Bridget

We also went for a carriage ride around the village. I can honestly say that it was a total blast considering the fact that she grasped my right arm the entire time like we were an actual couple. The elderly coachman who took us down the cobblestone roads even spoke like he was from out of old times, which was actually kind of charming in its own way. He had asked if we wanted to "go for a journey on his susurrous carriage," and when we passed some rather bothersome children, he spoke about the "discordant din" coming from them. It felt like I was in a simpler time and place...and I was truly enjoying myself.

Around four o'clock, we had an early supper at the diner as Cathy served us each one of her specially cooked burgers. I took note of how the usually grouchy lady even winked at my friend after noticing how we were spending the day together. I like to think that the old cook approved of me.

As the day unfortunately began to wind down to a close, I figured I could maybe do a little of the work I had traveled to this remote village to carry out as Bridget went to her job. I wasn't sure if she would extend the invitation for me to stay at her place again, so I thought it would be in my best interest to maybe get a room at the small inn she had shown me.

We ended up back at the brunette's serene dwelling where she started getting ready for her evening job. She told me to erase the thought of renting a room since I was more than welcome to crash at her place again, so that was certainly a nice turn of events. She also told me I was more than welcome to any of the food in her fridge, and if there was anything else in her home that I needed, I could help myself to it.

I noticed that right before the sweet woman was getting ready to leave, she was in the same attire she had spent the day with me wearing. I wondered why she hadn't changed clothes, but it dawned on me that there were probably dressing rooms at the club...and it's not like it really mattered what she wore since most of it would be coming off. I couldn't help but feel something akin to jealousy as the fantastic female was preparing to leave.

I stood in Bridget's living room and can't deny that I was checking out her cute bottom as she bent down to put her shoes on. When she stood back up and was saying her goodbyes while reaching for the doorknob, her face suddenly lit up as she spun around to face me and exclaimed, "Hey! I have a great idea!"

I was glad she hadn't spotted me checking out her caboose. I stood straight and acted like I hadn't done anything unsavory as I replied, "What is it? It must be pretty good since you seem so excited."

"It is!" Bridget energetically called out. "I think you'll like it, too!"

I won't lie: Her intensity was as infectious as her smile. "Well, don't keep me in suspense!"

"How would you feel about coming with me to the strip club, Marcus? I could strut my stuff on stage and dedicate it to you!" The magnificent woman slyly smiled at me as she added, "And just think about it: You could take a look at my ta-tas and not feel bad about it!" She laughed after making the proclamation.

Wow. Saying that this wasn't the best offer I had had in many years would be another fabrication of the truth. Just like the previous day, I was getting hard just from the considerate overture.

Bridget placed her hands behind her back and leaned forward a bit. "Well...? I wouldn't have figured it'd take you more than a second or two to answer!"

"I...I would be honored to come watch you perform," I finally answered my new friend. For someone with such a modest upbringing as myself, it felt weird to be invited along so I could see her topless, but at the same time, I realized she didn't have much to hide since she showed her boobs off for a living. I would basically be putting a few coins in her pocket while obtaining some satisfaction myself. We would be doing each other a favor.

Bridget laughed at my response and replied, "Oh, Marcus! You sound like a frightened teenager all of a sudden! It's not like you haven't seen boobs before!"

Was it that obvious that her query had caught me off guard? Yes, I had seen and played and had fun with my share of boobs in the past...but I hadn't been around any in quite some time. I know it wasn't like I was going to get to touch them or anything of the like, but I wasn't a normal frequenter of strip clubs. The only time I ever set foot in one was to obtain information...and I know this will sound abnormal coming from a perfectly red-blooded male, but I never paid attention to the dancers when I had entered them in the past. If I was strolling into one to seek out any kind of intelligence, I was strictly there to do my job.

"Come on!" Bridget motioned for me to accompany her as she looked to be getting more excited at the prospect of dancing for me. "If it means anything to you, it's a reputable club and nothing shady ever happens! It's not like people are having sex on stage or anything!"

"I'm not a prude, Bridget," I reminded my friend since I had seen quite a few bizarre happenings in my life. It wasn't like seeing a few random people break out into a sexual act was going to scar me or anything.

"Then quit acting like one!" The lovely brunette giggled as she reached for me and pulled me toward the doorway. "I promise you'll have fun!" She paused while I put my shoes on for only a moment before adding, "Of course, you're not allowed to ogle the other girls when I'm not on stage, okay? Just me!" She followed up her demands by laughing.

I was thrilled and nervous at the same time. I wondered how the night was going to go...

* * *

For an adult who's claimed to have seen so much in life, I felt quite out of place.

While the club wasn't exactly overflowing with clientele since it was a small town, I was still receiving dirty looks from most of the older men since I was walking around the dimly lit area with a glass of water instead of a can of beer. I didn't mind since I knew I could hold my own against each and every person present if any brawls broke out...not that I thought any would. I'm obviously not the kind of guy who frequents bars or anything of the like, so my experience with them comes from television and movies. I'm not naïve enough to think a fight breaks out each and every night in one.

There was a stage at one end of the room with a long catwalk that stretched through a good portion of the vast chamber. There were circular tables set up here and there, and the lights were low in order to set the mood. A bar was situated at the opposite end of the room near the entrance to the club, and most of the men found within were fifty plus years of age. I think the bartender was the only person close to my age.

There were a few women with some of the men, but they also looked to be past their prime. A lot of them were sagging in certain areas, and I'm pretty sure I was the only person in the entire club who didn't smoke. I honestly wasn't sure how Bridget was able to work in such a place.

I suppose I make the establishment sound pretty sleazy, but in reality, it was a rather tidy place. I think since I wasn't used to hanging around such people, I was maybe a little biased. I'm sure it comes as no surprise when I say I stuck out like a sore thumb.

As kind as the bartender was, I'm sure he was getting a little fatigued with the constant conversation I was engaging in with him. I'm fairly certain he was wondering why I wasn't more focused on the hooters up on stage, but if I'm being perfectly honest, I had no desire to see any of them except for the two that belonged to Bridget. I had no interest in anyone but her.

It was a little past eight o'clock when I suddenly noticed something I hadn't spotted before. Through the haze and semidarkness, I looked toward the northeast corner of the room and saw a table sequestered away in the dark nook. As I squinted in order to see through the thick smoke, I could see a solitary figure seated behind the table with his back to the wall. Unlike everyone else in the club, he wore a black cloak with a hood pulled over his head. It went without saying that the man set off alarms in my head and looked terribly out of place.

I turned to the bartender from the stool I sat on and pointed back toward the secluded corner with my right thumb. Referring to the suspicious man, I asked, "Ever seen that guy in here before?"

"Can't say that I have," the kind bartender responded. "We get all kinds, though, so he's probably just a traveler...much like yourself."

I caught the last line and realized I didn't exactly have room to talk since it was my first time in the Treasure Chest also. Still, I wasn't hiding myself under a cloak and sitting away from the club's other patrons. Something didn't sit well with me.

"He does have a somewhat unpleasant air about him," the bartender told me as he picked up a mug and cleaned it off with a towel. "Maybe it's the fact that he's keeping his face hidden, but something about him feels...unkosher."

I didn't want to start any trouble, but I decided it wouldn't hurt to walk over and strike up some conversation. I wasn't even halfway across the room when the next dancer was suddenly announced...and Bridget made her way onto the stage dressed in a red bra, red panties, and red heels that contrasted with her amethyst necklace. I shouldn't have to say that she looked amazing and probably caused multiple erections at once as she made her way down the catwalk. The woman clearly knew how to strut her stuff.

As much as I wanted to watch Bridget, I continued to make my way toward the mysterious man in the corner. When I finally reached his lonely section of the room, I noticed a nearby chair and motioned toward it as I asked, "Mind if I join you, friend?"

I didn't receive a verbal answer. The man looked in my direction, but it was too dark to see his face.

I grabbed the chair and brought it over to his table. "Pretty girl up there on the stage," I pointed out the obvious as I set the chair on the opposite side of the table. "Wouldn't mind seeing her tits," I said as I was about to sit down. I felt dirty speaking about Bridget like she was an object and not a person.

"I didn't say you could sit there," a voice that sounded like it emanated from the very depths decisively told me.

At least I was finally getting something out of him. I remained focused on him as I suddenly heard some whistling and some coins clinking onto the stage behind me. I assumed Bridget had popped her top off since she was receiving a tremendous ovation. I wanted nothing more than to turn and look, but the man before me had me on edge. I was actually worried about the safety of the others in the establishment...especially the dancer making her way down the catwalk. "Oh, I promise to not get in the way of your view," I pledged. Even though it was a lie, I then added, "I wouldn't want to block out a beauty like..."

"What don't you understand?" The man hissed as he made a fist and slammed it on the table. The funny thing about him was that he was probably smaller than I was. He couldn't have been much more than five and a half feet tall, and there was no way he pushed a hundred and fifty pounds. Still, he came off as having a sinister aura about him and managed to send a chill down my spine.

Keeping my cool, I was about to fire back a response to try to calm the enigmatic figure, but I suddenly heard an angered shout followed by my name being called out. I turned around just in time to see Bridget holding an arm over her bare chest as she kicked at a man who was leaning across the walkway and trying to grab her by the right ankle.

I bolted over and placed a hand on the massive shoulder in front of me. I used every iota of my strength to spin the man around...and found myself looking into the bewildered eyes of Rutger as Bridget retreated off the catwalk and toward the backstage area. I didn't want to get violent, but I wanted nothing more than to clock the old pervert. It seemed like no matter where Bridget went, this bastard wouldn't leave her alone.

My reluctance to throw the first punch almost landed me in a world of hurt. Rutger hauled off with a wild right, but I managed to duck under it so I could prepare to fire back one of my own. My larger rival was a foot taller than me, so I didn't aim for his noggin; I sent a flurry of rights and lefts into his breadbasket in order to stun him, and once he was hunched over and trying to catch his breath, I knocked his ass out with a well-placed crescent kick to the side of his head.

Of course, the ruckus didn't go unnoticed by everyone else in the club. Bridget's withdrawal from the stage riled up a good number of the clientele, but the fact that I was taking down one of the town's residents didn't seem to sit well with the locals. I firmly believe that if the bartender hadn't made his way out from behind the counter to act as the voice of reason, I may have been in for quite an unpleasant night.

As it was, I was being booted out of the place and told not to return. The bartender stood between me and the mob who wanted my head on a platter, but I was more concerned about the intentions of the hooded man...who was no longer even in the establishment. I looked all over the place through the smoke and semidarkness, but I couldn't spot him anywhere. During my bout of fisticuffs with good ol' Rutger, the cloaked stranger had apparently slipped out of the club. That didn't sit well with me since I clearly didn't trust a man who would walk into a strip joint with his face shrouded by a hood.

I meandered through the empty streets with my hands in my pockets. I was sure that Bridget had heard news of my outburst, and I prayed I hadn't landed her in some kind of trouble. The last thing I wanted was for her to be reprimanded for something she didn't have any part of. I continued to wander for a good ten minutes while thinking of the enigmatic character who had been solitarily seated in the dark corner.

Imagine my surprise when I heard a voice that had managed to sneak up behind me. "Marcus!"

I spun around and laid eyes on one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. "Bridget!" She had a long coat draped over her shoulders and was holding it closed over her chest. I could see that she apparently hadn't put on regular clothes since the coat came down to the middle of her thighs...and her legs were bare with the exception of the heels she had worn on the stage.

The beautiful brunette let out a sigh as she rolled her eyes and made her way past me. She apparently wanted nothing to do with me at the moment.

Confusion set in as I followed Bridget and asked her, "Are you all right? I heard you call out when Rutger attacked you..."

The agitated female swung around right where we walked down the middle of the cobblestone street as she informed me, "He wasn't attacking me, Marcus! He's just an old letch who was trying to cop a feel just like he always does! I kick him away and he gets the message!"

I was still baffled since my friend was clearly upset with me. "But I heard you calling out my name..."

"Of course I did!" The bountiful brunette replied. "I had just ripped my top off and was hoping to get a reaction out of you since you were the only guy in the place I wanted to impress! I called out to you because I was frustrated that you weren't even looking!"

Holy crap. How could I screw up so badly? I had been so focused on the suspicious stranger that I didn't even think for one second that Bridget probably dealt with grabby customers on a nightly basis. It sickened me to think that so many raunchy old men would try touching her, but I knew the brunette well enough to know that she could take care of herself. She had been kicking Rutger away...

"I'm going home," Bridget sternly told me as she turned to walk down the quiet, cobblestone road. "You're still invited to stay with me, but in the future, use a little tact in situations like that, okay?"

I knew my new friend was still mad at me, but she wasn't going to make me spend the night at the All the Way Inn. I was sure that she knew I wanted nothing more than to protect her, and knocking the sense out of Rutger couldn't have upset her too much. I hoped we could sleep the incident off and things would go back to normal in the morning.

Like a scolded puppy dog, I followed the agitated brunette back to her house with my tail between my legs.

* * *

It had been an awkward night. Bridget allowed me to sleep next to her again, but she went straight to bed after claiming she was tired. Unfortunately, the morning was just as strained.

After waking up from a slumber that wasn't as satisfying as the previous night's, I realized I was alone in the bed. Judging from the sunlight filtering in through the window, it was certainly earlier in the day than it had been when I awakened the day before. When I finally stumbled off the bed with a yawn, I saw I was certainly correct since a clock on the nightstand told me it wasn't yet nine o'clock.

I made my way down the staircase and through the living room. As I rounded the corner and glanced into the dining room, I saw Bridget sitting alone with a bowl of oatmeal in front of her. She was slowly working on it as her eyes met mine...and then journeyed to the spot directly to her left. Even though she was still mad at me, she had a bowl sitting on the table for me along with a glass of milk.

"Good morning," I told the beautiful brunette as I pulled the chair next to her out. I took a seat after she nodded her greeting to me and went back to her breakfast.

I'm not going to pretend that I know everything there is to know about the female of the species. Sure, I had come a long way in my time and picked up on quite a bit throughout the last fifteen years of my life, but as I dipped my spoon into the bowl in front of me and scooped out some of the oatmeal within, I could feel the tension in the room...and glancing over at the beautiful brunette to my right only confirmed my suspicions. When I met her gaze, she looked away from me...and when I'd look her way again, the same thing would happen.

She was still pissed.

I liked Bridget...I liked her a lot. It wasn't just because of her sweetness and outgoing personality, but also because she was the kind of person we all need at least one of in our lives. She would give a stranger the shirt off her back. Hell, I had only known her for all of twenty minutes when she told me I could stay at her place, and it wasn't like she was inviting me because she was that kind of woman. She had given me a roof over my head because she could see that I truly needed one. How many people would drop what they were doing to help a fellow human being they knew next to nothing about?

I was well aware of the awkward position I was placing the two of us in, but I suddenly set my spoon down in my bowl and glanced over at the bitter brunette. I could plainly see the grimace on her face, but I decided to brave it as I asked, "Did I do something else to upset you, Bridget?" This had to be about more than my outburst on Rutger.

My usually happy hostess shot me one of those looks like "are you kidding me right now?" She also put her spoon down and actually shoved her bowl back a few inches as she legitimately retorted, "Are you kidding me right now, Marcus?"

Uh-oh. I hadn't been anticipating any kind of attitude. I had been around displeased females before...and it was generally never pretty. I could deal with a little agitation here and there, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who believes it helps to know why the distressed party is so upset. I thought after she had laid into me on the street the night before, the worst of it would be over. "Um...I feel that an apology is in order, so I apologize."