The Bridge -- Chapter Five -- The Bridge Girls and A New Beginning
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work is copy written by the author.
You can expect instances of pregnancy, interracial sex, lesbianism, heartbreak, grief, murder, romance and affection, tattoos and death. There is also a fair amount of family love.
Even though there is little sex in this chapter, I am putting it in the Lesbian Sex category, this story also appeared in the Interracial Love category and will probably move around as it progresses. Which it will do if enough people like it, and comment.
If you are expecting a lot of sex in this chapter, you will be very disappointed, as it is mostly by inference. If you are interested in how the story proceeds though, I would definitely read it. Don't worry, though, there is plenty of sex coming. Chapter Two was just a taste. I'm having fun. Please let me know if you are too.
The Bridge Girls and A New Beginning
Missy and Samantha got back from the liquor store at seven and brought their booty to Holly and me in our room. They went wild. Sam said that Missy couldn't decide what to get, so she got everything. Everything from beer to champagne. Whiskey, bourbon, vodka, gin, two bottles of tequila, but no Scotch. Missy said that's a man's drink and there will be none of them at this party. But there were lots and lots of mixers. Three Thousand fuckin' bucks worth. Never give your CashCard to a Bridge girl on a mission.
By seven thirty, everyone had dressed down and had brought glasses and their pillows to our room and the drinking commenced. At eight, the pizzas arrived. One plain, one pepperoni, one mushroom and one white. We sat on the floor and ate right out of the pizza boxes. Everyone was in either sweats or pajamas. Angela acted as the bartender at the sink on the one side of the room. And everyone had their drink. Lizzie was easy, she drank mostly beer, she's such a bull dike. Missy, Angela and Elena drank mostly cocktails, anywhere from daiquiris to Mai Tais. Clarissa drank either gin and tonics or vodka tonics. Samantha drank wine, primarily. Holly and I drank bourbon, me on the rocks and Holly straight up. And everybody took tequila shots.
We ate and drank and teased each other and complimented one another about how good we looked and how in or out of shape we were, and when our last child was born. We were having a great time, and I think by nine we were stuffed and three sheets to the wind. That's when Holly called for 'Circle.' Circle is an exercise we did at Bridge House as a get to know you device or for catching up. Back when we were all pre-delivery, and no babies had been born yet. And we were sober doing it, so more mindful of what came out of our mouths. Now we were all post-pregnancy, at least a year for all of us, and some two, one over three.
When Holly did that, like little sheep, everyone refilled their drinks, got their pillows and sat in a big circle around the room. Samantha was doing her job, so we had a nice empty wine bottle to spin to see with whom we would start. The questions would come from the next person clockwise from them until everyone had contributed. That way, you could hold her hand while you answered her question. Circle could be an endless game, but there is no way to learn more about the people you are with, both from the questions asked and the answers gained. Holly spun the bottle, and it landed on Elena.
"How many kids do you have and how old are they?"
After everyone answered, it was determined that between us eight women and Jane there were seventeen kids born, average ages two to six, the oldest being Missy's at nine.
After Elena asked her question, Angela, who was sitting next to her, asked hers.
"Who has tattoos and what are they?"
Missy had three sheep where a tramp stamp might be. When asked why they were not centered, she said that she was leaving is room for one more. Clarissa had two little angels on her shoulder facing each other, symbolizing the two children she bore. Samantha had two hearts on her wrist, symbolizing her two children, and Elena had the name Winnie tattooed on her breast, the name of the child she birthed. Of course, Lizzie had a labrys tattooed on her left bicep, black and bold, to symbolize her lesbianism. Then I pulled off my sweatshirt and took off my bra and there was my Queen of Spades tattoo.
"Alright, Hannah, there has to be a story here. Tell it." Holly said. "We all know what it means, but what does it mean to you?"
"Well, the first man I bred with, in fact the first I ever had sex with, was a white man. Every man I've been with since has been black, including the father of my second child. He was married to a white woman with blonde hair and green eyes and wanted his child to be multiracial, hoping those characteristics would shine though. Well, they did, and the couple was thrilled with me and hired me both to nurse the baby and be her caretaker. Only the baby wasn't the only thing I was taking care of.
His wife, who broke my lesbian cherry, spent most of her time off gallivanting with her lesbian friends. And she had this Queen of Spades tattoo on her breast, right where mine is. While she was out and about, I was fucking her husband. A lot. As time went by, between his wife's absences and me raising their child and fucking him, I caught feelings for him. That was a big mistake. Big. One day when I had off, I went into town and hit the local tattoo parlor and had this done as a declaration of my commitment to him. It put a smile on his face, but it made her laugh. She told me I was fooling myself. But they hired me for the long term and gave me a raise.
"So?" Missy asked, "Are you still with them?"
"Hell no. One day I came home, and he was fucking another woman who wasn't his wife, and she wasn't me. I got pissed. I thought the three of us had a commitment. He told me I was off my rocker and that he lives his life on his terms and nobody else's. When I told the wife, she told me he'd been unfaithful to her since day one and that she had her women and so did he. Needless to say, I was devastated. After a year and a half of living this lie and raising their child, I could not take the betrayal. So, I quit. They gave me two weeks to leave, and I left in forty-eight hours."
"And you swore off black guys?" Clarissa asked.
"Well, not exactly. The only two lovers I had after that were black."
