It was a steamy hot day. Juan walked through the market at the center of town. He saw the sweet little Crenshaws sitting at the produce stand; two delicious melons. Big and firm they pulled at the seams of the tarp that scarcely covered them. Tinges of their rich golden skin poked from the gap at the top- calling to him. He couldn’t help but stare at those large luscious lovelies. Crenshaw didn’t mind; she welcomed his gaze.

He moved closer, standing in front; she smelled his ravenous breath, his chest pounding. The pretty purveyor gave him a seductive little smile. Putting one finger between her two full-sized succulents she slowly pulled the tarp down exposing her fruit in all their ripe and rounded glory. He wanted them; he needed them, he couldn’t live without them.

With shaking hands he reached to touch them, looking to her for permission to continue. She smiled; he reached further, finally resting his thumbs on the small soft stems at their centers, he gently caressed them. She made a gleeful moan.