Bridget in Blackbridge (Night One)

“Absolutely not! I’m not worried about my clock ticking down because I don’t need children in my life. You people have plenty enough for me to play Auntie Brina to,” the dark-haired woman declared between sips of her Lemon Drop.

“Bullshit! Everyone gets that urge to at least play pregnancy roulette for at least a short time,” the older of the two blondes argued. “Look at Bee’s grade.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Bridget responded, spilling a portion of her Appletini in the process. The apparent drunken move caught the attention of a group of mid-to-late twentysomethings near the bar. A dark blond rubbed his fingers together in the air for his barmates’ benefit. “None of us played preggo roulette. We got knocked up because of the antibiotic clusterfuck.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Shelly Wexler, the older blonde, shot back before stirring her Cosmopolitan. A summer blonde with blue eyes, large breasts, and a firm ass, Shelly was the oldest of the three women at forty-three years old. While technically separated, she’d been the first at the table to break off her marriage. “Your squad is infamous, with that being just one reason. Clearly, I can’t blame Rachel; she’s basically the mom to everybody. So it will have to be Sela, the latchkey mother. Never around to help take care of her charges.”

“Nuh-uh! Tell me you didn’t visit our practices more often without telling me. Tinny named Sela our Wicked Stepmother. She yelled at us constantly with put-downs, only to show up occasionally for an extravagant outing or with expensive gifts. The one thing you can’t call her is a deadbeat. Sure, she missed some things, but Gabby loved to work with Rach on fundraisers,” Bridget argued.

“Yes, I am aware of my cheersister’s carwash idea,” Shelly stated, rolling her eyes. “And she never got that idea from me. I knew how to conduct sexy yet tasteful carwashes.”

“My squad learned to be safe because of the Terror Squad,” Sabrina Rinaldi proclaimed. “No unexpected baby bumps for Bee’s crop of Babybees, but we also scrapped for money because so many fundraisers go put off-limits.”

An Italian-American, with long, black hair, dark-brown eyes, medium-to-large breasts, and a fit ass, Sabrina sat at the bottom of the age bracket at thirty-eight, two years younger than Bridget. A competent yet fiery leader, she’d basically been the perfect example of Bridget and Tinsley’s influence.

“Oh, that’s a fabulous name,” Shelly noted, laughing. “Who coined it again?”

“I think Zita and Haley jointly came up with it. And they did so with pride,” Bridget revealed about two of the juniors on the squad during her captaincy.

All three women sitting around the nightclub table were former cheer captains. Often called the greatest captain in Honey Hollow High history, Shelly came first, but a direct link carried her to the other women. Her younger cheersister, whom she mentored, had been Gabriela, who took Bridget under her wing before she did the same for Sabrina. The latter had driven down behind Bridget to Blackbridge for the weekend from Honey Hollow. The plan was for all three women to go out for dinner and drinks tonight before crashing at Shelly's. Sabrina would peel off tomorrow night for dinner and a night with a vaguely referred-to guy friend from her law school days. With a court hearing scheduled for Monday morning, she intended to book a hotel room on Sunday to stay overnight for her client's case. The two blondes had a double date of sorts lined up for Saturday with friends of Shelly's coworker at WBRD, the popular news station where she occasionally appeared as a legal analyst.

“Hey, how do you know this guy you’re meeting tomorrow night won’t strike baby fever in you?” Shelly prodded, returning the conversation to the mystery man, which set off the biological clock bickering.

“For one, he’s merely a friend-with-benefits who is not father material,” Sabrina explained, causing Bridget to let out a cackle and comment about that being precisely when you get knocked up. “Second, I’ve dealt with poopy pants, vomit-projecting, and nose-picked brats enough to know that I don’t want kids.”

“I’m sorry that my kids threw up a lot. Is that why you don’t come around more often to see them?” Bridget inquired. “I can assure you that’s long in the past.”

“Only when they don’t drink as you do,’ Shelly remarked.

“Peyton is usually the one holding Lana’s hair, and Sean is a good boy.”

“I still buy Gabby’s theory that the hospital switched your kids on you. No way those two have your genes,” the blonde attorney and news personality argued.

“No, that’s not the reason why I didn’t stop by more often until this last month. I’m busy with work. Your kids also have plenty of other surrogate aunts, and I never cared for Leo,” Sabrina listed.

“Can’t blame you on the Leo part. Gawd, he could be annoying back in school,” Shelly recalled.

“I guess my kids do have a lot of Auntie This and Auntie That,” Bridget conceded. Glancing around, she spotted the dark blond appearing to harass an auburn-haired man in his group. The poor guy seemed to agree to get the next round of drinks while shyly glancing over an athletic brunette standing in a similar group of twentysomething women.

“That’s why I use my time to visit Wednesday and Tanith’s kids. Lemon has Jack and Jillian’s kids, while Regina is always around Rachel and Cassie’s,” the younger ex-captain explained.

“Hang now. Tanith’s rugrats are my family. You don’t get to claim my turf,” Shelly warned about her younger cousin and Sabrina’s co-captain.

“Please. I’m Auntie Brina to them while you’re just their mom’s cousin with too much makeup on.”

“I was about to go on-air!” Shelly pointed out before turning to explain what happened to Bridget. “Tanith brought them to the station when they visited town. She said they might find it more exciting.”

“Really? They have plenty of fun when they run down the halls at the firm. Emma allows it on the criminal side of the place,” Sabrina clarified.

“I would’ve thought that Clarence loved their screams and messy hands,” Bridget stated straightly before bursting into laughter at the thought of Clive’s uptight older brother stomping out of his office like a toddler preparing for a tantrum. Sabrina elbowed her old mentor as several young professionals watched the buxom blonde like a hawk.

“That’s another stuffy one. Sheesh,” Shelly commented. “Yet, he was shocked that Clive didn’t want to spend every single day around him.”

“Let’s go back to Regina for a second. What’s this I hear about Judge Jinkerson banning you two from court at the same time?” Bridget queried.

“That’s not what happened. Did Rachel tell you that?” Sabrina asked.

“Gabby heard the story from Rach.”

“Ah, mystery already solved. Never believe any story told secondhand to you by that one,” Shelly declared, giggling at a memory.

“So, what did happen? Does Cappy Bee need to get involved?”

“Judge Jinkerson merely threatened to hold us in contempt and sanction us next time. That man overreacts. It’s just a friendly competition,” Sabrina said, dismissively.

“That’s not what Rach called it. Clive used the word vicious,” Bridget passed along. “The two of you always got way too into competing against one another. Tin and Tanith were the only ones who could keep the fighting in check.”

“Vicious is a strong word. We prefer rough and tumble,” Sabrina joked. “Clarence called it embarrassing, but Emma didn’t mind. She likes that I fight tooth and nail for my clients. But big brother had to go complaining to Clive, so now, in any case that I’m on, Winona replaces Regina. Makes the job boring.”

“And it probably gives Hayden a headache. Let the man have some peace,” Bridget said about her protégé’s other superior. Downing the rest of the cocktail that she hadn’t spilled, the blonde stood up. “Time for the little girls’ room. Anyone need another drink?”

“I could use one by the time you get back,” Shelly said, while Sabrina claimed she was good for now.

Fifteen minutes later, the dark-haired ex-captain waved over with her nearly empty glass to place an order when Bridget finally exited the restroom. The line had been a killer, reminding her why she sometimes hated going out. Far easier to drink wine over at Rachel’s or Shayla’s. Another line at the bar awaited her, as did the same young professional group that had been ogling the cougars up for the past hour.

“They say dating is a numbers game, so I just saved you a lifetime.”

The pickup line came less than one minute into her wait and from the direction of the young professionals. Precisely, the line came from the dark blond who appeared to be the alpha male of the group, or at least that’s what he wanted people to think. A tight shirt shoved off his physique while a day’s old stubble lent to his rugged image. Immediately, Bridget could tell by his smirk that the pickup line and total package had succeeded in the past with women around her age.

“Are you a doctor?” Bridget asked, putting on her best impression of a ditzy blonde.

“I’m certainly qualified to give you mouth-to-mouth,” the young man stated confidently. “I’m Huston. It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

Bridget allowed the cocky office worker to pick up her hand. Obviously, he planned to kiss it after she told him her name. However, she had other intentions.

“I’m a doctor, and one who’s only giving you a very painful rectal exam tonight if you touch me again,” Bridget announced loudly to the watching group of young women while twisting Huston’s arms around quite painfully.

“Hey! Easy, bitch! Oww!” The final pain howl came when Bridget slammed her high heel down on his foot for calling her a bitch.

“What would you like?” a Latina bartender inquired, allowing Bridget to jump the line after witnessing the commotion. After hearing the order, she leaned over to whisper the best one could in a loud nightclub. “Nice work. He and his buddies come in here every weekend. Most of them are obnoxious with a capital O.”

“Hopefully, I clipped his balls for a bit,” Bridget replied.

“Probably not. They work at some finance place downtown. Always bragging about making money. Too many girls eat it up,” the bartender revealed. “Shitty tippers, too.”

Thanking the bartender for the speedy service, Bridget gladly accepted the tray for the three mixed drinks. Turning around, he made sure to pass the group of young women, particularly the athletic brunette, who appeared to be the clique’s leader.

“I’d stay far away from that one, girls. His type, you regret in the morning or in nine months,” Bridget warned before returning to her table up a half-level.

“Trouble?” Shelly inquired.

“Nah. Merely a bird too big for his britches.”

“Damn, that brings back memories.” Sabrina giggled after hearing the pickup line the guy used. “‘He’s lucky you didn’t knee him in the dick.”

“He’s not bad looking,” Shelly remarked. “What? I figure you need to let loose with your freaky Fallon gene or whatever. That is what this weekend is about, right?”

“Now, you know you need to word things precisely, Attorney Wexler. That’s the Fallon Freak Gene, as coined by its creator,” Sabrina pointed out.

“Tinsley?”

“Tinny,” Bridget confirmed. “Don’t give me that look. You’re just pissy that I shot down Brandyn after one dance.”

“Brandyn with a Y. Don’t forget the Y. He made sure to bring it up four times,” Sabrina reminded.

“Speaks volumes about how far our legendary captain has fallen,” Bridget teased.

“I’m not pissy. Just a little annoyed by how quickly you shot down tonight’s option. I did spend time asking around for a solid fling for you,” Shelly admitted.

“Sorry, but Brandyn with a Y wasn’t going to cut it. Not with his non-existent package.”

“What? No way!”

“Way. I felt nothing there. So, either he’s got a tiny dick, or he’s a grower who needs to really get excited to grow,” Bridget speculated.

“If he’s got a dick, then he’s a corpse. You put the moves on him that should’ve woken the dead,” her former cheersister stated.

“But Lilly said…no, he can’t be. Are you sure? Damn! If Lilly from the office thinks Brandyn is big, she’s about to get an eye-opener next weekend. That poor girl needs a real cock,” the gorgeous blonde said mostly to herself before readdressing Bridget. “Don’t worry. Tomorrow’s date shouldn’t disappoint. Ty is one of Luc’s good friends.”

“Luc Rissler, right? That newish sports reporter at BRD?” Sabrina double-checked.

“That’s the one. Luc is twenty-eight and in tip-top shape. All his friends are, so stamina won’t be a problem for Bedsheets,” Shelly teased. “And just like all of Luc’s friends, Ty was a very successful athlete at his small college. Won a few rewards. Quite a natural.”

“And there we have it,” Bridget remarked, causing Shelly to question her response. “Brina?”

“As hardworking lawyers, we both know the signs, correct? That’s now the third time tonight that you’ve referred to this Ty in that precise language.”

“Don’t forget that she used that same description on the phone to me earlier this week,” Bridget added.

“So? He was a gifted athlete for his competition level.”

“Your response, Ms. Defendant, sounds scripted. It’s almost as if you hope to use it as a misdirect,” Sabrina theorized.

“Avoiding something, are we?” Bridget pressed the attack. “Why won’t you mention the sport? If it had been more than one, surely you would’ve mentioned that in the spiels you keep cutting.”

“I’m not cutting…Fine! Ty was a track and field star. Happy?” Groans followed. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“What sport you end up playing is often an indicator of what lies below the beltline. Not so much for high school, but it is often the case for college sports,” Sabrina announced.

“That’s not true. Is it?” Shelly asked, watching as the two women nodded. “Wait, you got knocked up in your first semester, Bee. How would you have any experience?”

“We have many friends, and I have a daughter with wild, if not slutty, friends. They pass along their findings. While not an absolute, there are trends.”

“Bee is right. Let’s look at basketball. If he’s a big man at a major school, then he probably has a big cock. Football is more hit-or-miss due to the large rosters, but they tend to be at least average. Peer pressure will weed out the below-average fellows from the locker room. Baseball is iffy, too, but those guys tend to be a positive experience. Now, if this Ty had been a swimmer or diver, then you hooked up Bee with a beast,” Sabrina said, analyzing the prospects.

“It’s a known fact that those tiny speedos eliminate the miniature men fast,” Bridget stated. “Track and field usually gets the discards.”

“I don’t know about that,” Shelly argued. “Wait, what about soccer?”

“This is America, Attorney Wexler,” Sabrina scoffed. “Case closed.”

“While it might be growing in popularity, soccer doesn’t get the cream of the crop. It’s a nonfactor in this discussion,” Bridget clarified the argument.

“And Bee would never slum like that,” Sabrina added, looking aghast at the possibility.

“Yep, right, totally. This is why you girls were known as the Terror Squad. Fucking unbelievable,” Shelly muttered. “Look, just give Ty more than one dance tomorrow night. The two guys are taking us out to dinner. I don’t need Luc holding you against me for trashing his friends. Besides, I’m trying to shake the dust off your rusty boots.”

“I’m not going to promise to fuck a guy I haven’t even met yet,” the still-married doctor proclaimed.

“Hey, who says Bee is dusty and rusty? According to The Adventures of the Hung and Restless, she’s getting crazy sex,” Sabrina said before giggling.

“Oh, please no. Don’t bring that up,” Bridget groaned.

“Based on those stories, you always bring it up…to full mast,” Shelly cracked.

“Who knew Tinny should’ve been a romance writer,” Sabrina said.

“Romance? Try smut!” Shelly clarified. “I’m basically a divorcee over here, so I’m limited in options, but wow, Tinsley gets quite steamy with these stories. I need a regular man for booty calls after reading what she writes about you. Honestly, I didn’t think she had the attention span to write this much. That girl is too hyper.”

“Ned claims that she’s writing them between patients,” Bridget passed along, watching Shelly fan her face in exaggeration. “I suspect she’s jotting down a few paragraphs while putting the patients to sleep. Even more likely, she’s dictating her ideas in a recorder and paying one of the twins’ friends to write these stories.”

“If a teenager is behind these novellas, then we need to get her or him a book deal. It’s quite the output over the last month,” Shelly pointed out. “Plot-wise, they do feel like Tinny’s way of thinking.”

“To be fair about Tin’s time constraints, she conjured up the first story when she called the cabin on New Year’s Day. How it turned into a whole series, I’ll never know,” Bridget said, yet she knew.

“That’s the one with you stuck in the snowbank, only to be rescued by Harvey, right?” Sabrina double-checked. “That one might have been the most realistic. I think I preferred the summer story with Harvey killing the camp slasher before ravaging your body as a reward.”

“I enjoyed the story where Harv drove off Bigfoot and the Abominable Snowman before ravaging your body. The traps he used felt very creative,” Shelly commented.

“Harvey ravages me in every single damn story. Still, Tin keeps hinting at me turning into the slut I am with more men to come,” Bridget revealed, rolling her eyes. “As for the traps, they sure sound like the sort that the twins have already used.”

“Ooh, the cast is going to expand? I wonder if these will be new creations or more people we know,” Sabrina speculated.

“Even the original story was a bit different on the phone. Harvey was a lumberjack hermit living in a cozy cabin. You try not to laugh with your son and Harvey’s daughter sitting right next to you while Tinny rattles this all off.”

“Lumberjack? Oh, the latter Paul Bunyan story might be Tinsley’s masterpiece. Killing the folk legend only to inherit his mantle, throwing you over his shoulder, and carrying you off to ravage inside Bunyan’s magical cabin. I mean, that definitely felt like Bedsheets Bridget on crack,” Shelly teased.

“I know! Tinny stepped up the graphic details in that story,” Sabrina gasped before gushing. “Were those accurate descriptions of Harvey’s man-club?”

“How would I know?!” Bridget exclaimed. Worried they might see through the lie, the blonde quickly switched to another incident relating to the story. “Even worse, Tinny’s mom brought up that story while we had dinner at my parents' the Sunday before Pey left for school.”

“No!” Shelly gasped.

“Yes. In the middle of dinner, she dropped a mild comment about reading a very odd story about Paul Bunyan earlier that week.”

“How did our parents react? Do they even know?” Sabrina asked.

Bridget went on to describe the dinner debacle, emphasizing how protective Peyton had become of her and Sean after the divorce decision and tabloid pictures. The leggy blonde had exploded upon hearing about the fictional porn that her middle namesake had written.

“Yeah, that girl definitely needs to lighten up,” Shelly pointed out. “I tried to suggest to Penn that he take her out on a date, but he claimed it would feel weird.”

“Family friend?” Sabrina inquired as to the reason.

“It’s the cheerleader thing,” Bridget responded first. Despite Shelly shaking her head, Bee continued. “Penn only dates two types of women: Blondes and cheerleaders.”

“Peyton is blonde,” Sabrina noted. “Oh, wait, this does sound familiar.”

"Right. The woman in question must be both blonde and a cheerleader. Ex-cheerleader works just as well for Shelly's son. Although some of us suspect Penn prefers his blondes to have kept their old uniforms," Bridget said, winking at his mother.

“Hold on. My son is not that bad.”

“Then why is Peyton not desirable? She was a cheerleader,” Bridget reminded.

“Barely one year as a junior high school cheerleader doesn’t count,” Shelly shot back before swearing at Bridget for proving her point.

Sabrina and her mentor shared a giggle before Bridget noticed Huston harassing the auburn-haired member of his group again after tossing his drink on the floor.

“Get me another one, and make sure they make it properly!” Huston ordered, adding that the other guy should pay for it.

“Bee, where are you going?” Shelly inquired, watching her stand up.

“Off to perform a good deed.”

Sabrina’s eyes widened. She’d heard that statement many times in the past, usually just before trouble broke out.

---

Phineas felt like an idiot once again while waiting in line for another drink. Huston had been a dick to him for years, ever since his father **** him to rush and pledge his old fraternity. Not a frat bro kind of guy, Phinn had never really fit in. Most of the guys had been fine, some he kind of liked, but Huston had been the worst. Thankfully, he’d graduated after Phinn’s first year. Yet, that grinning face on the second day of work at Geo Gold had wiped out any excitement over his first job out of college.

That the heckling and harassment that followed wasn’t a shock. Nor did Phinn feel like he could do anything about it. Coworkers, and especially the mid-level brass, all loved Huston. But being embarrassed in front of Alyssa had to be the worst. Casual acquaintances from college classes, Phinn had been stoked at the opportunity to start his new career with her. Soon, he’d finally get up the nerve to ask her out. That had been in the perfect plan in his head. Then, Huston happened. Fortunately, Alyssa had rejected Huston’s advances so far, but that asshole had likely destroyed any hope for Phineas.

Then, the woman in blue appeared. Almost like out of a movie, the crowd around the bar parted to let her through. A gorgeous busty blonde in a royal blue slip dress, she and her friends had drawn most of his work group's attention when they'd entered. Unsure of their exact ages, the guys figured the blonde was a cougar, with the other possibly her younger sister. The younger one and the dark-haired woman might be in their late twenties or just over. Perfect prey in Huston's mind, since they might be feeling old and unattractive after crossing the big 3-0. Of the two blondes, this one also came across as a feisty cat, humiliating Huston within seconds of his usual move.

“Hello, care for me to buy your drink?”

If Phineas had been drinking, he would have spit his drink out. Hell, if this woman hadn’t already done what she’d done to Huston, he’d suspect her of being a prank set up by his old fraternity bully. Gulping, Phinn replied honestly, unable to believe this vision of beauty might be interested in him.

“It’s not for me. It’s for somebody else.”

“I know. Better I pay for it since it’s about to be the foulest drink possible,” the woman explained. “I’m Bridget.”

“Uh, Phineas. Well, Phinn. Spelled with a P-H,” he managed to say, tingling at the sensation of the warm hand she offered.

“Oh! How interesting. I know a Finn, short for Finley. Spelled with an F,” the blonde disclosed. “He’s very special to me.”

The Latina bartender came over to greet Bridget as if they knew one another. Mumbling Huston’s preferred drink, Phinn didn’t hear the rest of the conversation between the two women. Instead, his attention found itself drawn to Bridget.

While intended to hang from a body, the royal blue slip dress instead flaunted the older blonde’s incredible contours. It seemed almost tailored to hug her every perfect curve. The bottom barely covered her smooth, firm upper thighs, ensuring that her sun-kissed legs were on display with every move. A pair of braless large breasts pushed forward, seemingly fighting for escape, or to possibly break the two ultra-thin straps that held up the dress. A pair of matching designer platform heels added height to the showstopper.

An observant young man, Phinn didn’t see a wedding ring, but he did spot the pale mark of where one should be or used to be. That hinted at either a recent breakup or a wife on the prowl for an extramarital thrill. A gold bangle sat around one wrist while a similar, thinner anklet rested around the opposite ankle. No matter what, he had a zero shot at this woman, so why had she saddled up next to him?

“You know I hadn’t planned to go this far, but you seem like a good guy. The name doesn’t hurt either,” Bridget said, snapping Phinn out of his daze. “How about we deliver this drink to your friend before taking a spin on the dance floor?”

Despite asking, Bridget didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she placed her arm around Phinn to lead him away from the bar and towards his workmates. Only a brief moment of hesitation near Alyssa's group slowed their approach to where Huston wore an expression of pure disbelief.

“If you can down this in one gulp, then you get the honor of dancing with me. Interested?” Bridget challenged.

“That’s fucking easy,” the dark blond bragged, taking the glass from the buxom blonde, who stepped to the side, bringing Phinn along with her.

The move had been wise. Huston downed a third of the drink before it launched out of his mouth, splashing over several of his friends. Gasps from Alyssa’s group turned into giggles and outright laughter. Bridget picked up on the reaction, stepping back several feet to address the athletic brunette.

“Watch and learn, sweetie. The quieter ones are better for the long haul. They don’t need to boast to cover their lies and inadequacies,” the former queen bee advised sagely.

Glancing back at the crush of his life, Phinn felt Bridget pulling him toward the dance floor. The crowd parted slightly, revealing a packed crowd moving to the music, too lost in their own world to notice the mismatched newcomers. If Phinn didn’t already crush hard over Alyssa, he would’ve called Bridget the single most attractive woman in the club. Even then, the older blonde was more stunning up close after she threw her arms around his neck to sway to the music.

Completely no longer in control of his body, Phineas let Bridget guide his movements like a puppet master. Every aspect of tonight began to feel surreal. Bridget’s perfume hit his nostrils like a seductive love potion. Her breasts pushed and rubbed against his chest, causing bursts of lust and excitement that Phinn had never known before. Through it all, he became an open book, readily offering answers to her prying questions about his life, Huston, and Alyssa.

“Don’t worry. Life will get better by Monday. I’m sure of it,” Bridget declared, bringing Phineas out of his daze, yet also into a state of confusion.

“What?” Phinn asked, suddenly shocked when Bridget reacted to a new, faster beat by spinning around to place her back to him. Her hands reached back to slyly pull his to her hips.

Unaware that, during their first dances and her information-gathering, Bridget had guided Phinn slowly to the edge of the dance floor, ensuring that his work colleagues, especially Huston and Alyssa, could clearly see them. Dropped jaws and gobsmacked expressions filled those ranks.

“Alyssa seems nice,” Bridget remarked, subtly moving her body to the beat, encouraging Phinn to do the same.

“Yeah, she’s perfect,” Phinn admitted before apologizing.

“Sweetie, there is no need to apologize. We’re just out here having fun,” Bridget said. “I’m a little too old for you. You’re twenty-four, and I’m forty. Alyssa is the type meant for you.”

“You don’t look a day over twenty-eight,” Phinn blurted out, immediately feeling sheepish when the sexy blonde glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Delightfully smooth. There is potential inside you, mister. And outside of you as well,” Bridget cooed, dipping lower to grind her curvy ass into his pretty sizeable package.

“Oh, gawd,” Phinn mumbled, unaware that his dance partner heard the groan. He’d probably never had a woman dance like this with him before.

Double-checking, Bridget held in a smile as she matched gazes with the watching brunette. Throwing her hands loosely around Phinn’s neck again, the former cheerleader brought back her exhibitionist ways, adding a more pronounced sway to her body with each dip and grind down the young man’s body.

“Perfect, you say? Have you ever told her that?” Bridget asked, flickering her eyes in the direction of Huston, who appeared ready to burst a blood vessel.

“Wha? No!”

“Good. Don’t tell her you think so for at least six months. Make her earn the compliment,” Bridget whispered before gasping noticeably for her spectators.

“I…I don’t understand.”

“You will; you will. After we're done tonight, you’ll have the confidence to get what you want,” the blonde doctor said, shifting around to face him again with a consoling look. Then, she watched Phinn’s eyes bug out as she turned full vixen, blatantly cupping his cock for all to see. “Mommy Bridget will make it so.”

With another song hitting, upping the tempo further, Bridget increased their pace. Practically manhandling her project for the night, hands slide over every imaginable body part, caressing, teasing, groping. Lips met, with the experienced woman acting like a succubus, claiming Phinn’s lips while seeking to suck out his soul. At first unnoticed by others on the dance floor, the pair soon became one of several attractions, culminating in a very blatant handjob under the pants.

---

“Oh. My. Gawd,” Shelly said, unlocking her SUV with the key fob. “I thought you were going to take him into the ladies’ room to fuck.”

“More like ohmigawd! I thought Bee was going to fuck him right there on the dance floor,” Sabrina shrieked, getting into the backseat.

“Maybe the old me. I’m still married. Who knows if Leo paid a PI to follow me around,” Bridget said, slumping into the passenger seat.

“You licked his cum off your fingers for everyone to see!” Sabrina squealed. “Tell me that’s not the old Bedsheets Bridget.”

“I don’t know if I’m more shocked about that or that you didn’t bring him home with us,” Shelly admitted, pulling onto the street. She hadn't planned to drive him in her state earlier in the night, but her fellow cheer captain’s actions had sobered her up somewhat.

"Naw, it wasn't like that. I said I wanted to do a good deed, and I did."

“Some of that was in spite. Admit it,” Shelly prodded. “That other little fucker deserved it.”

“Maybe. Yet, once I heard his name, I thought of Finn.”

“You were thinking of Cassie’s son while doing all that?” Shelly asked, risking taking her eyes off the road to gawk at Bridget.

“Not like that. I thought if Finn was like this Phinn, never having a Lana or Peyton to push him in life. Honestly, I’m pretty shocked that it worked out so well. Pretty pleased that it did. You did see him ask Alyssa to dance, right?”

“That’s why we stuck around?” Sabrina asked, realizing her former mentor’s ultimate goal. “Wow, that’s really sweet of you.”

“That girl looked almost as shocked as the douchebag. Had her whole life upturned by the great and powerful Bridget Fallon in one night,” Shelly proclaimed, laughing.

“No doubt. She had the cat-who-ate-the-canary look to her while allowing herself to be escorted over to the dance floor,” Sabrina pointed out.

After that, stories from their pasts flowed while they made the drive out to Shelly’s house on the outskirts of Blackbridge. Pulling into her neighborhood, the blonde lawyer did mention possibly selling her home someday. Maybe she’d wait until Penn finished college in a few years, but between the law firm and the news station, Shelly spent most of her time in the heart of the city.

“Damn, I don’t know. Your neighborhood is a rather pretty sight at night in the winter,” Sabrina said, getting out of the SUV. “It’s almost mesmerizing.”

“Brina has always loved the glazed look,” Bridget cracked across the vehicle’s hood toward Shelly.

Within seconds, the three tipsy ex-cheer captains descended into rounds of loud comments, insults, and laughter. Shelly figured a neighbor or two might complain about the ruckus later, but she didn’t care. Instead, she paused while climbing her front porch.

“That’s strange. I don’t remember leaving so many lights on.”

“I doubt a burglar would—Oh!” Bridget eeped, finding a handsome shirtless man standing in the now open door.

“Jeez, Mom, that’s you causing the racket?”

“Penn! You nearly scared me to ****. What are you doing home?” Shelly questioned, jumping forward to hug her son.

“Jake had a family thing for his grandparents. He didn’t want to make the drive alone, so I came along. I thought I’d surprise you and we could spend some time together,” the twenty-year-old said, referring to his best friend and roommate up in Arbor Corners. “But I see you have company. Hi, Aunt Bridget. Hey, Ms. Rinaldi.”

“Now, that’s the mesmerizing, enticing sight I could use,” Bridget whispered to Sabrina as they watched the mother and son enter the home, with both noting the way his pajama pants clung to his firm buttocks.

---

Author's Note: I cut around a two-page description of the dinner debacle. Somewhat for length, but mostly because I think it might make for a rather entertaining flashback scene later in the weekend. Also, this seemed like a good time to use the Phineas name for a throwaway character. It had always been put aside to avoid confusion with Finn.