then Jeff and I began to get more acquainted. We walked the back trails for over an hour, talking, and learning who we were, and by the time we’d finished two good joints, Jeff and I were bonding. We had a lot in common and at the end of the trail had agreed to a ride together to Daytona Bikefest. As we approached the springs again, we heard the peal of the girls laughing, they were still at the pond. They came into sight when we stepped around a large tree; they were sitting side by side, waist-deep in the water; both were nude. I started to say something but Jeff put a hand on my arm getting my attention, “Don’t, not yet, let’s see what they are doing.”

I was stoned and the sight of the two fifteen-year-olds delighted my eyes, and even though one was my daughter, I stepped back then Jeff and I watched the alluring water nymphs talk and play. It didn’t bother me one bit that he was eyeballing Choral, at that moment she wasn’t my daughter, she was female. However, I did focus more on Wanda than Choral, I suppose because it’s natural, she wasn’t related and I assumed he was fixated on my girl, but that didn’t raise any daddy concerns just then. The scene was too intriguing to let minor details like kinship be a bother.

Jeff and I stood behind the big Live Oak and watched them for a minute or so then we had to announce our presence. We stepped into view as if we had just arrived then Jeff yelled at them, “Hey girls, you better get some fucking clothes on.” They spun their heads to see us then Wanda shrieked with embarrassment while Choral grabbed her swimsuit. We two stood quiet while they turned their backs to us and slipped into something less transparent than thin air. The shock of being caught nude quickly faded and the girls asked us where we’d been then announced they were hungry. “Okay,” said Jeff, “Get your clothes on then we can go to that diner on 41, they serve excellent burgers.” Squeals of delight followed the girls into the bushes where they managed to put on their street clothes without being a public spectacle. After an afternoon lunch, we mounted the bikes and rode home, Jeff and Wanda followed us to our place then after a few minutes of saying goodbye and making plans for another ride, they left for home.

Later that night while Choral was telling her mother about about the day, I stepped into my backyard and sipped a couple of tokes off a bong and recalled from my memories the images of Wanda nude. It didn’t take long before my naked daughter was standing next to her friend and I was enjoying the images of both. Just as I was ready to return to the house my daughter came out to join me, she took the bong from my fingers then puffed it dead. Choral was allowed to share weed with Patsy and me since her mother caught her with a small pipe a few months earlier. Even though marijuana is legal as a recreational drug where we live, we had to be real fucking careful about when and where we smoked, if the public found out that we allowed our fifteen-year-old daughter to get high with us, my wife’s career with her politician could be jeopardized, “Where is your mom?”

“She’s on the computer putting out some fire for Willis.” Willis was her political boss. My daughter and I stood under the Milky Way and she began to talk, “I like Wanda, what do you think of her dad?”

“I think your accidental meeting with Wanda wasn’t very accidental, Jeff suspects too.” I smiled down at her, “We have a lot in common, we might get along as well as you do with her.” I had to ask, “Whatever possessed you to strip naked in the springs today, that place isn’t exactly private.”

“We could see the parking lot, if someone had come in, we would have seen and put our suits back on.”

“But Jeff and I were wandering around, didn’t you think of that?”

My daughter looked at me and grinned, “Come on Dad, you’ve seen me naked before and it doesn’t bother me, and I’ve seen you too, more than once. Wanda and I talked about if you two would see us but since you’re our daddies, it didn’t matter.”

“Jeff is not your daddy.”

“Then I bet he enjoyed the view for a few moments, didn’t you?”

Her comment caused me to pause, who the hell is this girl? “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you better go to bed.”

Choral kissed me on the cheek, “Nite Daddy, I had a good day today, love you,” then slipped back into the house leaving me alone with some new and disturbing thoughts about my daughter. That night I told Patsy my version of our day; most of the day, I left out the part where the two teens were displaying for nature and their fathers.

In the next five weeks Jeff and I took road trips on the bikes, the first we rode with two of his friends, then the second time our daughters rode with is as I led him on a favorite ride along a long mountain road. Our next trip would be Daytona Beach and Choral had been bugging the crap out of me to convince Jeff to take Wanda and her on the trip. We fathers gave in and rented an Airbnb on the beach so the girls could soak up a spring break lifestyle while Jeff and I killed the days doing bike fest stuff. Patsy was on the campaign trail with Willis and while they would be in Daytona for a quick handshake stop, she didn’t expect to be home for days.

It was a six-hour ride to Daytona so we left early on a Friday morning, school was out for Spring Break so the girls didn’t have to skip. When she came from her room my daughter caused me to stutter stare at her, she was dressed for the ride in the best biker fashion. Choral is a tad over 5’7 and weighs in around 115 with a 36” bust, and a thin waist that flared into a tight pear-shaped ass. She wore faded denim jeans that must have taken her fifteen minutes to squeeze into, a burnt red t-shirt that announced she had been to a Taylor Swift concert in 2023, under a white denim jacket.