Butternut Squash DelightbyStephanie101©
I was browsing the vegetable aisle of the local supermarket, as I am wont to do, indulging my secret vice. I had already invested in a nice fat carrot and a smooth, juicy cucumber, and was fondling the aubergines, enjoying their luscious taut shiny purple skin and thinking about which shape and girth I would like best. I felt someone's eyes on me and looked up, to meet the gaze of a woman on the other side of the rack. She looked about my age, though somewhat prettier, I thought, with short hair and an amused smile touching her lips. I blushed, wondering if she knew what I was thinking, and selected an aubergine at random.
My eye was caught by some long thin white objects which the label said were called 'mouli'. I held one, trying to imagine what it would be like, and saw that the other woman was looking at me again. She was holding a cucumber and stroking it with her other hand. She winked at me, and I felt myself blushing again. I decided to drop the mouli – it was too long anyway.
Then I noticed something in a tray by itself which set my pulse racing. It was cream coloured, smooth with a cut-off stalk at the top, perhaps a foot long and 4 inches wide at the top, flaring to a wider base. In a sort of daze I reached out slowly and my hand collided with another. It was my friendly co-customer. I snatched my hand back and said 'oh, sorry,' automatically.
'Don't worry, honey,' she said with a soft purring voice that did strange things to me. 'Take it if you want it.'
I looked at her; she must have been about 40, with tanned skin and a sparkle in her eyes – quite attractive. She was about the same height as me and slim with it, dressed in a stretchy top and loose knee-length skirt. I blushed again – which I do easily.
'What is it?' I said, to cover my embarrassment.
'They're called butternut squash,' she said. 'Have you never tried one before?'
'No ... are they nice?'
She picked it up. I notice people's hands and hers were slim with short fingernails and no jewellery. She caressed the large vegetable sensuously.
'They're great,' she said, 'Perfect. You should try one – you'll be hooked.' Again that knowing grin.
I wondered whether we were talking the same language. Did she suspect my secret vice – did she even share it? She gave me the heavy object. It certainly did feel good – smooth and solid, perfectly shaped. I could feel myself growing hotter inside.
'I don't know,' I said, flustered. 'I'm on my own. It's a bit big ... not sure I'd manage it all.'
The other woman chuckled. 'I live on my own too, honey. And I cope! Took me a few goes, but once I got the taste, I never looked back.' She encircled the head of the squash with her fingers, caressing it. 'Course, you've got to trim the stalk off.'
This was getting all too embarrassing for me. 'No, you take it, please. I've got enough already.' I indicated my trolley.
She peered into it, noting the cucumber and the carrot and the aubergine, and nodded. 'Nice choices, honey. Smooth, good length, not too big. I don't care for the knobbly ones. Hey, you fancy a coffee when you've finished? I usually have one in the cafe over there.'
I couldn't think of an excuse on the spot, so we arranged to meet in half-an-hour when we had got the rest of our shopping. She walked away with a swing of her hips, giving me a sideways grin.
I got the rest of my list in a daze, my mind running over our conversation. What had we been talking about? Had I met a fellow user; if so, what was supposed to happen now? The image that wouldn't go away of my new acquaintance with the big butternut squash made bits of my body tingle.
After paying and collecting my bags, I was tempted to make a run for the car and not go to the cafe. But curiosity got the better of me. She was sitting at a table, texting, and looked up and smiled when I approached.
'Hi honey! Get what you wanted?' She caught the eye of a waitress. 'Coffee? or tea?'
I parked my bags and sat down. 'Oh, coffee please – white. Sorry, I don't know your name. I'm Amanda.'
'Sarah.' We shook hands; hers was warm and firm. 'You live close by?'
We chatted idly for a few minutes until the drinks arrived, which gave me the chance to examine her for clues. Her bare arms and legs were smooth and lightly tanned; her figure was slim and her breasts small and upturned, with solid nipples that were plainly visible under her top. She didn't look like she was wearing a bra. I envied her: I hate the sweaty constriction of bras but my breasts are large enough to need the support and bounce alarmingly (or excitingly, if you're a man) without.
I categorised her as a fairly well-off divorcee, no kids or maybe grown up, professional, confident. I wondered what she thought of me. I'm still single with a couple of long-term but failed relationships behind me, not currently looking; I've got wavy blonde hair, and take pleasure in keeping my body in good shape.
Sarah took a sip of her coffee and leant forward conspiratorially. 'Now then, let's talk about our vegetables, shall we? Looking forward to getting yours home and trying them out?'
I blushed helplessly. She put her hand lightly on mine.
'Don't be shy, Amanda. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. We're both women; we know what's what and what we like. Me, I'm going to start with the cucumber. I'll peel off any rough bits, run it under the hot tap for a minute just to take the chill off, and then drizzle some oil over it. Mind you, the way I'm feeling, I won't need the oil!'
I laughed with her, to cover my shame. What we had been talking around was almost out in the open.
'Do you ... do this often?' I asked.
'Mmm, two or three times a week, maybe. Getting more frequent as time goes by – I can't seem to think of a good reason not to! What about you?'
'Oh, not very often,' I lied. 'Um, when I'm desperate, you know.' I gave her a sheepish grin.
'Why wait till then?' Sarah said with a shrug, putting a heel on the edge of her chair and hugging her knee. Her skirt slid up her thighs and I caught myself looking. 'Give your body what it wants, that's my motto.'
'Like chocolate,' I joked weakly, trying to distract myself from the smooth skin of her inner thighs.
'Chocolate's fine if you burn it off afterwards. That's where the veg help, isn't it?'
'I suppose they do,' I said, thinking of how my muscles ached after a good session.
'Hey, you should try the squash, you know. It really feels good. Tell you what, why don't you come back to my place and we can try it out together?'
'Oh, no, I don't think ... no, I couldn't.' But part of me was growing ever more hot and liquid at the thought of watching her.
'Live a little, honey! A new experience. Anyhow, sharing makes it better, that's what I find.'
I must have looked pathetic in my indecision.
'You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Amanda. Come on, we're both adults. We're not responsible to anyone.' She touched my hand again.
I heard myself saying 'OK,' and blushed again. What had I let myself in for.
'That's my girl! I'll pay for us. Hey, you want to try one of these? I often use them beforehand, to warm up.' She delved in a bag and held out a small round apple, about the side of a pool ball. My mouth fell open; I really didn't know what she meant at first.
Sarah got a sachet of antiseptic tissues out of her handbag and wiped the apple carefully. Then she gave me a grin and quickly dropped her hand down between her legs, gave a little push and a squirm and brought her hand back up without the apple.
'Touches the right spot while you walk and drive,' she said. 'Never tried it? Here, I've got a few.'
My mouth must have been wide open. Not only had she just inserted an apple into herself in full view of anyone nearby, but I realised that she must have gone out without panties. My legs suddenly felt weak. Mechanically I took the proffered apple, and then a wipe. I cleaned the apple in a daze, wondering what I had got myself into. First of all I would have to take my panties off, then open my legs, then push the apple ... I felt my juices flow hotly at the thought.
Sarah's eyes were on me, a kindly smile on her face. Of course, I could always back out and walk away, but somehow the idea didn't occur to me. I put the apple on the table and carefully, slowly, reached under my skirt. I looked round to see if anyone was watching, then hooked my fingers into the waistband of my panties and with a wriggle managed to pull them down to my thighs, then over my knees.
Just at that moment the waitress appeared with the bill, and I almost died with shame. Would she notice my tiny sky-blue (and rather damp) panties gathered across my knees? I don't think she did. As she left Sarah snorted and we fell into a fit of giggles, like schoolgirls, which broke the tension somewhat.
'Oh my god,' I said, quickly pulling the panties over my shoes and stuffing them into a bag. 'I don't think I can do this.'
'Put your foot up on the seat. Now spread your legs. Don't worry, your skirt is hiding things. A bit. Now, get the apple. Are you wet enough?'
I certainly was. In that position I was wide open and as I pushed the hard cool apple against my opening I felt my juicy lips soft and gaping against my fingertips. I pushed harder and relaxed my muscles and it popped in quite easily. I couldn't stifle a small 'Oh!' as the sphere nestled in my cavity. Just then the waitress returned with the change and I quickly pulled my legs together again, which sent tingles of pleasure radiating outwards from my loins. I grabbed Sarah's hand for moral support.
'Ooh, heavens. That feels weird.'
'Weird but nice,' she said. 'Come on, let's go. This thing's working on me already.'
We got up, in my case somewhat unsteadily, and gathered our bags. I agreed that I would follow her car. Walking out into the car park, I could feel the apple nestling inside me, doing strange things to my sensitive spots. It was hard to walk without rolling the hips a little in order to intensify the feeling. I noticed that Sarah was doing the same. Her nostrils were flared and her lips seemed to have swelled.
'Do you think people can tell?' I said.
'What, that there's two bare-arsed women carrying apples in their cunts?' she said, the crude words harsh in her mellow voice.
'Maybe. Who cares?' She gave me a big smile. 'This is for us!'
Sitting in the car was an interesting sensation. I discovered that by tensing one buttock and then the other I could roll the apple against my trigger spot, and found myself halfway to a climax before I stopped. It would not be safe to drive in such a condition. Nevertheless, following Sarah's car through the residential streets, I could feel wetness oozing out of me and wondered if it would stain the car seat.
Waiting at some lights, I saw Sarah stick her arm out of the window and punch the air. Soon afterwards we pulled up at a fairly ordinary looking house, the sort that you wouldn't suspect anything untoward to take place within. We carried our bags indoors as it would be too hot to leave mine in the car.
'Enjoy the ride?' she asked with a grin, and I was sufficiently at ease in her company now to know what she meant.
'You bet! It's very distracting.'
'The journey's just long enough for me,' she said. 'It happened just before those lights.'
'You mean ...?' Now I knew why she had punched the air.
Sarah turned round and proudly showed me the big damp patch on the back of her skirt. 'Didn't you come?'
'I sort of ... thought it might be dangerous.'
She laughed. 'I'm used to it now. But sometimes I have to pull over for a specially big one ... Come on, let's get those veg washed and ready.'
We scrubbed the items in her sink and carefully smoothed off any areas that could snag. It felt like we were preparing a meal until I realised with a jolt what we were going to do. Sarah trimmed the stubby stalk off the butternut squash, caressing its massive girth.
'This is a lovely one, isn't it? I'm going to enjoy this. I'll have to get warmed up with the others first, though – can't take it in just like that.'
'Don't you get ... sore?' I ventured, remembering some sessions I had had.
'Oh yeah, course I do. Not so often these days. But it's worth it. When I first tried one I couldn't sit down for days! What sort of lube do you want? I've got Astroglide or baby oil or other things.'
'I usually use baby oil,' I said.
'OK, I'll fetch it.' She was quite business-like. 'If you want to do it here, that is. We can go into the lounge, or my bedroom, if you'd prefer.'
'No ... this is fine,' I said, looking around to see if any of the windows were overlooked. Somehow using the bedroom seemed too much like I was having an affair. Sarah disappeared upstairs and I stopped and clenched my fists. What was I about to do? The thought of performing the most obscene acts with, or rather in the company of, a woman I had only just met would normally have filled me with horror, but I was feeling so horny that normal judgments were suspended. I squeezed my pelvic floor muscles and the apple inside me moved excitingly. I wondered if I'd be able to get it out.
Sarah reappeared, and I stared at her in renewed shock. She had removed her skirt and was naked from the waist down. Her pubes were completely shaven and her slit was prominent, her labia full and pink. I couldn't take my eyes off it.
She chuckled. 'I've been shaving for years. It feels so much nicer. What about you?'
I shook my head. 'No ... never really thought about it, I suppose.'
She slid her fingers sensuously across her bare mound. 'You'd be hooked instantly, believe me. Right, here's the oil, there's the veg. What's first?'
She put a foot up on a kitchen chair and delved her fingers into her slit, and after wriggling her hips a little withdrew the apple. It was shining with juice. She looked at it, grinned at me, and took a big bite. 'Mmm, delicious!'
Sarah put the apple on the table and picked up a cucumber, dripped some oil onto the tip and smoothed it down the fat green cylinder with sensuous strokes. Her foot still up on the chair, she placed the tip against her slit and closed her eyes. I watched in fascination as the long vegetable slid smoothly into her, not stopping until over two-thirds had disappeared. Carefully she stood upright, then sat gingerly with her bottom on the very edge of the chair. She spread her legs and gripped the end of the cucumber, and began to work it slowly in and out of her, moaning softly. I couldn't take my eyes off her fat naked lips as they slid up and down the glistening shaft.