Chapter 4

Damn! Nearly 2 weeks has gone by since I've had time to update my tale of Sweet Bridget. Some things have developed. Here goes...

She and I have had a couple of dates, which is how I'm referring to our outings, since I posted about this a couple of weeks ago. We've become social network friends and we're emailing pretty much daily. I'm also stopping in the store to see her as I always have.

Here's something fun, that's been quite titillating for me. I haven't really touched my sweet girl, other than to hug her and exchange kisses on the cheek (Something more than that did nearly happen, but I'll get to that in a bit). However, I now know something about her choices in underwear! On 2 different occasions last week, while I was visiting her at work, Bridget either bent down or squatted down behind the counter in her store. When she did, her pants rode down a bit, and I saw her undies.

​(I know this must sound so pathetically like a Middle School boy, or maybe a dirty old man talking! That's how I feel sometimes! But hey, I'm taking what I can get!)

The first time I got a glimpse, I saw that she was wearing gray cotton panties, with fairly thin, horizontal black stripes. They were very cute, and I imagined her wonderful round ass in them all that day and night.

A few days later I got another view, and this time she was wearing a black thong! Oh my, did that get my attention! I tried not to stare, but then I realized there was no one else around to catch me looking, so I drank-in the view for as long as I could. My pussy got a serious workout that night, and the next morning as I pictured her in that thong and a matching black bra. Of course, I also repeatedly imagined myself peeling those garments off of her and attacking her soft, nicely padded body. It makes me tingle down below just thinking about it. Yay! I like tingling!

Bridget and I continue to have fun together, and I'm learning more and more about her. Given things she has already said, the background she has shared recently makes some things fall into place, such as why someone as sweet as her didn't seem to have gotten too much attention at home. We talked all about it while I was driving one afternoon.

"I'm basically in the middle of two brothers who took lots of my parents' time," Bridget told me on one of our long drives.

"What was that about?" I inquired.

"Well, my older brother is really smart, athletically gifted and all that. Your basic overachiever. So they were always spending their time at his games and working with him on his homework and school projects. Then he was in honors classes in High School, and he got all kinds of scholarships, which took more of their time. And then there was the two year college search."

"Hmm ... Your basic nightmare of sibling situation," I said with a chuckle.

"More or less. Then there's my younger brother. He's a great guy, but he has some learning challenges. Keeping him as much in the mainstream as much as possible took the rest of their time. I was pretty much self-sufficient, so they figured I didn't need anything. I really don't want to sound like a drama queen, with all the middle child crap."

"Oh, Sweetheart," I said as soothingly as I could while patting her knee, "I'm sorry things were that way for you. I hope you know that you're just as worthy of your parents' time and attention as either of your brothers. I'm also glad to hear that you've tried to rise above that stuff."

"I know. But overall, it's not a big deal, Lauren."

"Of course it is, Bridget! You are so special, Honey. I really mean it. The more I've gotten to know you, the more I want to know."

"You seem like you really want to like, know me," she commented.

"I do, Bridget. So, so much."

"Why?"

Her question caught me a bit off-guard. Why? The fact that she would ask that so sincerely told me a lot about her self-esteem ... or what there is of it.

"Why?" I repeated. "I don't know how to get this to sink into that adorable little head of yours, Bridget, but you're someone worth knowing. You have so much to offer to people, to the world around you."

She turned her head and looked at me. I looked at her briefly, making sure to keep my eyes on the road.

"You really don't know me, Lauren. If you did, you might not want to know any more."

"That's ridiculous," I replied.

She was silent for a few moments, then I stole a quick look. It seemed as though she might cry.

"Why, do you want to know me anyway, Lauren? Seriously."

"Bridget, Sweetie ... I just don't know how else to explain it to you. I just, like you. I've known you for months now. Maybe I don't know everything about you. But I know a fair amount, I think. I just do. You're special, Honey. You're special to me."

She was silent again.

"Nobody's ever really wanted to get to know me before," she said softly, "unless they wanted something from me."

"Like what, Sweetie?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"You know, men, guys," she replied.

"Ohhhh..." I said. "You mean, guys have acted like they wanted, what ... a relationship?"

"Yes, pretty much."

"But what they really wanted was..."

"You know. To get in my pants."

"Mmmm ... I'm sorry about that, Bridget."

All of a sudden I was again wrestling with a dilemma, not for the first time. I really did want to know her. I do want to know her. I care about her, very genuinely. I'm absolutely certain about that. But, without her having the slightest knowledge, I also really want to get in her pants! I decided that it's O.K. for me to keep thinking about it. And I'm still confident that it's not my goal to sleep with Bridget. I'm sure of that. I knew in that moment and I know now that if being her friend means never taking another step toward her being my lover, being her friend will win-out. Phew! I feel better ;-)

"Thanks, Lauren."

"I really mean it, Bridge. You just don't deserve to be taken advantage of. You're too good a person, too good-natured, too kind and sweet. Unfortunately, I also know that's part of life. So, while I'm sorry you got your heart broken, or whatever exactly happened, I hope you learned some things along the way."

"I did, for sure. I think each time I learned a little more about how to tell who I can and can't trust."

"Well, then it wasn't for nothing, you know?"

"I know. And you know what else, Lauren?"

"What Sweetheart?"

"I think you're like, the best! I feel like you really, really care about me. And it feels so good. And I trust you."

"Oh, Bridget!" It was my turn to feel like I was gonna get teary. "Oh, Honey, thank you! And I really, really do feel that way about you. Thank you!"

"No, thank you, Lauren. And you know what else? I really, really care about you too."

Damn! What more could I ask for?

We met again the week after that, which I think was last week at the time I'm writing this. We decided to walk around a local art museum on a Sunday afternoon. It was the most leisurely, relaxing time I can remember having in a long time. It was a nice day outside, so most people were out enjoying it, which meant there weren't many around the museum, which was fine with us. We just walked and talked and looked at the exhibits. Neither of us is a huge art expert, though I'm sure I know more than her, not that it matters. Mostly we enjoyed each other's company.

One very cool thing was that we started making some physical contact. The whole time we were touching each others' hand or arm while we were talking, or showing each other things.

"Look at that!" she would say, pointing with one hand as she put the other on my shoulder.

"Oh, that's cool!" I'd reply, finding some way to return her touch.

A couple of times we took each others' hand so we could lead the other toward something we really wanted to see. And I don't think it was my imagination that we were both keeping our hands together longer than necessary sometimes. On top of that, all we did was joke around and smile and laugh the whole time. It was glorious.

Our conversation wasn't too serious, although I did learn more about her. She played soccer and field hockey in High School and was fairly good at both. She was in several serious relationships, including one with one of the guys who just wanted to get in her pants. Apparently there were 3 of those, plus 2 guys she really cared about. I was quite glad she wasn't a virgin, and also glad that she knew how to be in a relationship long term. I'm really not looking for some kid who needs to be parented. Of course ... should we end up in bed, and should the name Mommy rear it's head, I won't complain! Having said that, there was no mention of a relationship with, or an attraction to a girl. But that's not necessarily something she might tell me upfront either.

Now, here's what nearly happened. We were having a fun and playful time as I've said. We walked into an exhibit of various kinds of video art, displayed on small screens mounted behind plexiglass. Several of them were in dark little alcoves. We walked together into a couple and had to squeeze together to do so.

"Wow, it's pretty tight in here," Bridget said at one point.

"I don't think these little booths were really meant for two people," I said. "But it's kind of fun to try, isn't it?"

We both laughed as we sort of squeezed out. A minute later we were in another one, looking at a video an artist had made using images of nature. It was quite lovely. We again pushed in together to see it better.

"Nature, up close and personal," Bridget said.

"Up close and personal is kind of fun, huh?" I replied.

We laughed again, but we didn't move. We stood perfectly still, pressed against each other. We looked together at the screen.