The Pickle Lady

I love pickles. Sweet, dill, big, small, I have a passion for pickles. Therefore I was overjoyed when I met the pickle lady. I chanced upon a farmer's market one Saturday morning in a new part of town. At least it was new to me. There was the obligatory table displaying jars of pickles in various shapes, sizes and flavors. There was a small hand-made sign saying The Pickle Lady and, behind the table the pickle lady herself.

She appeared to be on the far side of 50, like me. She had blonde hair, a buxom figure, a round face and a warm smile. I walked up to her table and said, "Are these pickles for sale?"

"Absolutely," she replied. "Would you like a sample?"

"Sure," I said, "which one would you suggest?"

"What kind of pickles do you like?"

"All kinds," I said.

"Ah, a man after my own heart."

I smiled at that and thought I might also be after her body. I sampled several and bought a couple of jars. As we finished the transaction I said, "Does the pickle lady have a name?"

"Polly," she replied, "Polly Pickle."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. I married a man named Pickle. He was of Italian descent and I believe the original family name was Piccolo but, as so often happened, it was shortened when his ancestors arrived at Ellis Island. Apparently the person who registered them had a sense of humor."

"My name is Dillon, Dillon Sweet, but my friends call me Dill."

"Dill Sweet," she replied, "what an appropriate name for a pickle lover."

"Exactly."

"Well I hope you enjoy your pickles and come back and see me. I'm here every Saturday morning."

I did enjoy the pickles and I was there, bright and early, the following Saturday. As I approached her table she gave me a big smile and said, "Mr. Sweet, it's nice to see you again. Did you enjoy your pickles?"

"Indeed I did," I replied, "and I've come back for more."

As I sampled her wares we chatted and I asked her, "Are you married?"

"Used to be," she said "but my husband died several years ago. How about you?"

"Same as you, used to be married but my wife passed away about six months ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said.

"Thank you," I replied.

"Well, enjoy your pickles, Dill."

"Thank you, Polly."

The next Saturday I was back at her table again. She smiled and said, "Mr. Sweet you're becoming my best customer."

"So it would seem," I said, "do you give discounts to good customers?"

"I'll have to think about that," she said. "I've never done that but that's not a bad idea."

She pondered for a moment and then she said, "Instead of a discount how would you like a demonstration?"

"That sounds interesting," I said, "what did you have in mind?"

"Are you doing anything special this afternoon?"

"No," I said.

"Then why don't you come out to my place and I'll show you some of the amazing things I can do with pickles."

"Sounds good to me."

She gave me directions to her house and I left with a smile on my face and some questions in my mind.

Her house was out in the country. Her directions were good and I soon found a small house at the end of a quiet lane. The house appeared to be well-maintained and it was surrounded by rows and rows of - you guessed it - cucumber vines - also well maintained.

As I got out of my car she came out onto the porch.

"I heard you drive up," she said. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for asking," I replied.

"Let me show you my cucumber plants and then we'll go inside for a glass of iced tea, or something stronger if you prefer," she said.

"Sounds delightful."

She gave me the tour, explaining the various varieties, pointing out which were the best for each pickle variety, even a bit of the history of cucumbers. After a while she said, "Well it's getting rather warm out here. Why we don't go inside where it's cooler."

"Show me the way," I said.

She laughed and said, "Follow me."

I followed her into her house. It was small but very neat and tidy and not at all fussy. She apparently was not one of those women who believe in nick-nacks and that was, to me, an admirable trait.

"Very nice," I said.

"Thank you. What would like to drink. I have iced tea or cold beer. Name your poison."

"I'll have whatever you're having," I said.

"I think I'll have a beer. As they say, it's five o'clock somewhere."

I laughed and she went into the kitchen, returning shortly with two steins of beer. She set them both down on a coffee table in front of the sofa and sat down, From the side by side placement of the steins I deduced that she wanted me to sit beside her so I did. I took a taste of the beer and then another and remarked, "This is excellent beer. What kind is it?"

"It's home made," she said.

"Really? It's excellent. You are a woman of many talents."

"Thank you," she said, "it's refreshing to meet a man with good taste."

We sat and sipped and chatted. She was very intelligent and extremely witty, at least she laughed at all my jokes in the right places. We drained our first stein of beer and were halfway through our second stein when I said, "I haven't had such a pleasant afternoon since I can't remember when."

She smiled and said, "Ditto."

She turned to me with an expectant look on her face and I slowly moved my mouth toward hers. She didn't flinch or move away so I kissed her and then I kissed her again. On the third kiss our tongues began to play with each other and I could feel my cock beginning to stiffen.

I pulled away from her and said, "I can't tell you how enjoyable this is."

"Good," she replied, "perhaps we could make it a regular thing."

"Absolutely."

She smiled and then she said, "About that demonstration."

"Yes?"

"I'd like to save it for sometime in the future."

"How about tomorrow?"

"We'll see," she said, "why don't you come by for lunch."

Sensing that a few kisses were all she was up for this day I left after promising to return for lunch the next day.

Our Sunday lunch was hearty. Saurkraut, cole slaw, brats, beer and, of course, pickles.

After lunch we took a stroll around her place and ended up on her porch swing for some more senior citizen necking. This time she let me fondle her ample breasts through her clothing. Perhaps I could have strived for more but I'm a patient man and sensed that she would be worth the wait.

After a while I said, "About that demonstration."

She laughed and said, "I would like to save that for the next time we are together but I can assure you that you will enjoy the demonstration." She smiled and there was devilish twinkle in her eye.

"I can hardly wait," I said.

"Well, hard it will be," she said, "Come back tomorrow evening and I'll show you."

"You've got a deal," I said.

We agreed that I would be back the next night and I drove home, wondering all the way exactly what her demonstration entailed.

The next night I was at her place with a smile on my face, a spring in my step and a ton of curiosity. We had another delicious dinner of pot roast, new potatoes, cooked carrots and, of course, pickles. After dinner we sat in her living room, sipping wine and smiling at each other.

"About that demonstration," I said.

She smiled and kissed me and said, "We've already started."

"I don't understand," I said.

She laughed and said, "Give me a minute or two and I'll show you how I can turn a little sweet gherkin into a big, salty dill and then back again." And then she placed one of my hands on one of her ample breasts and dropped her hand to my leg and began to gently caress my thigh.

I gently squeezed her breast and kissed her more fervently as I felt her fingers moving up and down my thigh, getting closer to my cock with every move. She stopped for a moment, removed my eager hand from her breast and began to unbutton her blouse. I watched with avid amazement as she removed her blouse and than her bra and exposed her breasts to me, cupping them invitingly. I looked at her lovingly for a breath or two and then began to touch and fondle her breasts while she resumed rubbing my thigh. I leaned over and took one lovely breast into my mouth and she responded by putting her hand on my cock which was, by now, straining at it's cloth confines.

She laughed and said, "I think it's working. I know it's working."

I laughed and said, "I think I get the picture."

"I knew you would," she said, "abra cadabra, allakazam and presto your little sweet gherkin has become a big, salty dill."

"You're sure about that," I said.

"I'll be positive as soon as I've tasted it."

"I can hardly wait."

"Hard seems to be a very apt and very delightful description," she said, "but before we continue let's get more comfortable." She stood up and said, "Follow me."

I stood up and followed her into her bedroom. The bedspread was already turned back and the sheets looked crisp and freshly laundered. She lit a candle, turned towards me and began to undress. I did the same. She folded her clothes and laid them neatly on a chair and I tried to do the same although not as neatly as her. When we were both naked we looked each other up and down and I hope she liked what she saw. I certainly liked what I saw. Her breasts were full with just the slightest sag, crowned by pink aureolas and prominent nipples. Her hips were fairly broad and her belly showed a little paunch but she was still curvaceous and quite feminine in a mature way.

"Fantastic," I said.

She laughed and said, "I think you may be exaggerating but thank you for the compliment."

I laughed and said, "Well I may be a little light-headed."

She laughed and said, "That's understandable. It appears that a lot of your blood has gone straight to your pickle and it's a fine looking pickle if I may say so."

"You may, and thank you for saying it."

"I imagine it's fine tasting too," she said.

"Be my guest," I said.

"No, you're the guest here so lie down and let me continue my demonstration."

I did as she asked and stretched out on her bed. She came and sat beside me and put one hand on my cock, giving it a loving squeeze. I put one hand between her legs and trailed my fingers up the inside of her thighs. She parted her legs and sighed as I began to play with her pussy. She leaned forward and took my cock into her mouth slowly and sweetly, licking and murmuring while she did so.

I responded with a sigh of my own and gently parted her nether lips and felt her womanly wetness. I removed my fingers momentarily, brought them to my lips and licked them. "You taste sweet," I said.

"Sweets for the sweet," she replied.

"I want more," I said.

"Help yourself," she said, "You're a very special guest and I don't want you to go home hungry."

"I may never want to go home."

"Well, we'll see about that. In the meantime I think you were about to give me a taste test," she said.

"Absolutely," I said, "don't go away."

I left the bedroom, went into the dining room and returned with two chairs.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm setting the table and you're the feast," i said. "Sit down on the edge of the bed and lie back."

She did and I arranged the chairs side by side with enough room for me to kneel between them. I put one of her feet on one chair and the other foot on the other chair, put one bed pillow underneath her head, another on the floor, dropped to my knees and positioned myself between her legs.

"My, oh my," she said, "I do love an organized man."

I laughed and said, "When I dine at a five star restaurant I believe in eating in style and comfort."

"Five stars? Are you sure?"

"Just you wait and see and get ready to see stars."

I began to trail licks, kisses and nibbles up one leg to almost the main course and then up the other, stopping each time just short of my destination.

"How am I doing?" I asked.

"Definitely one star."

I gently parted her labia and dipped my tongue into her sweetness, savoring the taste of her.

She flexed her legs slightly and said, "Two stars."

I gently trailed my fingers up her inner thighs and dipped two of them into vagina and began to flex and stroke with them.

"Three stars," she cried out with a bit more emotion in her voice.

I moved my tongue up and found her clitoris, a tiny tasty bud which was poking it's head out of hiding. I began to lick and nibble on it while my fingers continued to dance inside of her.

After a moment or two she cried out, "Four stars," more lustily this time.

I chuckled and began to dine and devour her, relishing her unique taste, capturing her clitoris between my tongue and upper teeth. I established a steady rhythm with my tongue and fingers, lapping, nibbling, licking and stroking relentlessly and in another moment or two she heaved her body upward toward my face, I felt her vagina walls contracting around my fingers and she cried out, "Five stars."

I smiled and stood up. After a moment she opened her eyes and looked at me lovingly, at my smiling face while I licked my lips and then her gaze dropped to my erect cock.

"My, my," she said, "is that for me?"

"Whenever and wherever you want it."

"I want it now wherever you want to put it."

"With such delightful options it's hard to decide," I said.

She laughed and said, "well don't take too long to make up your mind. He looks like he's ready."

I laughed and moved closer to the bed. I pulled her up to a sitting position and offered my cock to her. She clasped it gently and then more firmly and dropped her head enough to take it full into her mouth. She cupped and fondled my balls while she licked and sucked and I was ecstatic.

"God you're good," I said.

She took her mouth off my cock long enough to say thank you and then resumed. I relished in her oral ravishment for a bit longer and then I pulled back and asked her to lie down. She did so with her butt still positioned on the edge of the bed. I moved forward, grabbed both of her legs, held them up and spread them. She smiled and, reaching down, positioned my penis at her heavenly gate.

She said, "Go slow at first. It's been quite a while since there's been a man's pickle in this particular jar."

I chuckled and did as she requested, slowly and gingerly pushing inside of her while she relaxed and accepted my gift. Inch by inch I moved inside until I could go no further.

"How does this feel?" I asked.

"Perfect. Just the right size."

"Good," I replied and began the slow eternal thrusting that man has done with woman since day one. As I grew more excited and she became more responsive I quickened my pace and began to slam into her as hard as I could.

"Do you like it? Do you want it?"

"Give it to me lover, give it all to me," she gasped.

And so I did and as I did she flexed her muscles around my cock, milking me lovingly as I spent myself completely inside her loving body.

"Wow," I said, "that was fantastic."

"Oh yes," she said, "oh yes."

I laid down beside her and we held each other close while we caught our breath. We talked about mundane things and touched each other lovingly.

"I hope you'll come back and see me," she said.

"You can bet your life on that."

"Good."

After a while she propped herself on one elbow and began to touch and play with my penis which had returned to it's normal, rather small and average size. I smiled and said, "that feels good."

"I think I'm gonna love this little fellow," she said, "I know I'm gonna love turning him into a big fellow."

"Be my guest," I said, "although I doubt that's gonna happen anytime soon."

"We shall see what we shall see," she said and continued to play with me. My cock was still wet from our love-making and she added to the moisture by moving her hand to her mouth and wetting it with her spit. She stroked my slowly and fondled my balls with her other hand.

"I love your little sweet gherkin," she said.

"Thank you. Show me how much you love it."

She smiled and took me into her mouth and slowly began to suck all the while caressing and fondling my balls. Then, lo and behold and miracle of miracles my cock started to respond and grow inside her mouth. She quickened her pace, increased the suction and surprisingly I achieved an almost full erection.

"That feels fantastic," I said.

She laughed and said, "I don't know if I can make you cum again but I wanted to show you how I could transform a little sweet gherkin into a big, salty, juicy dill and apparently I can."

I laughed and said, "Well, Polly Pickle, my little pickle is yours for as long as you want it."

"Good," she said, "now I can use all those cucumbers for pickles instead of dildos."

"You use cucumbers for dildos?"

"Certainly, why else to you suppose I started growing them, but the darned things seem to proliferate so I decided to go into the pickle business."

"Amazing," I said.

"Exactly."