Miss Purple Marble was finding so much gratification on the dance floor. Her dents and scratches and the big chunk missing seemed to have vanished. Between the flashing lights, the insanely loud music and roaming hands of her new suitor, she was feeling beautiful, desirable…all the ways she had not felt for a long-ass time. She had not even had a chance to really see what Mystery Man looked like. He was mainly behind her and all she could really make out was a black shirt, nice blue eyes. He could have been Elephant Man for all she cared. She felt euphoric. Maybe somewhere near orgasmic in a public place. Timing is an important factor in life. Chances are, had this steamy encounter occurred six months earlier, the results would have been far less erotic. Chances are, the whole scenario would have never even taken place at all. Maybe men have special sensing devices to detect the Spurned Wife in Need of Affection.
Her story might have continued on into the wee-hours of the morning but unfortunately, her well-intentioned friends were ready to depart and refused to leave her there. The Five-Finger Guy followed her outside, introduced himself. His wedding band seemed to her a sign of some sort of twisted honesty that she could appreciate. Phone numbers were exchanged but at the time she didn’t really think anything would come of the whole deal. He had explained that he was a fireman from a different city, in her area for training in diving. Diving to save people. Drowning people. He seemed perfect to her. She was unaware of the fact that fireman have a reputation for being sex-pigs, that they have an easy time getting laid because girls fantasize about a man in uniform. Her own father was a pilot in the Air Force, she had no uniform fetish whatsoever. He told her that on the dance floor she had been completely surrounded by libidinous firemen. That he felt luck was shining on him, as if she had chosen him which she really had not. She was just riding this wave of good feelings. Letting it happen.