Peaches, the sexiest fruit

I love peaches.

They're beautiful to look at, flushed and golden, the color of a sunrise.

You hold one in the palm of your hand, feel the weight, the solidity of the fruit, the delicate velvety fuzz. Your fingers may trace a flaw or crease, created as the fruit has swelled and ripened. If your peach is fresh from the tree or found at an outside market, it will hold the warmth of the sun and possibly a delicate green leaf.

You may get a hint of the scent, the perfume as you hold the fruit, even before you take that first glorious bite--sometimes you have to; you can't wait for a knife and plate and the pleasures of civilized dining. The skin slicks away like a wet, red rag and juice fills your mouth, maybe even spilling out to dribble down your chin as the fruit, firm enough to present a little resistance, breaks and yields.

Careful now; your teeth grate against the pit, the ridged secret center. The flesh may spring away, or you may have to tease those last pieces of fruit, work them free with tongue and teeth.
When you lift the pit away, the impression is etched onto the hollow, red and crinkled, rough against your lips and tongue; there's a slight bitterness at the center, soon forgotten as you devour the sweet gold of the peach, juice on your lips and face and fingers.

Yes, I love peaches.

What's your favorite sexy fruit?