Sara was running with a group of men, who she flirted shamelessly with and who all thought they would get a chance to bed her someday, one day when they found out that there was a confirmed Sly in The Presidio in Northern San Francisco. They gathered up the forces and headed out. Armed with Gay Dars and tazers they approached the suspected place. Sara was assigned to go around back and watch for those trying to make a quick escape. Suddenly there was a loud crash as Sara could here the battering ram knocking down the door. There were screams, yelling and the sounds of brut force being used to knock those homos into submission. Sara heard the noise ever so quietly. On the north side of the house there was a cellar door opening up. Emerging was the most beautiful woman Sara had ever seen. This woman had brown curly hair and green eyes, her face was perfectly shaped and her lips looked like they could seduce even the most hardened asocial person. Sara took note of this woman’s average waist size and short-mounded bottom. Sara was also in shock over her immediate lust for this woman. She had never had these feelings before, but there she was wetting her lips in anticipation of a kiss or even just a peck on the cheek of this woman.
Over her ear piece, interrupting her outlawed thoughts Sara heard her commander. “Do you have any one back there? Are there any of those politician murdering homos that got away?” Sara paused. First the first time in taking over this job, she paused. She had never paused before. That was why she was allowed to go to Slys with the men – she knew she was the best at catching “these” people as any of them. But that day, as she stood there watching this woman, she paused in her response.
She wondered who this woman was? Beyond loving another woman, what had this woman done wrong? Just like how not every Muslim has flown airplanes into buildings, not all gays are the people at Gay Pride Parades of the past and nor is every lesbian to be equated with that monster, Kyle Fuller. This woman might be of some value beyond just being straight or gay. So Sara paused.
He squawked again at her and threatened to come back there to check on her. Sara responded this time “Nothing I can’t handle.” With that Sara rushed to this woman’s side. Sara inquired of a name and the name Krista Waters was revealed. Krista pleaded for her freedom, and again, Sara paused. Should she help this woman who looked so normal or should she turn her in?
I will answer next week on Tuesday Fiction.