Peaches

The Peach as a Sexual Experience
I love peaches....no, love is too mild a word... I ADORE peaches. Every summer, when the time is right, I stalk the stalls at the farmer's market waiting on the ripest peaches to be rolled out. Around the month of May the anticipation has become almost palpable and I can't wait until June to get my hands on my favorite juicy fruits.





Foreplay
In sexual terms foreplay can refer to any action that gets the sexual fires started. Touch is definitely one of those. Touching a peach is everything when it comes to picking the right one. I pick up the peach and rub it, gently, to see how plush it is. I take the peach firmly in the palm of my hand and run my fingers around the globe, pressing very, very gently, to see if the peach has any "give" to it. The juiciest peaches are slightly soft, exceptionally ripe. If it feels right in your hands then you just know when you bite into it that you will feel the juice burst out onto your tongue. Another key trait to look for is the color. Darker peaches are usually more ripe and therefore are sweeter and juicier than ones with more of a blush on it. After I've picked my peach, and when all the rubbing, smelling and groping are done, I head home, near to bursting with all that juicy goodness waiting to be savored.




IntercourseHere's a definition for you:
Intercourse \In"ter*course\, n.1. A commingling; intimate connection or dealings between persons or nations, interchange of thought and feeling; association; communion. [1913 Webster]

So I've picked my peach. I'm home alone and waiting on just the right moment to bite into my peach. My anticipation could not be stronger. I'm thinking of all the possibilities. See, every peach is different. Some can be really really juicy but not all that sweet. Others can be really really sweet but not all that juicy. You're always hoping that you find that one peach, that one in a million peach, that is both. Once, when I was still a young teenager my mom, my sister and I were on a trip back home after visiting relatives. There was a roadside fruit stand and my mom, on impulse, pulled over and bought some peaches. They were so lovely! As soon as my mom paid the man for the peaches I grabbed the biggest one and in a fit of impatience that only the young can fully appreciate I bit into the peach. God it was heavenly! I used my mouth and my tongue to bite down into the flesh and then suck, suck all the nectar into my mouth. It was divine! There was just the right amount of sweetness on my tongue. The peach was so full that the juices ran down my arm. I'm telling you, that peach was beyond delicious....and I'm hoping the one I'm about to eat is nearly as good.




I grab my chosen peach, forcefully, gently, longingly, and I put it up to my lips. I take a moment to smell the sweet, tart, tangy smell of the peach. My heart beats a little faster, my senses sharpen, my mouth waters. I relish the feel of its fuzz against my lips....Then, because I cannot bear to wait another minute, I bite into the flesh. Juices flood over, into my mouth, down my arm and past that part of my brain that distinguishes the act of intercourse with someone from the act of intercourse with something, namely this peach. I am reminded of how hard it has been these past few months to be without my beloved summer peaches. I am reminded of why I love being a southern girl who is in love with southern peaches. I am reminded that I am in love again...with a peach....

To everything there is a season and your season, dear peach, has come back around. Thank goodness for that! Gracious, baby, how I've missed you!