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Firefighter's Virgin

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If I wasn’t looking for a guy to actually date, I could settle for someone a little less than perfect. This guy was handsome. He would probably be fun in bed. I started to play over the possibility of bringing him home with me, but first, I’d have to at least have a full conversation with the guy.

That was my problem when it came to one-night stands. I had this crazy notion in my head that they needed to be able to hold a conversation. It was certainly a woman-type of criteria for a one-night stand; I doubted guys worried if their women could hold a conversation before they brought them home for a night full of fun.

“Sure, man, this is on point. I love art shit.”

“Will you be buying any of the pieces?” I ventured to guess he wasn’t wealthy enough to purchase one of the paintings, but you never knew what someone had in their wallet.

Money wasn’t all that important to me, though. I didn’t plan on settling down with any man in the near future, so I was only asking as a form of reference to see why this guy was at the art show. If he was there to purchase something, at least I’d know we had art in common.

“Yeah, I might,” he said unconvincingly. “You think I should buy some of this painting crap?”

That was it: I couldn’t pretend to like this guy long enough to sleep with him. I could hardly stand having a conversation with him. This was exactly why my life as a one-night stand type of woman was so limited. I couldn’t sleep with someone I didn’t at least like, even if it was only going to be for one night.

“Well, I need to get back to my friends. It was nice

talking to you. If you’re interested, I work at a high-end dating site and they are always looking for good-looking guys to join. Here’s a card,” I said, as I started to turn back to my friends.

“Hey, don’t leave yet,” he said as he grabbed my arm.

I turned back slowly and looked down at my arm and then up to him. My mouth pressed tightly in anger, and I waited to see if he would let go on his own or if I was going to have to punch him in the face. I really had no qualms about punching the guy right there, in front of everyone.

Guys who grabbed women like he did didn’t deserve the time of day. There wasn’t an excuse for it. Sure, I understood if a guy gently took my arm to get my attention; there was a difference, though. A guy who was just trying to get your attention was soft, gentle, and let go when you turned around. This guy had not gotten the memo on how to treat a woman – that was very clear.

“Sorry, babe, I just wanted to talk some more. Don’t be such a bitch about it.”

“Not going to happen,” I said as I tried to control my anger and not get too noisy in the middle of the crowded room. “Now, are you going to let go of my arm?”

“Um, yeah, sorry, darling,” he said. “No harm, no foul.”

“Don’t touch a woman like this again. It’s not okay. Do you understand?”

“Whatever,” he said as he stormed off.

As I turned back to my friends, an inkling of misery flashed through my mind. I certainly wouldn’t be having a night full of unadulterated sex. My prospects were getting slimmer and slimmer as I got older; now I understood why some women ended up being single all their life.

Once you passed that age where you were willing to compromise, you moved into an era where you were self-sufficient and lame guys just weren’t needed. I was definitely self-sufficient, and as good as an orgasm sounded, I wasn’t that desperate for one.

“Another drink?” Markus asked Mattie and me.

“Yep, keep them coming. No reason to turn down some free liquor. Plus, if I get a few more in me, maybe I’ll be able to get the rest of these referral cards handed out,” I said as I held out a stack of a dozen cards.

“Del, seriously! Are you really going to hand all those out?”

“Yep, we get a five-hundred-dollar bonus for anyone who signs up with our referral. I could really use the money. There never seems to be enough.”

“Isn’t the house paid for, after…you…know? I mean…”

“Yes, Mattie. After Spencer died, I used the life insurance to pay off the house, and I still had a decent amount left. But it’s been four years and we have dwindled the remaining money away. Luckily, I get paid a decent salary or we wouldn’t be able to keep the house. I pay two thousand dollars a month just for taxes and insurance; there’s no way I would have been able to stay there if we had a mortgage payment.”

“I’m glad you guys got to keep the house. That’s an important part of stability for Connor,” Mattie said in one of her brief, real moments of talk about my life after the death of my husband. “Should we go find Markus? I think he’s lost.”

“Sure, let’s go over to the bar in the front. There was a pretty bartender there,” I laughed.

As much as I loved Mattie, I didn’t really like her boyfriend Markus much at all. I knew we were going to find him talking to some pretty girl and it would break Mattie’s heart. I’d urged her to leave him so many times, though, that it wasn’t even funny anymore.

“Hey, he only cheated once; he’s not going to do it again,” Mattie said. “We’ve talked about it.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I was only joking. I’m sure there is just a big line,” I said, although I didn’t think that, at all.



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