Condoms On Cucumbers

You're never a loser until you quit trying.

The poster on the bedroom door was the first thing Amalie laid her near-sighted eyes upon when she woke up. Letting out a long yawn and a high-pitched moan she stretched her body. Her blond hair a charming mess of chaos, she got out of bed. Her glasses were on the night table. Feeling her way to them, she put them on. Now the letters on the poster were clear. White letters on a black background. Nothing more than that. So simple. Yet so powerful.

Today was Saturday. The entire weekend off. Amalie went into the bathroom, taking off her white nightgown. Reddish, very visible claw marks were on her milk-white back. A giant hickey on the side of her neck. She smiled to herself when seeing her reflection in the mirror. She smiled even more when stepping into the shower. As she had experienced first-hand, the shower was big enough for two.

There were two extra bottles in the shower. One extra bottle of shampo. One extra bottle of conditioner. Helena must have forgotten them. Amalie smiled even more. Since Helena had "forgotten" them, she now had an excuse to come back. Not that Amalie minded in any way.

"Ow..." she let out as the hot water tinkled across her n*****s. They were very swollen and tender, two days after Helena visited her. It was the good kind of pain.
 
The other kind of pain, though, was not that good. It had been two days. Already the desire was rampant. Possibly even worse than before the very intense episode in the shower with Helena. It was like her body had got the taste for it now, and thus craved it more than ever.

"Ow..." she let out as the hot water tinkled across the claw marks on her back.

Helena had got a little carried away in the shower, but who could blame her? After all, both of them had been to Heaven and back. Amalie could vividly recall how her first orgasm in five years felt. Her very first orgasm caused by another person. It was more like an earthquake. Like a dam bursting. Like finally being scratched on an itch that had bothered her every waking moment for five years. Helena's face had this indescribable mixture of pain and euphoria, of lust and agony. Both of them whimpered. Amalie let out a groan as Helena's fingernails literally carved through the skin on her red, wet back. She thought she was going to faint. She would never forget the strong scent coming from both of them. Afterwards the two just lay together in her red, comfy couch, holding each other. Stunned. Blushed. Satisfied. Finally they got on with it after so much teasing. After so much kissing, sucking, biting and not to mention scratching. Amalie's orgasm after five years of no release must have caught the attention of seismologists.

That was two days ago. Her body wanted it so badly to happen again. It needed it. She needed it. The dull, heavy ache was a not so kind reminder. Amalie cast a desperate look at Helena's two shampoo bottles. She used a different brand than Amalie.

"Ow..." she let out as the shampoo from her hair ran down both her n*****s and her back. It irritated the claw marks and the very tender n*****s. Could she even wear a bra today? - "Ow..."

After the shower she wiped herself very carefully with a large, blue towel. She combed her wet, blond hair, before putting make-up on.

Afterwards she was sitting by the small kitchen table eating a bowl of cereals while sipping coffee with Coffee Mate in it. Wearing her indigo bathrobe, she thought of what to do today. Helena worked every third weekend, and this was one of those weekends. Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Working ten-hour shifts, Helena would be too tired to come visit her. That meant that Amalie could not see her before Monday afternoon at earliest. Could she wait that long? She led a slightly shivering hand through her wet hair - then she caught herself doing it and let out a sigh. That tic again. Welcome back.

She grabbed her red cell phone and texted Denise.

any plans for today, denny? wanna grab a coffee at the mall? ams XD

Send. She finished her bowl of cereals and took the half-full cup of coffee into the livingroom. Sitting down in her red, comfy couch, she started reading the newspaper. A most ghastly incident had occurred on a farm in South Battersby. Someone had put a stick of dynamite up some unfortunate pig's rectum and lit the fuse. The pig had been blown to pieces. There was not much left of it, only blood and gore - bacon-smelling blood and gore. The local community was appalled. This was the third time in a week. There was a pig killer on the loose, a cruel sadist whose perverted proclivities brought horror and distress to the farmers. Amalie could not help but let out a laugh. It was comical, yet so very, very awful. It reminded her of the incident months ago in Sersby with that whale suddenly exploding and killing some local Mafia boss and two of his lackeys. She shook her head, before continuing reading the newspaper.

Some animal activist named Cliff Taft had been interviewed by the newspaper. Amalie blinked a couple of times when reading the first paragraph of the article. Was that guy for real? He literally wanted to put clothes on animals! As the article itself said:

Mr. Taft is of the opinion that animals walking around nude is a violation of obscenity laws: "If a human being walks around naked, he gets arrested in a heartbeat. If a cat, a dog or a cow does it, nothing happens. We just put up with it. But no more!" He refers to the latest incidents of pigs being blown sky high by dynamite sticks inserted in their rectums. "Would this have happened if the pig wore jeans? No!"

Amalie shook her head. So many weirdoes. She searched through the rest of her mail. A letter from the police caught her attention. With shivering hands she opened it.

A whimper. Sun-phie had filed charges against her for her assault last week. She let out an anxious sigh. Amalie was told to come to the police station in Central Battersby at nine o'clock Monday morning to give her statement. She was not surprised. What did surprise her, though, was that it took Sun-phie so long to file charges against her. The date on the letter was dated yesterday, so nearly a week had passed since that ill-fated Sunday morning.

She led a shivering hand through her wet hair yet again. Would she have to go to prison now? Lose her job as a teacher? Become unemployed? Lose her flat? Lose Helena? Everything?! Okay. Relax. Don't panic. Take a deep breath. Sheer, utter panic. Fear of dying. Rapid, shallow breath. Amalie felt like she would faint, her heart pounding violently under her indigo bathrobe.

No!

She would go there on Monday and give her statement as sincerely as possible. At the very worst case scenario she would be given a fine. Maybe it ended up in court, but she could afford a lawyer. She was sure there had to be some mitigating circumstances. Not guilty by reason of insanity. She burst out laughing hysterically. Oh God, what had she got herself into? Relax. Deep breaths. Everything was going to be alright.

Her phone buzzed. An SMS had arrived. She bounced out of the couch, scurried over to the kitchen table and seized it with the avarice of curiosity. It was from Denise.

sure, babe. meet at the cafe 12:30?

Amalie texted back:

oki :D

She finished the cup of coffee, entered the bedroom and got dressed. Everything was going to be alright.

"Ow..." she let out as she attached her bra. Today's choice of outfit was a pair of green jeans, a white blouse, a dark-blue vest and a yellow silk scarf to cover her massive, dark-red hickey. She put her long, blond hair in a pony tail. Now she was ready to face the world! She put on a black winter coat and grabbed the car keys.

***

Finding parking space on the mall at 12:30 on a Saturday was not easy. She did find one eventually. On a space reserved for handicapped people. Her blue little Toyota Aygo was sandwiched between a large, white Ford SUV and a minibus with a wheelchair ramp. It looked quite ridiculous, that little rat on wheels squeezed in between those large vehicles. Amalie locked the car. A cold, shivering, shuddering gush of wind on an otherwise sunny and cloudless day.

The mall was swarming with people, old and young, adjusted and misadjusted, thin and fat, happy and miserable. The odd social outcast. A gang of Emos with manga hair, lip piercings and saturnine scowls. A black cleaning assistant scraping something reddish off the floor. An old woman in a brown fur who looked like she had eaten the sourest lemon in the realm. Some obese bespectacled broad stuffing her face with a kebab the size of a grown man's arm. A young teenage girl with a glittering tiara on her chocolate-brown head of hair, standing there holding a violin case. Some smiling old man who bore a remarkable resemblance to the king of Norway.

Denise's blond head of hair with styling wax was easy to spot. She was seated by a table, taking a sip from a cup of coffee. As usual she was impeccably dressed, wearing a lime-green woolen sweater with dark-green buttons over a white turtleneck sweater, a pair of dark-green jeans and a pair of black, shiny leather boots that reached almost up to her knees. She waved elegantly with her fingers at Amalie; long, red, shiny fingernails. She smiled back, before walking over to the table. She took off her black winter coat and put it on the third chair, on top of Denise's green coat.

"Great outfit, Ams!" Denise said. - "You look like a flight attendant." Amalie looked at her with a confused stare.

"Is that a compliment?" she asked.

"Yes it is, because flight attendants are hot as Hell," Denise said with a confident smirk, before getting up. She gave Amalie a hug, gently stroking her back with her soft, warm hands.

"Ow..." Amalie let out. Denise looked at her curiously.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"No, it's just my back... It's a little bit... sore."

"Ah, I see." The two sat down. - "Working out a lot lately?"

"Yep, but not at the gym."

Denise burst out laughing, catching the attention of half the café. She gave her thumbs up with both of her hands:

"Great answer! Nice one!" She pushed Amalie's shoulder teasingly. The push made her back press against the hard chair.

"Ow..."

Denise looked at Amalie intrigued:

"So, you and Helena..." Amalie blushed with a modest smile. - "Are you...?" Amalie slowly nodded, still smiling. - "Congratulations, girl! Guess something good came out of that Danny and Sun-phie incident after all." Amalie cringed. "Way to go to sucker-punch that evil woman who had sex with your crush." A teasing smile and a gentle elbow push.

Amalie sent her a glare:

"That wasn't funny at all, Denny." She let out an embarrassed groan. - "I got a letter from the police today. I have to come and give a statement at the police station Monday morning."

"Woa," Denise said, her hand resting on Amalie's lower arm. - "She filed charges against you, didn't she?" Amalie nodded. - "Don't worry, baby. Just tell your version of what happened, how you interpreted the situation. I did the same thing when my stalker filed charges against me for kicking his a*s. I ended up paying his medical bills. Didn't serve a day in prison."

"Yeah, but Sun-phie wasn't stalking me."

"No, but she bragged about banging a guy you were in love with. You experienced temporary insanity caused by massive feelings of betrayal, of jealousy, of profound mental anguish." Serious eyes. - "Just say you lost control because you really cared for that guy and wanted to be with him. If that doesn't work, remind the police that they did keep you in confinement for 48 hours without any reason." She let go of Amalie's arm and leaned back. - "That will give them something to think about."

"I... guess so..."

Amalie led a shivering hand halfway through her hair, before stopping. She had a pony tail, so the action was quite impossible. She lowered her hand, trying not to fidget. Denise's kind eyes met hers:

"Don't worry, honey." A warming hand gently stroking her shoulder and upper arm. - "If they need a character witness, I'm there. I'll give them a character description that makes Mother Theresa sound like Saddam Hussein in comparison." A warming smile. Blue eyes that glittered beautifully in the sunlit premises. - "Everything's gonna be okay, Ams."

"I hope so."

A short pause.

"I'm gonna get a coffee," Amalie said and got up. A couple of minutes later she returned with a cup of caramel latte with whipped cream on the top. She sat down and took a sip from it. It tasted great! She licked the whipped cream off her lips in the same cute manner of that of a cat's. A poster in the nearby supermarket informed of a 20 % discount on cucumbers. Denise looked at the poster, before getting a playful expression on her face.

"You know, in Brazil they put condoms on cucumbers to make them stay fresh longer," she said. A massively random change of topic.

"What? Seriously?" Amalie asked, tilting her head, a cute wrinkle between her eyes.

"Yup." Denise nodded, taking a sip from her coffee. - "So if you see a woman buying condoms, she'll most likely use them on her cucumbers."

"But, how... I don't even... Cucumbers are large!"

"They use extra large condoms."

"But... What about the latex? Won't it leave an unpleasant aftertaste on the cucumber?"

"In Brazil they peel the cucumbers before eating them."

"What? Seriously? They peel cucumbers? But, how... Why... I..."

"Brazil is one of two countries in the world where it's customary to peel cucumbers. The other country is Poland. Brazil and Poland are cucumber peeling nations. Every other country in the world refrains from peeling their cucumbers."

"Okay... Really... That's crazy. In fact, that's beyond crazy. Cucumbers stay fresh for a long time, even without the... condoms. And they're very cheap too."

"Brazil is much warmer than Battersby. Hence, food deteriorates a lot quicklier. And Brazilians work way more than we do, so they have little time to do grocery shopping. Most Brazilians only shop once every two weeks. And cucumbers... They idolize that vegetable. They use it on everything, so they buy them in vast amounts." Denise played with the spoon in her coffee cup, her blue eyes glittering beautifully in the sunlit café.

"They obviously buy condoms in vast amounts too." Amalie took a sip from her caramel latte. - "That's crazy, Denny. And it's even crazier that you know that s**t."

Denise giggled, licking her lips.

"I've been around," she said. - "I spent two weeks in Brazil two years ago. Didn't speak a word of Portuguese when I got there, but I quickly learnt it. I had to. Not a soul there spoke English. All of them were monolingual. Even people our age. Needless to say, by the third day I managed to order a meal at a restaurant. Long live pocket-size dictionaries." She leaned over the table. - "And the cucumbers are the best I've ever tasted. Condoms really help." A secretive smile. - "Too bad they don't have that large condoms here. Now I have to slice the cucumbers in half in order to--"

"Denny, I don't even wanna know!" Amalie let out a perplexed laugh. - "Why the Hell don't you use a plastic bag? They're a lot cheaper and can actually hold an entire cucumber!"

Denise sent her a daring look:

"There's a marked difference between a plastic bag and a condom. Once you've tried condom cucumbers, you never wanna go back to plastic bag cucumbers."

"So, Denny, you have--" She burst out laughing. - "--a fridge full of cucumbers covered in condoms?"

"Half cucumbers covered in condoms," Denise corrected. - "Like I said, they don't have extra large condoms here."

Amalie laughed so hard that her body convulsed. Her twisting and bending made the straps of the bra gnaw against the claw marks on her back.

"Ow..." she let out.

"Your back is really killing you, Ams," Denise said. - "Have you stretched a muscle back there?"

"It's not my muscles that's killing me," Amalie said.

"Not your muscles?"

Amalie swiftly and briefly shook her head. The movements caused more pain. She tried not to move too much, before taking another sip of her caramel latte. Denise finished her cup of coffee.

"Got any plans for the evening?" she asked after a brief pause.

"No. Helena's working all weekend, so I'm stuck with nothing to do. How about you?"

"Pretty much Dullsville over here too. Wanna come over to my place and have a drink? Or maybe even a cucumber, too?" A teasing grin. Amalie sent her a sarcastic grin in return.

"As long as we don't end up shooting your tampons all over the place."

Denise burst out in howling laughter. Now every head on ground floor turned to their table. She laughed loud and powerfully for a long time.

"I promise, Ams!" she exclaimed with a wide smile. - "No tampon shooting!"

Before at least fifty jaw-dropped, big-eyed people Amalie and Denise got up and left the café.

Reviews

[Rayzor]

Kinky. Liked it a lot. Your words flow greatly and vividly (adverbs, I know).

Will be reading more

[Danomaly1983]

Thanks a lot, Rayzor :D