SUN FUCKING

   
   He paints my lips with the juicy slice of mango I handed him five
minutes ago when I was still wearing most of my bathing suit.  He runs the
mango

   slice across my labia like shy fingers asking for permission to dip
deeper.  I close my eyes and feel the sun burning across my breasts, my
stomach, my hot, sweaty face.  For a moment I pretend that he is the sun,
lying on the beach beside me, trailing rays like solar flares across my
pussy.  I turn his touch hotter in my mind, make him orange and burning,
close my eyes and pretend that if I open them I will be blinded.  I have
always been in love with the sun.  I have always wanted to fuck the sun.

   The mango pokes its sweet head inside me and turns my pussy tangy and
tart.  His head lowers until his long, dark bangs tickle my ass, his nose
is against my clit; his mouth closes on the mango and he chews the mango in

   half.  He laughs softly and makes a noise in his throat.  He swallows,
lips against my labia, and then his tongue digs for the other half of
mango. Digs, nudges, retrieves.  He chews gently with my labia in his
mouth, releases them when I gasp loudly.

   Mas, I whisper, por favor.  I like speaking Spanish, I like the
trembling r's and tonguey vowels, all those e's running around pretending
to be a's.

   He follows with an apple, a wide, crooked chunk I cut while he licked my

   knees, slid his tongue, teeth, and lips up my thighs.  His mouth was
soft and wet against my skin, his hands warm against the backs of my
calves, wandering up to the backs of my knees, fingers across them like a
child's crayolas across pliant paper.  I was lucky not to cut off one of my
own fingers.

   He is my third lover on this trip so far, a pretty young man, young
enough to be legal back in the U.S.  Just barely.  I think.

   My original idea was to have a man in each and every state of the Union
in order to celebrate my first mid-life crisis (I am 31 years old).  Then I
started to think about states like Alaska and Maine and Wisconsin and North
Dakota, full of white-haired, white-whiskered old men with cold feet and

   inhibitions.  Instead I headed south with no particular schedule,
program, or checklist and decided I would fuck every beautiful, warm brown
man I wanted to.  This has been a much better idea.  I will never think of
fruit

   salad, beaches, or laying out in the sun the same way again.

   Even in my wet pussy the apple slice seems sharp, somehow, irritating. I

   open my eyes until they are slits, run my hands down the edge of the
blanket through the sand, reach down, and pull the apple from his lips.  I
bring it to mine, stuff the whole slice into my mouth at once, and crunch
it up carnivorously.  I growl at him a little bit and his eyes look a
little uncertain.  Then again, I am just some crazy American woman who
speaks a little Spanish, moving from beach to beach, tan and healthy and
not at all dangerous.  Maybe.  I think.

   I sit up, raise him up, move a little bit away from him.  I want to lay
in the sun again, feel the passion, the delightful frustration of
postponing my orgasm burn even hotter in the high noon sun.  I flip over
and slap his hands away from my breasts as I move.  I smile at him and
shake my head.

   Later, I say, no ahora.

   Less than a minute later I feel warm oil dribbled across my back, onto
my ass, down a leg.  His hands rub the oil into me briskly, stop at my
knees.  He drowns the back of my knee in oil.  The puddle is warm and thick
and I sigh and close my eyes.  I relax, inhale, exhale, sigh.  The sun lays
hot skin against my flesh, blows hot breath against my naked ass, licks
between my toes, rises against me for a new day.  My gorgeous boy spreads
the oil all over the back of my knee, massages me, bends my leg up gently.

   I'm not sure how he got out of his shorts, but I feel his penis hard
against me, rolling in the oil all over the back of my leg.  His penis is
against the back of my knee; he bends my leg up a little more so that his
dick is sandwhiched between my calf and my thigh.  He holds my leg there,
pushing

   against it every few seconds, and his penis slides back and forth in the

   tight grip of my leg.  His breath is quick and hard.  I close my eyes,
feel his cock, feel the throbbing of my own cunt.

   He moves away from me briefly, and then his finger moves to my ass,
draws an oily smear across my tight asshole.  His warm tongue finds me
next, pulses against me like a petulant heart, beats deeper into me.  I
clench up and move my hand towards his head to push him away.

   But this trip is about doing whatever I want, going where I want to go,
and being who I want to be.  There is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong
with lying on a beach with a gorgeous man's tongue in my ass.

   I relax, ahhhhhhh a little, moan, open my mouth and let whatver wants to

   escape come out.  I make noises I've never heard before.  His tongue and
his finger take turns against my anus, prodding, and I feel like a thousand
new nerve endings have hatched in my skin, nurtured by his hot tongue, his
sunny tongue, the rays of the sun against my sticky skin, fruit broken all
around us.