Silver Pt. 14

"They're squinting."

"Never saw a blind man without his glasses before, huh?"

"Oh, no, no I haven't; I'm sorry," she replied in an uncertain tone.

"That's alright; I guess it's not every day you run into a blind man in a gentlemen's club, huh?" I chuckled.

"You really can't see?" she asked, waving her hand in front of my face.

I didn't have to see. I knew what she was doing, and could hear the change of sound as her hand passed before my face. It was skeptic people's natural reaction. I wasn't offended by their actions; it was pretty much a fact of life for me these days.

"You really can't see me," she said again, "You can't see what I have on?"

"Nope, I can't see, and I can't see what you have on either."

"Why are you here then? And more importantly, why did you ask for me?"

I reached to pick up my glass of soda and came up with nothing but air. The waitress must have moved it when she sat my meal on the table in front of me. I slowly grasped at the air, moving my hand carefully over the table. I felt a cold hand guide mine to the glass and place it on top.

"thanks," I smiled.

"No problem, but again, why did you ask for me?"

"About a month ago, a tall man and beautiful woman were here to talk to you, do you remember?" I began.

"Oh no, you're not going to try to get me to quit and go home. I'm done here, don't bother me anymore," she angrily stated.

"No, I'm not hear to talk you into anything," I calmly said while wiping my mouth with a napkin.

My sunglasses slid off of the table and onto the floor as I placed the napkin to the right of my plate. I reached down and patted the floor in an attempt to retrieve them, coming up empty after a few failed attempts.

"What the fuck!" screamed a startled BJ as her head bounced against the bottom of the table.

"What's going on here; is this guy giving you trouble BJ?" Greg's voice boomed as he rushed to the table.

"No, no, he's fine," she cried, "There's something hairy under there; a rat or something!"

"What are you talking about, Bj?" Greg asked, his voice now coming from under the table.

"A fucking rat," she screamed again.

"Hey, pretty baby, you're not a rat are you?" he asked in the same childish voice he used when petting Misty at the front door.

Greg soon reappeared from under the table, laughing out loud as he told BJ to put her tit back into her bikini top. "BJ, it's Misty, this gentleman's guide dog," he laughed, " She's adorable, aren't you pretty girl?"

"Hup, hup, Misty," I commanded, and Misty raised slowly from under the table and let out a big shake, yawn, and stretch.

"Oh my god, look at that precious face," Betty Jean exclaimed; "Look at those gorgeous eyes. Oh, you're so pretty!"

"Misty, sit, girl," I said to my beautiful pup.

"Can I pet her? Will she bite?" Betty Jean asked in an apprehensive voice.

"Go ahead, and no, she won't bite, although she may give you a tongue bath if you get your face too close to her," I chuckled.

Greg fussed over Misty for a few more minutes before beckoning off to the front door. Betty Jean, in the mean time, cooed and praised over the soft black Lab while I sat and enjoyed the sounds of a previously tense situation soften.

"What's her name again, Missy?" she asked as she continued her adoration over the dog.

"No, it's Misty, like the misty rain."

"Oh, Misty," she replied, " sorry, Misty, I thought your name was Missy!" the young girl said in an apologetic tone.

It was always funny to me how people apologized to dogs. I often wondered if the animals knew what they were saying. I was guilty of that same things a hundred times over, and always hoped they understood what I was saying.

"OK, Misty, time to lay back down," I said as I guided her back under the table.

"Awe, she's so cute," Betty Jean cooed.

"Can I just talk to you for a second? Listen, I'm not here to tell you what to do with your life, you're old enough to make your own decisions," I said as I looked across the table in her direction.

"I have to get back to work before I get into trouble; have to make money, you know?" she said.

"I want a private lap dance," I blurted out before she could slide out of the booth, "How much?"

"Your fucking kidding."

"Nope, I want one," I replied as I reached into my pocket and pulled out a bit of cash.

"It's fifty bucks, but..." she said in a timid voice.

"But nothing," I smiled.

"Jesus Christ," she sighed, "OK, how do we do this? Do I have to hold your hand or something?"

"Nope, you don't have to hold my hand, just walk and I'll tell Misty to follow you," I explained; "C'mon, Misty, time to get up."

"Ready?" Betty Jean asked as Misty gave her usual shake after getting up.

"Yep, go ahead, Misty, follow girl," I ordered the incredible guide dog.

Misty followed Betty Jean as her heels clacked on the tile floor in front of us. I was wondering what the vision in front of us looked like; I don't quite remember if I ever saw a thong bikini in real life before, but I guess I had since I did go to a strip club before I lost my sight. But, Jesus, the sight in those high heels in front of me must have been one to behold.

"OK, in here," Betty Jean instructed, "I have the door open."

"Inside, Misty," I instructed my baby.

"There's a couch in front of you; you can sit there," the young girl said, closing the door behind her.

"Misty, lay, girl."

Misty sank to the floor with a huff, letting out another long yawn before resting down her head.

"Oh my god, she is so adorable," Betty Jean softly said; "But, now, how about your dance?"

"How about you have a seat first," I suggested, patting the cushion next to me.

"What?" she gasped.

"Sit, time to talk before you do my dance," I calmly replied.

"I'm done here," she quipped in an annoying tone.

"Please," I calmly asked again, "Just give me a few minutes of your well paid time."

I felt Misty's head raise before the cushion next to me dipped, and was pleased Betty Jean was giving me some time.

"You make good money here, right?" I began.

"Yeah, pretty good, a hell of a lot more than I would be making at Walmart."

"Saving any?" I asked.

"Not yet, rent is due next week, but after that, I'll be able to put some away, why?"

"Just wondering, I always heard dancers made good money, but I didn't really know."

I was hoping she didn't know of Marlene's past and call me on it.

"You know, when I was your age, no one ever talked to me about the future or how I should invest money, and I'm guessing your parents haven't either, right?"

"You mean my mother? No, the only thing she was concerned with was what pig she would get to go to bed with her that weekend," she answered in a tense voice.

"Sorry to hear about that, I'm guessing there's no love loss between you and your mom?"

"None at all, didn't your two friends fill you in on that?" she retorted in a biting tone.

Misty quickly rose from the floor and placed her nose between me and Betty Jean. I scratched behind her ear, explaining to the young woman how Misty didn't like it when people raised their voices whether in anger, or simply cheering for a great play in a sporting match.

"I'm sorry, Misty, I didn't mean to upset you, girl," the now tender voice spoke as her hand joined mine on Misty's head.

"No, they didn't say anything, and I didn't ask, nor do I care," I calmly answered while continuing to scratch the black Lab's soft head, "But, do you think of what you'll do after all of this is over?"

"Over?"

"Yeah, when you get older, and younger girls with firmer tits and asses begin working here, throwing you out the door like you were yesterday's news?"

"Shit, I'm only twenty-two, I have awhile before I'm considered old."

"You might want to remind yourself what business you're in," I pointed out.

The room remained silent with the exception of Misty's low snore. I laughed a bit to myself, never tiring of the sounds Misty provided.

"What did you mean your parents never talking about investments with you?" she meekly asked.

Before I could answer, the sound of the doorknob turning and the young woman known as BJ instinctively jumping to straddle and taunt me could be heard. The door slammed against the wall, and Misty lunged from under my legs with a vicious growl.

"Misty, no," I yelled as I jumped to my feet and jerked on her leash as the young dancer spun to the floor.

"Down girl," I sternly commanded.

Misty immediately fell to her belly, letting out a reminder to the person standing in the doorway she was not pleased with their appearance.

"Misty, enough," I commanded once again before apologizing to the person standing in the doorway.

"What the fuck is going on here?" growled the man's voice.

Misty was having none of it and surged forward with a more vicious growl. Giving her one last correction, I realized this would be her last time out as a guide dog. She had demonstrated to me her time was up, and she no longer had the demeanor to go out in public as a working dog. I apologized once again for Misty's behavior as BJ jumped to our defense, chastising the man for interrupting a private lap dance.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, John, you prick; don't you ever barge into one of my rooms again or you'll be hearing from Linda."

I guessed Linda was someone of great importance after the man snorted out an apology to me and BJ before closing the door behind him.

"Oh Misty, you brave beautiful girl! You were going to protect me!" she gushed over the grumbling Lab.

"I had better get her home; she is officially retired," I said in a sad, dejected voice.

"You're not going to put her down, are you?" BJ objected.

"No, she will be retired from guiding me," I explained, "You know, I always knew this day would come, but I never dreamed I would feel as if I had just lost my best friend. And I never imagined it happening in a place like this."

"I'm sorry," the sniffling young woman stated before asking me if she could give Misty one last kiss.

"C'mon girl, lets go outside," I instructed Misty after handing Betty Jean Wisninski my card which contained my cat tower business.

"Give me a call if you would like to talk more," I said without looking at her, and held my hand out for Misty to begin our journey out of the club.

I have no clue how they did it; we had practiced it time and time again at the guide dog training school I attended. Without a concern in the world, I knew the beautiful, adorable, loving, and joyous black Lab would safely guide me to the very door we had entered. Misty's tags jingled as she walked through the club, turning and stopping as bar stools and patrons blocked our path to the exit.

"Michael," the female voice yelled over the music, "Over here!"

Misty pulled me aggressively to the right, walking with heightened excitement as Marlene walked to meet us.

"Are you alright, Handsome, you don't look well," she said with concern as she hugged me.

A tear formed behind my sunglasses, and soon trailed along the edge of my nose as I asked Marlene if we could get out of there.

"Is everything alright?" a man's voice said, growing louder as he approached.

"Are you speaking to me?" I asked as I pointed my index finger into my chest.

"Yes, Michael, it's me, Ed O'Neil."

"Ed, what the heck are you doing here?" I asked in a bewildered voice.

"You don't actually think I was going to leave you here by yourself, did you, Handsome?" Marlene asked as she cradled my face in her hands and softly kissed me.

"Marlene, I was fine; I didn't need anyone's help," I replied with slight agitation.

"I know," she apprehensively stated, "I just needed somebody to make sure all of these girls didn't steal you from me!"

She pinched my cheek, easing my agitation for the time being. Releasing a long breath, I submitted to my over protective love before asking one last time if we could get out of the club.

********

Misty held her head out the window as Marlene drove along the highway to my house with Ed following behind.

"Ed's going to have to wash his car by the time we get home," I chuckled, picturing the slobber splattering his hood and windshield.

I explained to Marlene the events of the past hour, telling her about our conversation at the table and private room. I told her how Misty went after the man who through the door open and inquired about the goings on in the room.

"She's done, Beautiful."

"What?" Marlene asked in astonishment.

"She's officially retired," I replied.

"Michael, why?"

"She can't threaten to attack anyone while out in public. It is just not acceptable, and even though it does happen on occasion, it's more problematic when it happens again after being corrected. She has worked past the average working life of a guide dog, and has been my rock from day one, but it's just time."

"But, what will she do now?" Marlene asked, her quivering voice now directed in my direction in the passenger seat.

"Now, she's a care free, regular, lovable couch potato," I answered with a forced grin on my face.

Marlene was quiet for the next few minutes as she coasted along the highway toward home.

"I'll still use her to walk to your house though, so don't worry about that," I said, breaking the silence in the truck.

"That's good," Marlene whispered as she laid her hand on top of mine and gave it a little squeeze.

**********

Each of us occupied a chair around my dining room table and spoke about the last hour and a half at the gentlemen's club were Ms. Barbara Jean Wisninski was currently employed. Her mother had implored Marlene to help talk some sense into her only daughter, and convince her to walk away from the club. I told Marlene and Ed how I found she was not a stupid woman, not using the word "girl" as they had when speaking of her.

"Did she say anything about her mother to the both of you when you teamed up on her last month?" I asked, letting my words sink in as they sat silent at the table.

"No, we never really got the chance to talk with her," Marlene answered in an almost shamed tone.

"Michael, we didn't team up on her," Ed added, defending their encounter with the young woman.

"Ed, what would you call it then? How would you see it from Barbara Jean's point of view when she sat down at your table and the two of you attacked with only what her mother wanted for her daughter?"

"Michael, no, it wasn't like that," Marlene instantly replied, grabbing my hand across the table.

"Sweetheart, I'm not saying it was actually like that; I'm trying to enable the both of you to put yourselves in her place. I mean, seeing Ed, a large, professional man, dressed impeccably in his suit and you, dressed to the nines in your business suit and beautiful face. I don't want to raise old scars to the surface, but do you remember what you felt when Ed confronted you when you were dancing? I mean, the two of you, as intelligent as the both of you are should have known how defensive, angry, and frightened that young woman would have been. You have to put yourselves in Betty Jean's place before you speak with her. I also want the both of you to notice, I said 'with her' and not 'to her'."

Marlene and Ed remained silent as I spoke and remained so after I finished my spiel.

"Honey instead of vinegar, right?" Marlene whispered as she squeezed my hand.

"Seems to work a bit better most of the time," I said with a smile, twisting my arm so my palm was against Marlene's.

She gave it a light scratch with her wonderful nails before I heard the sound of her chair being pushed back. The sound of the room closed off before I felt her soft lips lightly press against mine.

"Please tell me you're Marlene and not Ed," I grinned.

I heard Ed break into a hearty laugh as Marlene cupped my face in her hands and in a disbelieving, giggling voice told me she was indeed Marlene while landing another soft kiss on my lips.

I went to tell them how the meeting began, explaining how Barbara Jean thought I was a cop because I was wearing my sunglasses indoors. I told them how I let her know I was blind after I removed them and she asked what was wrong with my eyes. She tested me by waving her hand in front of my face, before asking if I could see what she was wearing.

"I knew I was making progress when I was having a problem locating my glass of soda on the table," I said; "After a few misses, she gently took my hand and placed it around it. I'll never forget how cold her hands were; it bothered me for some reason. I forget how, but I knocked my glasses off of the table and leaned down to find them on the floor. I came up empty once again, and apparently she felt bad, went under the table, and smacked her head against the bottom of the table as she screamed in horror. The bouncer rushed to her aid, asking her if I were bothering her as she continued screaming about a rat."

I laughed as I told Marlene and Ed how Greg, the bouncer, looked under the table and saw Misty laying there.

"The Ice was broken, and our conversation was easier as she fussed over Misty."

As soon as Misty heard her name, her nose appeared on Marlene's lap under the table.

"You're not a rat, pretty girl, are you?" Marlene cooed while still giggling.

I ended my story explaining how I spoke to her in the private room about finances, the future, and life in general.

"She was about to answer a question of mine when that baboon burst into the room and faced an unhappy black Lab. I handed her my card and told her to call me if she ever wanted to speak again, or if she ran into any problems. She hugged and kissed Misty before we left the room. Well, that's about it, hopefully she'll think about the things we spoke about, and possibly call me to answer my unanswered question."

"Do you think she would consider any form of counseling?" Ed asked.

"Maybe you should direct the counseling toward her mother instead," I simply replied.

**********

"I love you so much, Michael," Marlene whispered as she slipped under the covers and snuggled into me.

"I love you so much too," I replied as I brushed her hair back and gently rested my lips upon hers, "I'm sorry about today."

"Sorry about what?"

"How direct I was with you and Ed; I didn't mean to sound so demeaning."

"Handsome, you were in no way demeaning; you told us what we needed to hear. You know, sometimes, we all forget to put ourselves in the other person's shoes, and just rush in, guns a blazing, proclaiming guilt before the defense has been heard."

"Yeah, that's kind of how I heard it last month when you told me about your visit. But, you know, I feel especially bad about bringing up your past."

"No, no, I needed to hear that; I needed to hear where I was at that point of my life. It grounded me."

"OK, now can we talk about something else?" I asked.

"Sure, Handsome, what would you like to talk about?" she asked.

"Let's talk about how much I adore you, about how I'm going to smother your entire body with kisses. How I'm going to lick and suck your beautiful brown nipples, slowly work my way down your stomach, and eat your pussy until you beg me to stop."

Marlene's leg was already straddling my thigh, and slowly grinding against it as she moaned as she listened to my verbal onslaught of what I had planned.

"Oh yes, Michael, that sounds like a wonderful idea," she whimpered as the pressure on my thigh increased.

And that's what happened; everything I said, I did, bringing her to her first orgasm while caressing, licking, and sucking her beautiful tits, her second while kissing, licking, and loving her pussy with my tongue. Rolling her over to ride my face for her third , with a few added spasms after she threw herself onto the mattress gasping for air. Our evening came to completion after making gentle, passionate love, no longer counting, or caring about the remaining climaxes.