# Street of Dreams (Interactive)



## 1300 Class (Nov 24, 2005)

BBW, whatever direction it takes. 

_*Street of Dreams*_. 

It was raining again. Ever since Monday it had been raining almost constantly, rarely even giving the sun a chance to shine through and enlighten the earth. Living in a ninth story flat in a twenty story building, it still sounded heavy. It was dark and grey outside, almost impenetrable, the clouds hanging low in the sky. The television blared out some infomercials from the pay television channel, more mindless advertising. 

Diana Clipton, alone at the age of 22. A widow, her young husband killed overseas, both parents dead in a car crash three years previous, she was alone in her world. Although the pension and the inheritance allowed her to not lift a finger in work if she lived a modest life, she was not even doing that. Her flat was both her paradise and her prison. The occasional venture to the shops or down the main street were the limit of her forays into the world. Pay Television and the Internet provided the rest. Her body covered by a getting old dressing silk dressing gown, she turned away from the television to look out over the town. 

Perhaps 40,000 people lived in East Cheam, and Diana knew perhaps three or four at most now. When she was at school she could have been the life blood of any party, to clever by half, she could have been witty and charming given a chance, but now there was little chance for that. The rain was awful she thought to herself, but at least it encapsulated her in her world. It was approaching lunch, reheated take-away most likely from the bowels of the refrigerator. She strolled into the kitchenette and turned on the gas oven, grasping the fridge door and taking the previous nights Vindaloo, leaving it on the bench until the oven heated up. 

Diana made her way to the bathroom and stood looking into the mirror. Her dark brown hair had began to grow long. _Maybe I should get it cut one day._ She pondered to herself. Diana stared at herself in the mirror - as if searching for something hidden by her face. She slid the silk gown off, revelling her body to herself, yet it seemed almost foreign in nature. She stood there naked, just looking in the mirror. At 510 Diana was not short, her dark brown hair beginning to grow long. Just staring. She stepped over to the scales, and waited for the hand to stop. 129 pounds and half. _Maybe a little to much._ She muttered, looking down, at her curves. Defiantly a pear, there was the smallest of small layers of flab on her stomach. It was more a smooth layer around her midsection that seamlessly flowed down past her hips and into her thighs, they were a little soft as she ran her hand against them. She looked to her breasts, roughly on the verge between a B and a C, her shallow narrow-minded claimed them to be her greatest assets, however her sane voice said she had much more to offer the world. She felt both happy and sad about her body, but in her life she didnt particularly care anymore. It was Dianas, and would do as she wished with it, with neither the world nor its wife to say yay or nay to it. _Damn it, I need a holiday away from this place._ She said to herself, for there was nobody else to hear it. 

Diana spent the rest of the night dreaming of places to go. The sunny sands of the Med, the wintry mountains of Europe, far off places like India or Australia, places that to her seemed an entire world away. After drifting in almost aimless thought she hoped onto the internet and began searching for the best deals out of the country, away from boredom and dreariness. There were a number of equally appealing offers, all seemed so good and interesting, but for the life of her, she could not make up her mind, staring at the computer screen in her darkened flat. It began to rain again, the droplets cascading down the windows. 
[/FONT]


_Where should Diana Go?_
&#8470; 1. The Sunny Med. 
&#8470; 2. The Wintery Alps
&#8470; 3. India/Far East


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## fatlane (Nov 24, 2005)

India...............


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## Cheryl05 (Nov 24, 2005)

Austalian Lord didn't indicate exactly what he had in mind, so I could be mistaken. However, I think the idea is supposed to be that you write several paragraphs on one of the three choices and then give three new options at the end. If I'm right this idea could be interesting but also confusing in this format uinless we are careful to follow the choice of the person before us and not go branching to an omitted choice.


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## 1300 Class (Nov 24, 2005)

Well not exactly, it was more, choose which ever outcome, then I would write it, but that sounds like a good idea for a seperate project.


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## Cheryl05 (Nov 24, 2005)

Thanks for straightening me out. I'll try to play by the rules.

First consideration: where is East Cheam where ouir poor heroine is situated?

As a Yankee rebel colnial by your perceptions I hadn't a clue, and apparently many Brits think it a myth too. But I happen to know what the Domeasday Book was, and it turns out it was a recognized district in that day and remained so until its owner sold it off to King Henry -- see http://www.sutton.gov.uk/NR/rdonlyres/429FDB3B-2992-41DE-BDE6-48F40FC6F0E2/0/21HeritageScene.pdf

So this girl is rich, drifting and in a flat somewhere near London. With all their fog, how dreary! Personally I would like the Mediterannean cuisine rather than the currys of India (which are certainly not bad). But we need a guy in this story so for your purposes I would opt for the Alps to begin with.

Let's see who else wants to play!


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## TheOwl (Nov 28, 2005)

She had been on the page now for a whole ten minutes all the information entered for her holiday all she needed to do was press the confirm button, but she kept on having doubts. It had been along time now since she had interacted with the world and she was not sure she was ready. Then in a moment of confidence she hit the button and committed her self to a fortnight sunning herself in Mallorca. 

Diana started sorting through some of her old clothes but found that all her old summer clothes were just a little too sung. She also was not going to be wearing one of her bikinis that she had as she did not feel confident enough to wear them in front of others anymore. So Diana dashed out in rain across to the local shops to fit herself some new clothes for her trip. She picked out a variety of summer attire which was not too revealing and a new one piece swimming costume. 

Eager to get back home she headed straight back home as soon as she was finished although she got waylaid as she stopped of at the pizza takeaway to pick herself up a meat feast for the evening. She spent an night like so many recently, slumped in front of the television first ploughing through the pizza, then a couple of bags of sweets totally zoned out. In two days though, she might be in a Cala d’Or restaurant, eating paella and washing it down with some sangria.

She spent the next couple of days being very anxious, she had all ready packed and really had nothing left to do. Therefore she took to snacking throughout the day to take her mind of the huge step forward she was forcing herself into. She would pace around her small flat for a while, then return to the sofa only to be pacing around again five minutes later.

The night before she did not sleep a wink all night but she had not changed her mind, she was more determined than ever that she was going to go. The nerves stayed with her all the time as she left her flat at eight, when she got out the cab at the airport at nine thirty, as she boarded the plane at eleven forty. Then though at eleven fifty three as the plane took off all her fears lifted at once and as she looked out of the small window of the plane she noticed it must have just stopped raining.

She celebrated this new feeling of liberation with a little bottle of wine out of the trolley brought down the aisle, Diana found however it did not last very long so got herself another couple for the rest of the journey. The in-flight meal, like most in-flight meals was edible but not much more, the chicken was flavourless the carrots were rubbery and it left her thinking again about the treats she could have when she landed.

When she got out of the plane the heat suddenly hit her and she realised how impractical her clothes were. Neither her top nor her jeans gave her skin any chance to get cool, the entire coach ride to the resort she was getting increasingly sweaty and was cursing the fact she had chosen such stupid selection of clothes for the entire trip. First impressions of her apartments were very good, the pool was nice and large, the staff seemed friendly, the place looked well maintained and the restaurant looked well worth a trip. She settled into her apartment quickly, changed into some of the few lighter clothes she had brought and thought about what to do next. She had seen on the coach on the way into town in a lovely marina, there was still a couple of hour sun left so she could go down to the beach or she could grab a late lunch at the hotels restaurant to make up for the one on the plane.


Where should Diana Go First?
&#8470; 1. Go sunbathing on the beach
&#8470; 2. A walk through the marina
&#8470; 3. Try out the hotel restaurant


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## Cheryl05 (Nov 28, 2005)

Slowly Diana exited her room, taking in the sounds and feel of a foreign country. Her intent was to head towards the marina, looking at some of the shops and street vendors along the way. But in the lobby she was distracted by the sound of flamenco music wafting through the air from Carloss Cantina. It was a Mexican themed restaurant in the Spanish resort, catering to the American tourists unfamiliar with the nuances of difference between the Hispanic cultures. Margaritas were on sale for half price, and she really hadnt enjoyed the lunch on the plane.

She entered the cantina and was escorted to her seat, her capris somewhat snug against her belly. She ordered a strawberry margarita, along with nachos and guacamole. The margarita was large and flavorful, the lips of the glass lightly salted. She sipped it slowly, but even with the chips and guacamole the full impact of the Tequila supplemented by Cointreau slowly began to hit her. She knew she would need to eat a solid meal before walking very far anywhere.

She beckoned to the waiter and ordered a taco and burrito grande platter. She waited, eating nachos and guacamole while watching the seagulls lazily patrolling the bay, the soft flamenco guitar in the background. After perhaps twenty minutes it arrived  a huge burrito filled with chicken, cheese and chiles, accompanied by three good sized taco plus rice and beans on a plate 18 inches wide. A side warmer contained three moist tortillas. Diana was hungry, the food looked divine, but she wondered how much of this huge feast she could consume! 

Slowly, deliberately she began eating. The atmosphere was serene, her stomach relaxed from the margarita, and over the course of an hour she managed to pack the entire meal away. The waistband of her capris complained and she slipped it down to give her belly room.

Would Senorita like some refried ice cream, the waiter inquired. Diana knew nothing of the dish, but after the hot Mexican food ice cream in any form sounded attractive.

Why not? She replied. And the waiter brought her a large service of ice cream coated in Chocolate and festooned with nuts. It was cold and wonderful. 

Diana had now been in the Cantina for nearly two hours and it was dusk. She paid her bill and rose to leave.

She next:

&#8470; 1. Goes to her room cause shes stuffed and needs to sleep 
&#8470; 2. Goes to her room to change out of the now too-tight capris before going shopping
&#8470; 3. Starts for her room but Is stopped by a well dressed Mexican gentleman who asks if she would like to watch some dancing in the amphitheater


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## 1300 Class (Nov 29, 2005)

If its not to much to ask, I think we should try and keep this as psdueo-realistic as possible, loving it so far.


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