July 13, 2004

Cherries...slightly overripe, blood red, succulent...a single cherry between his fingers...silent strength squeezing the crimson juice onto her lips...a drop of moisture escaping from its fruit skin prison...sliding effortlessly across her waiting mouth...an errant drop landing on her chin...his tongue responds like a snake...capturing the random droplet...then stopping to bite her bottom lip...hard.

Blueberries...round, firm, the color of night...deliberately he places them down her length like a string of blue pearls...the first one lightly resting in the hollow of her throat...one by one...between the hollow of her breasts...he stops at her navel...and marvels at the contrast of color and the similarity of skin texture between the blue orbs and this woman’s flesh...one by one...he removes them starting at her belly...with his tongue he rolls them slowly into his mouth...tantalizing her flesh...tasting the fruit...tasting the woman.

Raspberries...plump balls of vermillion flesh and juice...soft and easily manipulated...pulled from stems to find themselves sitting patiently in an earthenware dish...he studies them...rich colors ranging from red to dark burgundy...roundly elongated...he smiles and picks one up...studying it and marveling at the similarities between the fruit and the woman’s nipples...soft and easily manipulated...rich in color and responding to a pull of the fingers...he lowers the single morsel to her nipple...he smiles and remembers picking berries as a child...looking carefully...finding the juiciest, plumpest...then quickly pulling the treasure from its stem and popping it into his mouth...he smiles again...and views the two berries he is about to pick.

Strawberries...crimson red and almost abrasive with their seeded skins...he removes one from the basket...still wet with dew from its garden home...he lifts it to his mouth and bites into the tumescent flesh...savoring the flavor that fills his mind with memories of another kind of pink flesh...deliberately he takes the half-eaten fruit and slides it across her mons...slowly...applying enough pressure to release the juice still waiting within the berry...the juice slides down between her labial cleft...he watches...sliding the fruit downward in an effort to catch up to its escaping lifeblood...back and forth...back and forth...moist pink flesh meeting moist pink flesh...he stops...contemplates the berry...her movements...he removes the fruit and pops it into his mouth...it is warm and softer now...he was hungry...she can wait.