I started mopping the flagstone floor, washing dishes, and finally graduated to serving drinks and food.Generally I didn't have to think twice about the customers. After all, with the exception of a traveling bard or tinker and the very rare patrol of English soldiery, our village was generally left to us. An uneasy peace existed in the country. In not too many years there would be the earth-shaking revolt of Hugh O'Neill amd "Red Hugh" O'Donnell that came within a breath of casting the English out of Ireland. Alas, that was not to be.In the meantime though, I could generally wiggle my hips or cast a wink at the men in the tavern without fear of any liberties being taken. Most customers were friends of my family. Furthermore my father was well known as a strong man and a famed wrestler throughout the area. He was pretty choosy about who got fresh with his Bridget. The young men learned quickly that if they wanted to steal a kiss, it would have to be done away from my father's. I could see that she was breathing hard. "Oh my god! Was she enjoying my close proximity to her body?" I started to think. "Was she really getting wet?" I wondered. "Did she touch herself as my head lay on her bosoms? Why was her skirt pulled up?" thoughts raced through my mind. "Or did I unknowingly touch a sensitive part of her body as I lay there almost unconscious?" I started to worry. I looked at her face and there was still a blush of embarrassment on her face and she was trying to avoid eye contact with me. I sat there for a moment pondering what my next step was going to be. My attempts to apologize was not working, and the embarrassment my action had caused for her was very apparent. I was still blaming myself, though the truth was that she was embarrassed since she had realized that I likely knew that she was enjoying herself as I lay there with my head on her bosoms. As if to reassure her, I reached out and grabbed her right palm and held it gently in my left hand. A few.
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