Should Be Me

By The Queen of Blueberry Toast


Outside the streets were hot with the neon crystal glow of the sun.  What 
long shadows crept after the rush hour pedestrians had already started to fade 
in some places, grow garish under club lights in others.  For most of the city 
it was too early, and for the rest too late.  She heard laughter welling from 
the shady sidewalk just outside the garage.  She heard her own heartbeat as it 
crept maddening and wet from her heart and into her belly.

Because she was alone, and because it was hot enough to for her to lie and say 
it wasn't her own fault, she let the blush come and caress her cheeks and the 
curve of her breasts half-bared by her open blouse.  Idly, she thought she must 
look as if she was drunk.

And in a way, Sharon was. 

Leona had parked her beloved bike under the glossy gaze of a skylight.  The 
early evening shivered there, blinking now and then when what fragile clouds 
survived the heat to come drifting over the city before the ocean swallowed them.  
When there were no clouds, the sunlight caught the motorbike.

Like a mirror, the bike in turn gleamed and glittered.  Where it could gleam.  
Where Leona didn't hold it.  

Sharon's partner, certain of being alone with her favorite toy, clung to it now 
like a mermaid riding on a wave in the days when the ocean's horizon was clearer 
that in was that early evening.  

She'd taken off her boots and left them lying in a half-hazard heap by her 
duffle.  Without them she was free to curl her naked toes around the corners of 
its lower body.  The hull of her bike she'd kept so clean not one streak of dust 
from the highway had rubbed off on the pads of her feet.

Leona's ankles were so dainty, so fragile.  Sharon curled her toes up inside her 
high heels.

No, even if this strange creature, this rookie of all the one's she'd been given 
could choose to know...

But for now, she was senseless with a kind of achy rapture, for Leona purred with 
her throat against the handlebars and then slipped away from her bike.  It was 
with a lover's abandon she unbuttoned the top of her uniform and cast it aside.  
Only a thin sheath covered her beneath- one strap had already sagged from her 
shoulder.  The surface of her plaything had been cool enough to pebble her nipples 
beneath its film.  Sharon only saw them for a moment though; Leona sighed and 
cracked her back and pressed her whole body down against the bike, snuggled it, 
embraced it with the curve of her thighs.

She could see her heart pounding.  

Sharon knew that if she'd only turn just the littlest bit towards the corridor, 
Leona would know, Leona would sense the fluttering of her own viscera and the 
bike would melt away like ice cream.

How it must feel to have those legs entangled with her own, those soft breasts 
brushing against her with the most gentle sighs, those toes niggling her ankles.

Leona was melting though, happy as a child, and she couldn't take that away, 
not now.  The heat of the day had not waned, or the pleasure on her partner's 
face as she closed her eyes and breathed the scent of chill metal.

Sharon left her that way, without a sound or shadow for the clouds followed her 
through the windows in the hall.  She stopped somewhere close to the vice 
department's door and told them, "It should be me."