Finish the story...

[WomenMoveMe]

Hi there all...

Thought it might be fun...and interesting if together we wrote a story. Hope you will play along. I have started a rather crazy and goofy story...would love if folks would add their own chapters. Come on...give it a go...let's see where this thing takes us.........

[WomenMoveMe]

She was not the kind of girl you took home to meet your mother. In fact, I don’t know exactly where you could have taken this woman and have had it be the right place. She was covered from head to toe with tattoos, she had those spacer things in her ears, and from the looks of it had been working at that mutation for quite some time. She was missing a front tooth, walked with a limp, had more piercings than a well-used dart board, and I was fascinated by her. Perhaps it was that ‘opposites attract’ thing we had working for us. I was an ultra clean-cut woman. Always comfortably but impeccably dressed. I admit the hair was kinda crazy, but that was by design. No tats, only two piercings (one in each ear in the standard fashion), and at the tender age of 52, I considered myself quite fortunate to have all my teeth.

I had first lain eyes upon her at the grocery store. I was fascinated with her from the get go. She was standing in the produce aisle doing what I can only guess was trying to find just the right sized cucumber for her, well you know. She stood there in a denim skirt and I watched as her hand disappeared underneath it. It seemed to rummage around for something and when she brought it back out, her fingers were spaced apart and she took that V-shaped finger spread and attempted to slide it onto the cucumbers as if measuring.
I giggled quietly to myself as I thought about the poor unsuspecting shoppers that would take those cucumbers home to be served in a nice salad. Hope they washed and peeled them!

The absurdity of the situation caused me glee and I have to admit, I considered it great fortune to have stumbled upon such strange practice. I could not believe what I was seeing and I was unable to turn away. She seemed oblivious to anything but the task at hand so to speak, and operated as if no one else was able to see her. Fascinating! I mean really, who does this? It made me glad I was not a fan of cucumbers as I am lazy and never washed or peeled my vegetables. I tried to convince myself something else was going on, but as she did this several times I could not for the life of me imagine what it might be. I had to move in for a closer look.

It was to be only a quick little shopping trip for me. I had worked all day and was tired. Cooking dinner was not going to happen that night and being a fan of the store’s ready made fried chicken I planned a mad dash to the deli counter and back to the car. However, as usually happens I got a little more caught up than anticipated and scooped up some light bulbs, hummus, thumbtacks, and paper towels to go along with the chicken. Thank goodness it takes a minute or two or ten to traverse the store in search of such random items. Were it not for that fact, I might have missed this entire show, this woman.

I took great care as I moved closer. I kinda sauntered her way slowly as I did not want to cause her any alarm and I certainly did not want her to stop on my account. Feeling like a cheetah beading in on some poor unsuspecting whatever kind of critter cheetahs bead in on, I began to move closer using my best stealth tactics. Well, I may have felt I was moving with great stealth, but given I am 6’ and not the most petite thing on the planet, I failed in my mission. She looked my way and for some strange reason it caused me a small jolt of panic. Not knowing what else to do, I smiled. She smiled back, the extra hole in her head where a front tooth had been almost making me forget everything else odd about her. She seemingly suffered no embarrassment about the missing tooth and I was struck by how very brave I figured that to be. I said ‘hello’ and she returned my greeting. I could not help but notice as we stood there looking at one another, she still managed to maintain her current V finger spread. Had I not been privy to her antics, I might have thought she was just a huge proponent of peace and was flashing me the universal sign. However, I knew where those fingers had been and why they were posed as such, and therefore was not compelled to return her offering of ‘peace‘.

I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it. I had to ask. I was not at all sure how to ask, or even what to ask but I was sure not going to walk away unknowing. I wanted to come off nonchalant, as if this was something I saw every day, but was not at all certain I could pull that off, so I just let it fly. “You measuring for a ‘vag-atable’? “ Now I thought this quite the clever mash-up of vagina and vegetable. She however, just looked at me dumbstruck. I looked down at my feet for a moment, a little embarrassed at my failed attempt at humor. Once I regained my composure, I looked back up at her and asked, “What I mean is, what exactly are you doing? You know, with the fingers under the skirt and then the, the fondling of the cucumbers?” I don’t really know what I expected her answer would be but I don’t think I was prepared for the truth. ‘Yes, yes I am. I left my vibrator somewhere and I don’t have the cash right now to buy another and I can’t get deep enough inside with just my fingers so I figured I would use one of these”. WOW!! So many questions her declaration brought to mind. First and foremost, how does one leave their vibrator somewhere they can’t remember (that had to have been quite the night)? Wouldn’t a nice kielbasa do? Just how deeply does this thing need to go? I could not believe she was telling me this. I attempted to be cool as if this was something I encountered many times before and asked “well, they are all about the same length right? Unless you have other particular requirements, I don‘t see that it makes a whole lot of difference“. I picked one up, inspecting it, turning it over in my hand, looking at it with new appreciation, seeing in it virtues that had heretofore gone unnoticed. I showed it to her as if I was a desperate cucumber salesman trying to make a sale. “Sure some are a little bumpier than others, but the bumps are small and I don‘t know if they are gonna make all that much difference to you.” What in the world was I talking about? I was coming across as some cucumber for sex know-it-all when in fact, I knew nothing about them other than most people like them in salads, or tiny little sandwiches, not shoved into their nether regions. She looked right at me so very earnestly “don’t care about the bumps, but I like a fat one, but not too fat. I want to please myself, not hurt myself, ya know?” I did but I didn’t, and I nodded in agreement, because I was at a loss to do anything else. I could not believe I was having this conversation and all of a sudden the craziness of it, her honesty, her standing in the store basically fingering herself, hit me and I began to laugh. I did not want to offend or embarrass her but given our current conversation, and her behavior, I didn’t think that possible.

“Why are you laughing?”, she asked so innocently it made my laugh all the heartier. “I just was not prepared for you. You have to admit this is a strange thing you have going on here”. It was clear from her reaction she did not think any of this strange and that fact alone silenced my laugh and made me want to know her. “I guess it could be worse. You could be standing here measuring for watermelons”. Again, nothing. She either did not get my humor, or I just was not as funny as I thought I was.

It had been a very long time since I had dated or even thought of dating for that matter. I had lost a partner of 12 years to cancer some odd 11 years earlier and truthfully never quite rebounded from that loss. I had loved her with all that I am and while I had healed from her death, never seemed to find anyone else of interest. I was not at all sure I was attracted to this woman, but in the short time we had spent together I found her fascinating. She was different to be sure and different had always appealed to the normality of me. Having no idea where her sexual proclivities lie, other than a vegetable fetish, I decided to throw caution to the wind and give it my best shot. I would ask if she might like to get a coffee or a drink, or perhaps a nice salad. She was not at all the type of woman I had imagined for myself, but there was something about her I found endearing. I had to know this strange woman.

“Is there something I can do to help?”, I asked. I knew this question had the potential to be dangerous as I had no idea how I could help short of inserting my own fingers into her and then helping her measure cucumbers. If I had to, I would be willing to do just that if it would help hasten her search. I mean, I am nothing if not a gentleman, right? Far be it for me to leave a lady stranded! “I don’t know. You pick one out for me, would you? Which one would you want if you were me?” Gosh, this was getting stranger by the minute. Personally I would have just grabbed one off the top, but I was interested in keeping her around as long as I could so I began rummaging through them till I reached the bottom. I held several up and pretended to take great interest in their textures, lengths, and girths. Finally, I found one I thought just right and offered it to her. “This one. This is the one. Is it too, fat?” She took it from my hand. She inspected it and making a V shape with her fingers, thrust the cucumber between them. This made me laugh. “This one will do. Why did you pick this one?”, she asked. Not having a clue, I simply told her it was my favorite and I liked the heft of it. I had no idea what that meant but was pleased when she nodded in agreement.

We walked together to the cashier station. I noticed she walked with a limp and she continued to bump into my shoulder as we walked. I had the feeling were it not for me to act as a backstop, she might fall completely over. She suddenly reached out and grabbed me. She held me in place as she nimbly moved herself around to the other side or me. “What was that?”, I asked when she was safely on the other side. “I have to walk on this side or I will just keep bumping in to you. My left leg is shorter than the other and it throws me off balance. I have to walk on the left”. I asked what had happened with the leg. If she heard me, she elected to keep it to herself as she did not answer. Given her candor about the hunt for the perfect cucumber, I thought this odd but I did not press.

We stood in the line to check out and she grabbed one of the National Enquirer magazines to amuse herself as we waited. “I don’t think the Prince William, Kate Middleton marriage will last, do you?, she asked. “I hadn’t thought much about it but I hope so. Why do you think it won’t? She simply said, “her sister is prettier”. I was waiting for further explanation, but none came. I knew in her head somewhere the remainder of that logic existed, but apparently she did not feel it was necessary to explain further, as if maybe I should just know. I was lost and trying to plummet the depths of my understanding as I responded “Oh, of course. Hadn‘t thought of that”.

My turn to check-out came and I gallantly asked the cashier to include the prized cucumber amongst my items. My grocery store companion told me I did not have to do that, but I insisted, telling her it was my way of thanking her for such an interesting excursion. When she was asked if she preferred paper or plastic, she opted just to carry it and stuck it in the pocket of her jean skirt. I had to smile as the cucumber hung halfway out of her pocket as she limped toward the door. It brought to mind the old joke, is that cucumber in your pocket or are you happy to see me? It struck me that putting it in her pocket was a much better option than what this odd woman might have done. I was afraid for a moment there she was apt to just thrust it into herself before exiting the store. You know, so as to get where she was going unencumbered. The thought of the word unencumbered now took on a whole new meaning for me, and I found myself once again laughing aloud.

We walked out together, her with new sex toy in pocket, and me with my sack of random items. I asked where she was headed and she said home to give the cucumber a try. Nothing this woman now said seemed strange to me and I wondered what that said not only about her, but about me. I asked if she might like to grab a drink or something to eat. She asked if I was asking her out and I had to admit I thought I was. She smiled that toothless smile at me and again I was struck by her bravery.

She did not think long on my invitation and said she would like to spend some more time with me. She thought I was very nice to have helped her and to purchase the cucumber for her. She told me she had some wine at her place and asked if I might like to go there instead of going out somewhere. I hastily accepted wondering if I might get a chance to have some vegetable sex. Vegetable sex was not yet something I had yet encountered and while I was a clean-cut woman of virtue and good morals, I had a side to me that was up for the exploration of all things sexual. Besides, being the one who had chosen this particular device, I needed to make certain I had chosen wisely didn’t I?

She had no car and again, that seemed to fall in line with the person she was. She seemed to me to be this unconventional woman for whom the everyday necessities of others did not matter. She hopped into my car and off we went. As we drove, I began to wonder what her home must be like. Would there be an assortment of rotting vegetables that did not make the sexual cut, cast off into the garbage can she never takes out, because it threw her further off balance to carry it? Was she some National Enquirer hoarder so as to be able to keep up with the loves and losses, the travels and travails of the royal family? My mind was a whirling dervish of scenarios and I found it difficult to concentrate on the directions she tossed at me.

We eventually arrived at a large well-kept house I took to be a boarding house. When we entered I was genuinely surprised to find it was not at all a boarding house, but her house in it’s entirety. It was tasteful and eclectic in it’s décor. It was warm and comfortable. This sounds awful and judgmental, but I was expecting some sort of small, weird space, perhaps with assorted shrines to the goddess of short-legged, toothless people. I felt terrible in that I had expected so little, and was embarrassed I was so narrow-minded. I vowed to make it up to her somehow. I vowed to make it up to all the short-legged, toothless, cucumber carrying people of the world.

She took off walking somewhere, tossing her shirt onto a chair as she went. She said nothing and simply disappeared through a swinging door. I felt awkward and did not know if I too was expected to throw my shirt off, sit, or follow. I opted to sit, keeping my shirt on. She returned shortly with an open bottle of wine. No glasses, just the bottle of wine. She sat in her bra at the opposite end of the couch, took a swig of wine from the bottle, and handed it to me. I drank from the bottle. “I don’t even know your name?” I said to her, trying not to notice she was just sitting there in her bra. “Tandoori”, she said. I told her I had not previously known anyone by that name. “Well, my real name is Loretta but I hate it so I have people call me Tandoori”. It had never occurred to me you could do that. Just have people call you what you might like to be called rather than the name your parent’s bestowed upon you. I started to wonder what I would prefer to be called rather than my given name. I pondered being a Julep, a Crayola, or maybe a Ectoplasm. None of these actually suited me, but it was fun to imagine. I expected she would ask my name, but found I was not surprised when she didn‘t. “Why Tandoori?” I asked. “I got really drunk one night and had eaten some Tandoori chicken. When I threw it all up, I kept trying to say Tandoori and I decided I liked the way it sounded. “ Well, if that was the criteria, I suppose my fake name would have been “Bluhhh”. I truly hoped that name did not suit me either.

[WomenMoveMe]

...............

[Kent]

Ah, c'mon and give us the real ending to your story.. Enquiring minds want to know..

[WomenMoveMe]

Was just given a suggestion that makes a ton of sense. I mentioned earlier to feel free to add a chapter. What I should have said was feel free to add a line...a paragraph...a chapter...whatever strikes you.

Hope to hear from you!!

[xxzalciaiomenxx]

Thought maybe I would write a little to see if others would follow!

I handed Tandoori back the bottle, she took a long swallow, her eyes closed as she drank. I took this moment to look over her body more closely. I noticed the smooth skin, covered in tattoos, the piercings calling attention to themselves as the light reflected upon the metal. Tandoori handed me the bottle when she was finished. I took a drink, and smiled at her. "Soooo..." I said. "I must admit, that was my first experience of looking at a cucumber as anything but a vegetable" Tandoori smiled kinda slyly, "Well you know a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do, and I don't get many people that are interested in me in that manner," she said, "Plus with the cucumber there are no expectations after wards" "Yeah I guess not, no need for pillow talk or terms of endearment" I joke.

[Passionaria]

I am loving this idea, but I have to admit I am a bit speechless. You had me cracking up, and astonished at the same time. Nice writing BTW. I am going to have to let this marinade and see what arises. (no pun intended) Well maybe a little. You did a great job in setting up the characters. I'll be back.

Pashi

[WomenMoveMe]

Yes...I know it is an odd sort of story. I sat to write something and that is what came out. I wish I could...and I know I should...explain myself...but I can't. At least you thought it was somewhat funny however strange the premise!

[Truly Scrumptious]

You and Tandoori
Now fascinate all of us
Don't leave us hanging!

Originally Posted by WomenMoveMe

Yes...I know it is an odd sort of story. I sat to write something and that is what came out. I wish I could...and I know I should...explain myself...but I can't. At least you thought it was somewhat funny however strange the premise!

[Passionaria]

Originally Posted by WomenMoveMe

Yes...I know it is an odd sort of story. I sat to write something and that is what came out. I wish I could...and I know I should...explain myself...but I can't. At least you thought it was somewhat funny however strange the premise!

Actually I really like it, it just took me by surprise. But I feel it's bold and intriguing. I was driving around this evening thinking about it and how it might unfold. I'm trying to feel out where I could chime in, it's brewing. It's the perfect set up for an erotic adventure. HMMM

Pashi

[Passionaria]

With a swift deliberate move, Tandoori set the bottle of wine on the coffee table. It wasn't a casual placement, instead it seemed as if some resolute decision was being expressed through the clank of glass meeting wood. With the same sense of purpose Tandoori stood up, turned, pivoting on one foot and disappeared back through the swinging doors. The sound of drawers opening and closing echoed from beyond. She was mumbling to herself a mist a clattering of sounds. Metal to tile, glass to tile, a rattling then thud. A gathering told in the symphony of sounds. After a moment or two, footsteps growing closer, she emerged, backward through the swinging doors. Her round bottom parting them open, making way for her to gingerly pass through without disturbing the tray of objects she was carrying.

Tandoori, walked over to the couch and held an etched brass tray up, raising it up reverently toward the ceiling, almost as if it was an offering to some unseen force. Then she placed the tray in the center of the coffee table, and sat. On the tray was an assortment of mischievous offerings, including the deep green cucumber that had incited this adventure. There was a milky white frosted glass votive candle holder that embraced a rose colored candle, which she grabbed first. Placing directly before her, Tandoori carefully pinched up the fresh unburned wick and fondled it into an erect position with one hand, while grabbing a box of matches from the tray with the other. This curious woman lingered in thought for a moment before sliding the cardboard box open, then plucked a wooden match from the box. With an unapologetic smirk, she struck the match, gracing the dry wood of the match with a bright steady flame. She put flame to wick, and slid the candle next to brass tray, blew out the match, and threw it on the tray along with the match box. Intrigued, I slowly sat back into the soft of the couch, taking in this curious scene. A soft light danced behind milky white glass adding a warmth to the objects on the table. The scent of rose mingled with the smell of smoke. Busily Tandoori grabbed a piece of Nag Champa incense, pulling it from it's blue and white box and lit it from the candle flame. Reaching forward she tucked the fragile wooden end of the incense into the mouth of a brass dragon incense holder, that was sitting on the golden tray. She then took a thick piece of neatly folded paper towel from the tray, and laid it open on the coffee table before her. Next she retrieved a silver metal vegetable peeler from the tray, as well as the infamous cucumber, placing them both on the paper towel. She slowly arose, walked over to the wall, and flipped off the lights. My eyes drawn to the scene on the table: a round brass tray encircling a smoking dragon, soft rose candle flickering next to it, a surgical looking cucumber set up, and a wine bottle, which Tandoori grabbed as she sat back down. She brought the bottle to her lips and took a long deep swig, then handed it to me. Shaking my head, I followed suit, drinking long and hard.

"People look at me as though I am some sort of Carnival freak" Tandoori began. The soft light flickering shadows across her face, and flesh of her arms, chest and tummy. "So I oblidge them, this way I am in control, rather than being their victim." " I'm afraid it's taught me to be a bit of an exhibitionist." She picked up the vegtable peeler, and cucumber, and methodicly began running the blade across cucumber, peels falling on paper, revieling the moist clean flesh of this bulging vegtable. "It's not easy being a woman who's looks don't inspire social acceptance" she continued. "Or even respect most of the time." " Each one of these tatoos has a meaning, it tells a story about a part of me" Tandoori said tenderly. Then she rose to her feet, moving around the coffe table to a large over stuffed chair. She set the cucumber on the chairs arm, looked me straight in the eyes and said "You can stay if you like, but you must not move, and you may not touch me, do you understand?" "Can you deal with this" she asked? Shocked but intrigued, I mumbled "yes I will stay right here and watch."

"I thought you might" she said with a soft laugh. Eyes still engaged, she reached around her back and I could hear the sound of a metal zipper releasing. Tandoori slid her thumbs under the edge of the skirt top and slid it down over her hips, letting it fall. Her black bra which sported fuschia polka dots matched the bikini bottoms that emerged as the denim skirt hit the floor. Tandoori steped out of the skirt, and pushed it to the side with her foot. I was amazed by the interweavings of tatoos that colored her soft fleshy body. She had softly curved hips and a tummy with a small rounded pouch. No hard edges, instead she was soft and deliciously fleshy. Tandoori reached around and unfastened her bra, then leaned forward leting it too hit the floor. While her chest and abdomon was decorated with tatoos, her breast were milky white, and full, with pink nipples. Her eyes shifted and her lips curved into a soft smile. The look of a seductress, juxtaposed against her somewhat toothless smile. Her hands ran up her tummy, and cupped her breasts, pulling at her nipples untill they stood erect. Then she held each breast in her hand pulling them up and out as if offering them, before running her hands back down her stomach and slowly removing her panties. Full breasts and a perfectly clean shaven pussy, something that took me by a bit of a surprise. Then, Tandoori sat down into the overstuffed chair, and picked up the cucumber.

Grabbing the end of this slick bulging veggie, she turned to the side and began tracing the cucumber over a red rose that tattooed on her left upper arm. Sensuously tracing the edges of this detailed flower as she spoke. "When people look at me, they see a dandelion." "A pesky weed that comes uninvited into freshly manicured lawns." "Disturbing the pristine vision of reality they hold" "That's how I feel when I walk out in public" she said, her voice tinted with pain. "This rose represents my right to be beautiful in my own way." I had it etched into my skin, to remind me that I can be a rose, even if that flower only shows inside of me". She then ran the cucumber down and around a Celtic band that etched in black below it. The tip of the cucumber following the bold tribal design. This arm band represents the tribe of freaks, and this I wear it proudly" she said looking me dead in the eye. " I may be a dirty little freak, but I never apologize for it, it get's me off" she said rebelliously. " And, my tribe protects me." She looked at my expression and laughed, "shocking isn't it", she retorted. I was speechless, she was amused.

She then moved the cucumber up her arm , across her collar bone and down her chest tracing the lines of a raven haired fairy. The details were amazing, this fairy lithe and nude, began directly below her collar bone and her feet stretched down to her heart. The wings spread wide across her chest. "This fairy represents my hopes and dreams" Tandoori said, her voice softening. "As women we all have dreams about who we are and what we want from this life." "I'm no different." "The world around me tries to tell me I am not worthy of my dreams, because I look like this." "But every time I look in the mirror and see her, it reminds me that the magic of life exists for me too." "That's why she stands on my heart, she's the protector of my dreams." I sat back in amazement taking in this scene; soft light flickering across her skin, shadows and shapes dancing on the walls around her, the scent of rose and incense drifting, the wine taking hold of my brain, her voice telling stories of hope and pain, and in this altered state it was as if the moistness of cucumber tracings left on each tattoo, left a shimmering light that brought the image to life whispering to me in light and tale, against her soft flesh. What once appeared crass and vulgar, now emerged mesmerizing. Laughing softly to myself i thought " I can't ever remember being so grateful for buying a cucumber, in my life."

Tandoori stood up suddenly and turned her back to me, revealing a set of angel wings tattooed across the entire part of her upper back. "May the angels protect the beauty in me, that humans can't see" she said running the cucumber across the round of her ass. Then she hopped up into the chair, turned and sat while opening her legs wide over the arms of the chair. Tandoori looked at the cucumber, then ran her lips up and down the length of it. Coming to the top she kissed it lovingly, and said in a sultry voice "tonight you are my lover, and you will please me in anyway I see fit." The width of the chair spread her pussy wide open. Revealing a rose pink crystal nestled right above her clit. Flower petals adorned with jewels. She saw where my eyes were focused and said "I love that piercing, its so naughty, and it feels so good rubbing against me every time I move." One hand firmly around the cucumber, the other hand finding the little jewel, and she began playing with it. Her hips pushed forward, and she moaned softly. Moistness gathering, flesh swelling, she took the cucumber and began sucking on it. Hips rising to meet fingers, cucumber going deeper and deeper into her mouth. Wet and slick she slid the adored veggie and ran it down her chest, and across her swollen pussy talking to it as if her lover she began pushing it deep inside her. I could only understand bit and pieces of what she was saying :

Open me up wide and tease me until I beg you for it
Aye, it's not all going to fit, but make me try and take it
quick shallow strokes
while the other hand payed with her hood piercing
hips meet girth
voice becoming barely audible
I love the way it burns
when it's just a little to big
pain with pleasure
when you push deep inside me
take all of me and be merciless
make me come undone
mmmmm you know the best way
to learn what a woman likes is
to watch how she does herself
Aye, take that big cock and find my G spot
tonight I'm so pent up
I just need to come
over and over again right now
deft hands working flesh, soft moans
become soft screams
Aye, I love the way you fuck me
give me all of it
and she came
time after time after time
then pulled out the massive cucumber
and held it to her breast

Legs shaking she looked at me, leaned over and blew out the candle. The room pitch black. Then the sound of her voice, tender and vulnerable said "tell me who I am."