The Secret of Silk

Here!” He thrust the basket at her. She took it, and its weight nearly toppled her. She gingerly set it down on the veranda. It overflowed with perfectly round green watermelons, long eggplants, and black tubers. "It’s from Granny. She sends her greetings. She said you saw her the other day.” He stood awkwardly, and at a distance, scratching his head.

She stared him as he kicked a rock and watched it roll away.

Neither spoke.

She began to paw through the care package from his quirky priestess granny. She’d never seen the black root vegetable before. The length and thickness of her forearm, it looked like a daikon radish, but black as coal.

"Betcha never seen that. It’s called a Karasu Daikon. It’ll keep you in the cool humors during the next few days. Granny says it’s going to get hot around here.”

She patted the floor next to her. He hesitated and then sat carefully down, his torso just a feather’s distance away from her. She put down the daikon and reached for the eggplant. It was cool, magnificently thick and smooth to her grip.

He reached over, grasped the watermelon with one big hand and knocked it lightly on the stepping-stone. It cracked open easily, effortlessly, willingly, glistening red flesh and juice dripped down his palm, drenching his wrist. He broke off a smaller section for her while biting eagerly into the flesh of the larger piece. They devoured the crisp flesh hungrily. Sweet summer juices ran from lips, dripped off chins, and trickled down necks.

She tossed her head back to flip her hair off her face when he leaned in. He leaned in and kissed the stream of sweetness flowing down her neck. Her heart leapt into her mouth, and a moan escaped her lips. He kissed and drank his way up her neck to her ear. The pieces of watermelon rind fell out of their hands and tumbled into the dirt.

Her hands shot up to his head and sweet-slicked fingers tangled into his jet-black hair. He pushed her down—or had she pulled him onto her—his arms planted on either side of her as she threw her head back, giving him full access to her flushed throat. He kissed and licked her neck, then brushed her lips with his. She locked her arms around his massive back and pulled herself closer into his juice-soaked shirt. He slid an arm under her and with one quick shift brought them both onto the veranda, stretched fully, his weight and heat bearing down on her. His thigh pressed onto hers, asking a question. She answered with a hip thrust. He moaned.

Copyright © 2019 Midori

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