A taste of pleasure

I don’t eat fruit often. My current diet leans toward protein and fat, so fruit has become more of a treat—something I allow myself when I want a little indulgence. And lately, when that moment comes, I choose papaya.

There’s something about its softness, its sweetness, the way it seems to hold the sun inside its skin. I’d bought two a few days earlier, left them to ripen on the kitchen counter, and on this particular morning, one of them was calling me.

The light from the sun was golden, spilling through the windows in that quiet, gentle way it does when the day is just beginning. I had music playing softly in the background as I moved slowly through my morning, I was up early and I had some time. When I picked up the papaya, it felt warm and heavy in my hand—ready. I cut it in half with a knife, and for the first time, really noticed its shape- it looked like something familiar, something sacred…

I paused, smiling, there was something intimate about that moment... I took a small spoon and carefully scooped out the seeds, noticing how they clung to the soft orange flesh, and how wet and glistening the centre was. My body stirred a little, I felt more present than I had in days.

I cut it into pieces, placed them on a small plate, and I sat down. I wanted to feel this. The way I touched the fruit was different—it wasn’t just food anymore, it was sensual, alive, inviting. I ran my fingers along the outer skin, then across the smooth, soft glistening inside. Its colour—somewhere between orange and pink—was rich and pulsing with life.

I took the first bite, slowly sinking my teeth into the soft flesh. It was warm, creamy, and sweet in a way that felt almost erotic. I didn’t rush, I chewed gently, letting the flavour spread across my tongue. I noticed the texture, the sweet aroma, the way it filled my mouth with something more than just taste—it was pleasure.

A quiet, deep, sensual pleasure. With every bite, I felt more connected to something primal inside me. I realised how often I eat in a way that is polite, careful, controlled, rushed—mouth closed, no sounds, not chewing enough.. But this… this felt like reclaiming something. My hunger, my senses, my right to enjoy.

We often look for pleasure in the big moments—touch, intimacy, making love. But sometimes, the sensual lives in the everyday. In the way fruit touches your lips. In slowness, in letting your mouth open just a little more. In chewing with your eyes closed.

In being just a little more aware of our senses.

And sometimes reconnecting to your sensuality begins in the most ordinary moments, like breakfast.

Love,

Rosie x