Paradise for a Sinner by Lynn Shurr

small crease between her eyes and rubbed it away. “You need a distraction. Want to see my tattoos?”
    No, she did not. He probably had a Sinners devil on one hind cheek and his college mascot on the other. She wanted him to plunge into her and make her stop thinking. Winnie delved her hand into his jeans and found no briefs underneath. He’d come prepared, too. She pulled off his black Sinners T-shirt and attacked the zipper of his jeans, parting easily from the strain of his erection against the fabric. She pushed the jeans down. Oh my god! Now she was distracted, completely distracted, and not only by the length and breadth of what he offered.
    From an inch above the waist to tops of the knees, Adam’s tattoos covered him thickly like another piece of cloth. Patterns accented by heavy dark patches ran around his hips and thighs, but all the lines converged on his erect penis. She groped for the flashlight and turned the beam on his body as he rose to step out of his pants. The length of his erection and even his scrotum possessed designs. Patterns of leaves, swirls like waves and water, and small animal figures emerged against the dark background. As he turned his back, modeling, she swore she saw a chain of oblong figures that resembled tiny footballs. “Incredible,” she breathed.
    He gave her full frontal nudity again. “That’s good, right?”
    “Yes, very distracting. That had to be incredibly painful.” She gestured to the main attraction.
    “Believe it or not, the area around the navel hurt more.” He lay down beside her, arms in back of his head. “Go on, you can touch it. The color won’t come off.”
    She traced the designs along his hips and back to his penis over and over. It gave a small nod each time she did. “But why, when no one sees this?”
    “A very painful rite of manhood. Sammy Tau and the rest of the guys I lived with in Pago, all except the one headed for the ministry, we went together to get our tats before leaving for mainland colleges. Took a month to complete them in the traditional way. The ink is put in this comb-like device and pounded under the skin with a mallet.”
    “Dear God!” Winnie’s hand moved protectively over his scrotum.
    “They can do more delicate work, too, but for the dark areas, that is the way to get the best effect. Our group vowed we would never forget our roots in Samoa. I let my hair grow out for the same reason. Of course, Sammy never left the islands.”
    Winnie noticed a slight droop in his erection. Feeling daring and free of inhibitions for the first time in her life, she stoked his shaft and knelt to place her lips on its bulbous head. She took him in and swirled her tongue around its tip just as he had done with her nipples. They tightened again at the thought. The throb of him against her palate was answered by a thrum between her legs.
    “Winnie.” Adam tugged gently at her shoulders. “Are you ready—because I sure am.”
    “More than.”
    His large hands cinched around her waist, raised her up, and settled her right where he wanted her to be. His hips pumped from below, and repressed Winnie Green threw back her head and let the breeze in the palms fan the soft waves of her hair out behind her. Her knees sank into the sand beneath the blanket as she pushed against him. She absorbed the moonlight shining on his bronzed skin and the song the fronds made above her. Gradually, she allowed her eyes to close as that feeling low in her body built and built and built. Adam at the last moment flipped her over into the sand and dominated her with the last few strokes that brought them both to fruition. Slowly he withdrew, keeping his weight off her delicate figure and drawing her to his side in an embrace beneath one arm.
    “See, love beneath the palms is the best—as long as we don’t get hit by coconuts.” He gently rubbed the sand from her shoulders and hips.
    She nodded, sifting some of the granules in her hair onto his chest. “We