A Night Out With The Preacher’s Daughters: Part II

Here’s a link to Part I of A Night Out With The Preacher’s Daughters.

Part II

What happens in the van stays in the van.

My van was an old maroon Dodge Caravan with a non-working radio, a “Jesus” tag on the front, and one of those Christian fish things on the rear window.  It wasn’t your typical or ideal party mobile, but we made good use of it.  Admittedly this was not my first time driving under the influence, but it is something that I’ll never do again.

On the way out of the bar, HW (Horse Whisperer) grabbed some guy that needed a ride home and he ended up in the van with us.  While driving him home I turned around and saw that he & HW were fucking in my back seat.  Then HW yells for my sister to come back there and help her out.  Help her out?  With what?!  I remember thinking, good Lord what’s wrong with these girls?  (Then I remembered that I was the instigator of the entire drunken night and just decided to go with it.)  My sister then climbed into the back seat with them.  That was my first time viewing tag-team sex (not to be confused with threesomes).  Tag-team sex is not for me, but it sure was interesting to witness.

The guy asked me several times, even pleading at one point, to join in, but I just told him that I was just the driver and that’s all I’d be doing, driving.  I probably wasn’t doing a very good job at that anyway, but that was my story and I stuck to it.  Ok, I did reach back at one point, to shut him up, and grabbed his cock.  I yelled out, “Good grief, is that as hard as that thing is going to get?!”  He had a decent sized cock, but it was only half erect.  How were they even having sex back there?  I later found out that there wasn’t much intercourse actually going on due to his temporary erectile dysfunction.

Remember, my radio didn’t work, so I could vividly hear everything that was going on in the back seat.

HW yelled for me to stop so that she could get into the front passenger seat so I pulled over on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.  HW got out of the sliding side door and my sister stayed in the back with Snake.  I call him Snake because that’s what he reminded me of.  He was 40-ish, skinny, shaved head, covered in tattoos and not that attractive, but then again I was drunk and didn’t really get that good of a look at him.  He looked to me like he just came from a Skinhead or KKK meeting.  That alone was enough to scare me to the point where I just wanted to get him home and out of my van as soon as possible.

When I stopped for HW to get into the front seat she just stood by the front passenger door for a minute.  She said, “Oh my Lord, I don’t have any pants on!”  She didn’t have any underwear on either.  I kept yelling at her to just get in, but we all thought it was hilarious that she was standing on the side of the road with nothing on but a shirt.  Looking back it was pretty funny.  I mean how many times do you get to see one of your friends drunk and standing on the side of the road by an old beat up Jesus minivan with no pants or underwear on?  It was priceless.

We finally got HW back in the van and then got Snake home.  This was no easy feat because he was just as drunk as the rest of us and could barely remember how to get back to his own house.  It was in the middle of nowhere on some little back country dirt road.  As soon as I stopped the van they flung open the sliding door and pushed him out of the van butt-ass-naked, holding his clothes in a pile in front of him.  As we laughed and watched his bare ass walk toward his trailer, clothes in hand and in front of his crotch, a girl came out of the front door and started walking towards him.  My sister yells “Go, Ginger, go! We’re gonna get shot!”  HW however wanted to stick around and see what the girl was going to do to him.  The mystery girl didn’t seem angry when she came out, but you never know about these backwoods “Deliverance” types sometimes.  I decided to follow my sister’s advice. During those few seconds when my foot was headed to the pedal, I had a flashback of all my afternoons spent watching the Dukes of Hazzard.  I hit the accelerator as hard as I could, spun around leaving a cloud of dust behind me, and sped away.  Yeehaw!  I felt my blood pumping, my heart pounding, and my flight or fight reflexes kicking in.  It was the best adrenaline rush I’ve ever felt.  As I turned on to the main road I screamed out, “That was fun! Let’s do it again!”

Just three good ol’ girls having a good ol’ time.

To be continued…

7 thoughts on “A Night Out With The Preacher’s Daughters: Part II

  1. Pingback: A Night Out With The Preacher’s Daughters: Part III « Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

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  5. Pingback: Sibling Rivalries: The preacher’s daughters from hell. | Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

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