"Why in the hell is there a traffic jam at this time of night?" I muttered to myself as I drove in for my appropriately named graveyard shift as a security guard. "Christ, what a dead-end job."
As I pulled into work and saw the police motorcycles at the intersections, I realized why the traffic was slow. Another of the grand "Keep Portland Weird" traditions, the Naked Bike Ride. It was going to be a long night.
After checking in, I went out to make sure there were no crowd control issues. Most of those watching on the sidewalk were not doing so by choice. The police had blocked the roads and there was no way to get through. So, people stood on the sidewalk and watched for ninety minutes as thousands of naked people rode by on bicycles.
I helped a couple of naked guys that crashed on the sidewalk, but neither one needed medical care. Mainly I just watched the naked people go by. It is not like there were not a fair number of attractive women, but I found myself far more irritated than turned on.
Eventually, all the cyclists passed, the crowds broke up, and I was able to get back to my normal patrols. I checked out the property, made note of some new graffiti, disposed of some used needles that had been left behind by junkies getting their fix, and settled in for what looked like would be a quiet overnight.
It was nearly Midnight when cyclists, still naked, started appearing in ones and twos, either heading home or back to the start where they had left their gas guzzling vehicles (ironic, since the point of the ride is ostensibly to protest America's use of oil).
As I came down one of the side streets, checking doors, I came upon a most unusual sight: a ravishing fairy with a broken bicycle. She was standing on the side of the road, examining her bike. She stood an turned toward me as I approached. She was a small woman, barely five feet tall. She had slim but muscular arms and legs, a flat stomach, and small, well-shaped breasts that pointed straight out, high on her chest. Striking as all that was, it was just the beginning. She had a blonde ponytail, hanging to her waist; fairy wings, cleverly attached so they flapped when she moved; and the robin's egg blue eyes that seemed as if they could penetrate to the soul. I could not take my eyes off of her. She was nothing short of breathtaking. Quite literally breathtaking.
I felt a definite stirring in my groin. "Stop it, you dirty old man, she is half your age" I thought to myself. I stumbled over my words "are you okay?"
She blushed slightly and laughed. It was a wonderous laugh, high and it invoked thoughts of children playing.. "I am fine," she replied "but I have a broken chain. It's okay, I have a friend who lives nearby. I can push my bike over there and get it figured out."
I watched the wiggle of her round ass as she walked away, struggling slightly with her bicycle. My cock was at full attention and certainly not happy to see her go. I sighed deeply and returned to my patrol.
As I approached the corner she had just rounded, I heard a small crashing sound. I went around the corner and her bike was laying on the ground, but the fairy was nowhere to be seen. Instantly wary, I knew that the only place she could be was in the dark, wooded area behind the building. I didn't think, however, that she would have dropped her bike and gone back there willingly.
Swiftly, but silently I approached the edge of the building. It was dark behind the building only lit by whatever light spilled over from the parking lot. As I peeked around the corner, I could see that a large man stood, with his back to me, facing the girl. I saw a glint from his right hand as the long blade caught the light.