Better Off Trashed

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Emma was ready, wearing her leggings on a warm day, to bike through her suburban town, taking a detour to the neighboring city. She was not as fit as she appeared, but was blessed with an inability to gain weight no matter how much or what she ate. Emma’s body, incapable of explosive agility or of athletic sufficiency, emitted beauty, nonetheless. Her boyfriend, Nick, liked that her profile could withstand any type of scrutiny while wearing anything, or while wearing nothing. Perky breasts and a small bubble butt were part of her persona. She was fearless in a cocktail dress and loved to walk around in leggings, torturing those that did not feature well in them.

“Just for you,” Emma said, twirling around the room for him in her black leggings. She knew he enjoyed watching her stand up straight on her bike while coasting down the street or a secluded path. Her body looked so sexy, so desirable, and so inspiring. Her short, blonde hair topping off the whole of Emma. No way was she going to wear a helmet.

He looked at her expectantly, thinking of her body in profile as she looked out the window the night before. The generous lighting of the moon spotlighted etiler escort all of her curves and her natural sexiness. She noticed his pensive, dreamy look and knew he had been thinking of the previous night and how she mounted him soon after. His stiff member supplying the base for her thrusts, for her orgasm. Yet, after the satisfaction and fulfillment of the previous night, Emma was bored with him, and like finding disgust with certain foods, she was finding him disgusting and no longer palatable. She craved something else, someone else.

_____

Towards the middle of their bike ride, Emma decided she needed to go her own way for a while. She claimed that she was tired and wanted to go at a slower pace; not wanting to slow Nick down, she suggested he finish the route he originally planned on doing. His eyes could not hide their disappointment. He had no choice but to go on his own. All he could do was to think of the sex from the previous night; that more than anything propelled him on, thinking that was on the agenda after the ride.

Nick looked back nervously, trying to see what direction the blonde topped bicyclist went in. He could not beşiktaş escort see her, deepening the mid-day wound even more.

_____

Even though Nick and Emma had been a couple for a little over a year, she felt stifled by him. This was not something that had built up over time — it was more of a sudden change. She floated down a hill, sitting low on her bike, before standing straight up as the road flattened out. Freedom! At that precise moment she decided that Nick’s time was up. She needed to move on.

Without Nick at her side, Emma felt complete again. She feared that if she wavered on her decision by resuming their life as it was, then she would lose that sense of wholeness. That fear was enough to not continue as before that day, that moment.

Emma, too, would miss the sex that at times was transcendent, elevating the monotony of one long note played at high volume; but sex, life, was better when partners were exchanged and the decor traded in for other colors. The pastels of their, his, small apartment had lost all relevance, all appeal.

Coming near the boardwalk of a narrow river, Emma noticed that a woman, with şişli escort a fit and curvier body than her own, was standing up on her bike as she coasted to the railing. Emma, slightly sweaty and intrigued, steered her bike towards the olive skinned woman, zeroing in on a target.

Glances were given and barely audible words were exchanged when their mouths opened at the same time. Both women, profiling their bodies to all passersby, stood agreeably, feeling a communal sense of freedom and lightness of soul. Into the river, a truckload of baggage, useless garbage, was tossed; no need to even watch the flow of it downstream, dispersing in all directions.

Emma’s insides did a somersault and a sliver of discovery arched across all models of attraction she had ever known. The contrast she was a part of now gave her balance. The two sides of the portrait weighed perfectly and opened a forgotten door covered over with the expectations of another person.

Nick, who started to follow Emma when she first left his side, rode to the edge of the boardwalk. He sensed the truth now. Emma was leaving him. The last night of sex was going to be that memory, that film on forever rewind.

The cursory peek Emma gave to him flashed eyes, a broken smile and nothing more. All she could think of was how long it would take to clear out her stuff from his apartment. She calculated that there were some items better off trashed.

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