The Need for Fresh Vegetables Ch. 01

In our small town, there were no supermarkets or malls. When we needed vegetables we either went to the mandi, the vegetable market that was set up in the open turf near the town centre, or vendors brought them to our localities to sell them. In our neighbourhood, there was a regular vendor who came every day to sell us vegetables and the women were quite familiar and happy with his fresh vegetables and rates. It was a very convenient system.

At one time though, our regular vegetable vendor had been absent for a while and I heard my mother and aunts complaining about it daily as they had to trek to the mandi to do their shopping. This meant a walk of about 15-20 minutes and additional expenditure when they had to pay to haul the vegetables back in a rickshaw. With a household of over twenty people, buying fresh vegetables was a daily affair and the disappearance of our vendor who came to our locality really bothered them and put an additional trip to the market in their day.

So it was with a sense of joy that we heard the familiar hawking coming from the street after an absence of about a week. But it was a different voice that sent out the familiar refrain. All of us ran out to see and that was when I set my eyes on Veenu, our old vendor's son.

He explained to us that his father was sick and had been unable to do his rounds that he had been doing for thirty years, and was understandably distraught about it. He felt like he was letting us all down by making us go far to buy vegetables and giving us unnecessary trouble. So he had asked his son to take up his post till he recovered. And so here was Veenu.

At that time I was unaware of what we would get up to, and I remember holding back a little while my mother, aunts and elder sister crowded around his rickety bicycle and bartered with him for the produce. I was a young girl and not really interested in cooking yet. My sister was taking up her training in the kitchen for the moment to prepare her for her upcoming wedding, so I was off the hook. I didn't really care much what they bought or what they cooked.

After a while when the excitement of the new vegetable seller died down and my mother moved from her place with her vegetable basket, I got a clear view of Veenu. I had not noticed him before with all the ladies rushing forward and the fuss of the bartering and the general delight of the vendor finally showing up.

But when I had my first clear look at him, I noticed that he was quite good-looking. He had very soft brown hair that he wore a little longer than usual and beautiful brown eyes. He always had a smile while bantering with my mother and aunts and an easy familiarity and confidence while interacting. His dress of shirt and pants, though not at all expensive, still was better than the kurta and dhoti of his father. I liked him.

Veenu became a common thing during that time, merrily hawking his vegetables down our street, most of the time coming into our courtyard with his small basket to bring something that my mother or aunts had asked for in advance the day before. His sunny disposition and easy smile while bartering endeared him to the neighbourhood and before long he was even more liked than his father. This meant he could command slightly higher prices and he was obliged by the matronly ladies and young girls of the locality. Maybe this suited their family well, because we didn't see his father return for a long time... almost three months.

Almost every day of those months, I peeked at him from a first floor window or the balcony when he came, making as if I was just hanging out. It wasn't like I was infatuated with him or anything of that sort. He was just easy on the eyes.

A few times our eyes met when I was looking at him. Sometimes he just spared a small glimpse when there was someone with him, but when he wasn't being watched by anyone, he usually looked up and our eyes met for longer periods of time. He usually gave me a smile while looking at me. There was definitely interest there too.

Usually, Veenu came around ten in the morning, the prefect time for the midday meal to start being planned in the minds of the women. His calls came regularly at that time from the street; we could have set the time with his regularity.

One day, after nearly a month of his starting to sell the vegetables on our route, he was late. It was already ten-thirty and he was nowhere to be seen. My mother and aunts were impatiently banging stuff together in the kitchen, grumbling under their breath at him while keeping an ear cocked for his call. They all had planned to go to the market for some shopping for an upcoming wedding, and had planned to cook lunch before leaving, but now their plans were starting to fizzle out.

Their mood was getting darker by the second as they cooked rice and dal with some leftover bhaji from the day before. It was definitely not enough and they would have to cook at least two dishes again later on in the day for the meal at night. Usually we just ate the same thing for dinner with an additional sabzi but they didn't need to cook twice like they would have to do that day.

When midday came and went, they finished their cooking and called us to lunch. I hurriedly finished the dal-chawal and bhaji, eager to escape the black mood. Then they cleaned up and left, taking my sister with them. I had told them I didn't want to be stuck with them buying jewellery or saris. All that stuff didn't interest me then and that was how I was left alone in the house.

In only about fifteen minutes or so after they had left, I heard the familiar call from the street. It was Veenu with his vegetables. I chuckled to myself and murmured a small curse under my breath. He could have come a few minutes earlier and caught my mother and aunts. They would have blasted him with their words but at least bought what they wanted for the night's meal.

I wondered whether I should buy anything or not, whether to even open the front door and see what he had to offer. My mother or aunts had not left any instructions on what to do if he came, so I was still in two minds when an idea occurred to me. I decided to play with the poor guy a little bit... just test him to see how far he would go. Nothing outrageous, just some fun was what I had in mind.

Veenu came up to our door and knocked.

I was ready for him. I opened the door. "Why are you so late today?" I asked even before I had the door fully open.

"Sorry, sorry! I got late today as the mandi started out late. There was some municipality pipe leak and the whole place was flooded, so they had to deal out of the backs of trucks and autos. It was such a pain trying to find all my regular people and trying to get vegetables out of the madness. It was too much confusion everywhere," he explained. He craned his neck in to peek behind me. "Is your mother in?" he asked.

"No, but show me what you have," I demanded.

"Your aunt wanted some potatoes and tomatoes yesterday," he said. "I got them for her. Is she in?"

"No, nobody is at home. They all went out to the market," I said.

"They should have just waited for me," he said as his face fell.

"No, no. Not to buy vegetables. Just to do some other shopping. What else did aunt want? Do you know?"

"No, she just said to get potatoes and tomatoes and I have them here in the small basket," he said, heaving it out from the bigger one on the back of his bicycle. "Do you want anything else?" he asked, his smile accompanying the words.

I hesitated a bit, letting a frown come onto my face. "I don't know. Did they say anything else yesterday?"

"No, they didn't say anything but usually they buy some pudina, kari patta, dhania patta and hari mirch everyday," he replied, naming mint leaves, curry leaves, coriander and green chillies.

"Okay. Put in as many as they buy," I said.

"It's nice that you are doing the shopping today. I never get to see you," he said as he picked out a few bunches of mint leaves, curry leaves and coriander with a handful of green chillies and dropped them into the smaller basket intended for our house.

I gave him a smile.

"Anything else?" he asked, his smile broadening a bit as he met my eyes.

"I don't know," I said, shrugging. "I don't know what else they want. If you had only come in a few minutes earlier you would have caught them," I grumbled good-naturedly.

"Sorry, Miss," he said, bowing his head and fiddling with his basket. "It really wasn't my fault."

"Okay, okay. Come, put your basket the kitchen. It looks heavy," I said and backed away from the open door where we had been standing.

He followed me into the courtyard and then into the small room off the kitchen where we stored grain and other things we bought in bulk. He didn't come into the kitchen though as he had his chappals on, so he stopped just beyond the threshold and set the basket down just inside the door.

"How much?" I asked him, referring to the money I needed to pay him.

"Don't worry, I will take it from your aunt tomorrow," he said with a smile and made to leave.

I stopped him with my words. "Why? You don't want to get paid by my hand or something?"

"No, no! Nothing like that. I just didn't know if you had the money, and it's okay if I ask them for it tomorrow. They'll give it to me," he replied hurriedly, trying not to offend me.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't have the money with me. Tell me how much. And don't try to raise prices or cheat me because the elders aren't here," I cautioned.

His hand went to the back of his neck and he started stroking himself as he glanced at the ceiling, trying to add up the prices in his head. He started murmuring. "Thirty rupees for potatoes, fifteen for..."

"What?! Thirty? How many kilos are there? Five?" I butt in. "I'm not paying your ridiculous prices."

He sighed. "Miss, I am asking you for a very reasonable amount. Almost cost to cost. If your aunt was there, I would have asked for thirty-five," he said, grinning at me.

"Oh? Why this discount for me?"

"Just for a pretty girl like you," he replied.

I felt a tingle in my stomach. He was flirting with me!

"And this is the first time you're buying from me. So... for that reason also," he added.

"And you also know that if I pay you more than the price of these things, my aunt will have your head tomorrow," I said.

He laughed at that. "That is also right," he agreed.

"So tell me truthfully. How much?"

He considered a bit. "Okay, twenty-eight for the potatoes, fifteen for the tomatoes...." He saw that I was going to cut in, so hurried with, "Miss, see how many there are! Fifteen is very reasonable. And twelve for the hara masala," he finished, referring to the greens. "All together fifty-five. Nice round figure."

As he said that, his gaze dropped to my breasts. There was no mistaking which rounded figure he was referring to.

"I will give you fifty," I replied.

I waited a beat, licked my lips and added, "That is an even more round figure."

His eyes shot to mine and he tried to determine if I had understood his meaning. These were dangerous waters.

Even as he was considering what to say next, I moved my dupatta slightly and slipped my hand down the neck of my shirt.

The look on his face was priceless. His mouth almost dropped open and he simply stood there, gaping at me.

I took my time fumbling in there and then pulled out a fifty rupee note, warm from lying in my bra next to my breast. I offered it to him, but he took a moment to just blink, so I took his hand in mine and handed it to him.

He gulped and looked down at my hand holding his.

"Is that okay... or do you still want more?" I asked him suggestively.

His response was a little guarded, but immediate. "More," he said in a low voice.

"Five more?" I asked, teasing him.

He cleared his throat and was beginning to reply when I leaned into him, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him. His lips were warm and soft.

He was still standing there like a statue and I suddenly wondered if I had gone too far. I had intended to flirt with him and the act of fishing out the money from my bra was planned, but other than that, I hadn't really thought about where it would lead. But with my lips against his, I made a decision that I would go as far as he would let me. When else would we get such a perfect opportunity? And to waste it would be... sinful.

Making up my mind, I leaned into him some more and nibbled at his lips. He was still cautious. I opened up my lips and coaxed his mouth open with my tongue, then plunged it in.

I knew I had to guide him because he wasn't sure about how far he could go. If we were caught, both of us would be in deep trouble. It could be a huge stink, and he knew it. He might be beaten or worse, run out from the neighbourhood where he sold his vegetables. His very livelihood was threatened. So I wouldn't fault him for trying to be careful. But I was getting impatient too. How long would he just stand like that?

"Veenu, kiss me," I said against his mouth.

He started moving his lips against mine, tentatively.

At least that was some progress. I started moving back, pulling him with me to a corner of the storeroom. When the back of my legs hit something, I sat down, knowing they were sacks of rice or wheat that I had bumped up against. His mouth disengaged from mine.

The corner was dark as the light didn't hit that part of the room from the courtyard, and I situated myself comfortably on the pile of sacks. I could only see him as a shadowy form.

"No one can see us here if they suddenly come in from the front door," I told him. "And we will also hear them long before they stumble upon us. There are lots of hiding places between the sacks. Be comfortable."

He nodded.

I hooked my hands behind his head and pulled him back to me. He came willingly and started kissing me again. This time, it was a deep kiss. His tongue invaded my mouth as he pressed his lips into mine.

I took up his hands and placed them on my waist. In a moment, he started squeezing. I was starting to get horny with the excitement of the situation running through my veins, pooling in the pit of my stomach and leaking out of my pussy. Even though this was not my first time doing this with a guy, this was the first time I had planned it or taken the lead like this. I felt so much in control, like I could make him do anything. And I was going to.

I moved back a bit and looked up at him. "Would you like me to take this off?" I asked, holding my dupatta in my hand.

He nodded and I took it off and flung it onto the ground.

"Would you like to touch me?" I asked him next.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Come then," I said as I took his hand in mine and placed it directly on my right breast.

He hesitated for only a moment, then started squeezing my breast in his palm. I had good-sized breasts and I felt like they fit in his hands perfectly. I started breathing heavily with the heavenly feelings running through me. I felt drugged and the whole thing was so exciting and I was so wet down there.

In a minute, both his hands were on my chest and he was taking handfuls of my soft breasts and kneading them hard. I liked the little bit of pain he was giving me and started pushing my chest out, hungry for more. I wanted to feel his hands on my naked flesh.

"Do you want to touch me from inside the shirt?" I asked him.

His response was to just step away to let me drag my shirt up over my stomach so that he had more room. He thrust his hands inside and came up to my breasts, but my bra prevented his hands from touching my naked mounds.

I just reached behind me and let the catch of my bra loose.

He realised what I had done the moment the bra came loose and he pushed his hands under there and finally I felt him on my breasts. He started kneading my boobs with his hands inside my clothes and I couldn't stop myself from giving out small moans and sighs in encouragement.

I was in ecstasy but I still wanted more. My hunger of the flesh was just getting started. He was stoking it to a high fever that ran through me and the more he touched me, the more wanton I wanted to become.

I moved my hand to the front of his pants and lightly brushed him. I could feel his hard cock straining against the material so I moulded my palm to his crotch, trying to get a feel of him.

He pushed his hips towards me and I felt him, hard and eager. I cupped his outline, trying to hold him through the material. When that didn't work, I settled with just rubbing my palm up and down his hardness. I could feel him growing bigger and harder as I kept up the gentle rubbing.

His hands on my breasts were tormenting me. The more he touched me, the more I wanted to be naked, free of all the clothes obstructing us. I took hold of the edge of my shirt and lifted it up, over my head and off. My bra, I left on, hanging loosely over my upper body as that was not going to be such a problem as the tight shirt I had been wearing.

Veenu just moved the bra away a little and had access to my boobs, which he exploited immediately with great affect. He started squeezing them and taking my nipples between his fingers and pressing gently.

"Mmm... that feels so good," I murmured as lightning bolts shot through my body, straight from my nipples to my pussy.

My hands on his body also sped up, applying more pressure and almost rubbing him too enthusiastically in the process. I wanted him naked too. So I boldly went to the fastening on his pants and started fumbling with it, finally getting it open and then I tried to slip my hand inside. It was a tight fit as I had not yet opened the zip, but I could touch his stomach and the little curly hair disappearing like an arrow into regions below. For the moment, that was enough. I felt his warm skin and raspy hair against my soft hands as my hands roamed his stomach.

Both of us were in such a passion but I still knew I had to take the lead in whatever happened next as Veenu was probably going to be cautious and go only where I took him.

"Open your zip," I told him. "I want to see and touch you also."

He opened his zip and separated the ends of his pants, offering his underwear clad hips to me. I could see his hard cock outlined clearly, so I just put my hand on it. He put his hand on mine and pressed it into himself, closing his eyes and groaning with pleasure.

He held his shirt up with one hand and with the other, moved my hand roughly against him, pressing into me and moving against it, pleasuring himself. I was willing to give him that for a while and I let him do whatever he wanted. I sat back and watched his jaw clenched with the emotions assaulting him. He kept rubbing himself against my hand, establishing an up and down motion, until I felt him grow rock hard. His underwear was moved a little by the way he was rubbing against my hand and suddenly I felt something wet and smooth against my hand. I looked down and I saw the top of his cock peeking out from his briefs.

I stopped what he was doing by trying to pull my hand out and immediately he stopped and let me go.

"I want to see it," I said when he looked at me.

Bending down, I slowly freed him from the briefs, pulling the cloth down and extracting his cock. I wrapped a hand around the shaft, holding him free of the material. I marvelled at the design of the thing, hard like a rod but smooth and velvety to the touch. I loved touching cocks.

I slowly started running my hand up and down his member, not enough to actually jerk him off, but pleasuring him all the same. With my other hand I burrowed into his underwear and cupped his balls, weighing them in my palm, squeezing them gently. The male genitalia were definitely a piece of art. I felt like I could touch him and be fascinated by doing just that for hours.