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Balloons and streamers decked the door, and a large banner, proclaiming Happy Birthday Daddy Don, hung above it. A colourful chalkboard, set up adjacent to the door, listed the evening’s offerings: extended happy-hour, free drinks, free food, and competitions for the girls. Inside, a well-practised crew had transformed the bar into party mode. Balloons, streamers, mobiles and lanterns hung from the ceilings. The waitresses all wore party accessories – hats, and badges bearing the legend, Happy Birthday. Arranged on a table were trays of buffet food wrapped in cling film. It was the freebies that drew in the customers. In order for the evening to be profitable, it was necessary that customers arrived early, stayed late, bought a lot of drinks, and left with a girl. Daddy would put himself about greeting and glad-handing the customers, and striking up an instant familiarity. The freebies would draw the customers in, but it was the personal connection, even if of short duration, which. “I am. Here to keep you from slipping your dick into my daughter.”My eyes widened. “You're Mrs. Ramsey? Rosemary's mother?”The mother of the bride gave me a wicked grin as I sank down beside her. Then her eyes flicked down to my cock tenting my skirt. Her hand stroked up the blue, satin material to my dick. “I am. It's a pleasure to meet you, Becky.”“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ramsey,” I groaned as this delectable MILF squeezed my cock right here in the middle of the hall.And no one cared. Not the preacher standing with Kurt and his groomsmen, not the men sitting down the row who must be uncles of Rosemary. This MILF was openly squeezing me, draping over me, as the music of the wedding march struck up.I threw a glanced behind me as the bridesmaids appeared, each marching down the aisle in their purple dresses. I groaned as the mother of the bride reached beneath my skirt up and my thigh to find my cock contained in a snug pair of panties, the tip peeking out the top of the waistband..
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