Fall has always been my favorite time of year. The smell of burning leaves and fireplaces blazing against bitter winds, the brilliant shades of fiery reds and oranges frosting the trees, all conspire to make me feel warm and cozy — and horny. I love to be outdoors when there’s just the slightest bite in the air. And it’s the best time to indulge in the most exhilirating form of sex: exhibitionism.

I’ve bounced along on hayrides with the prickly stalks pressing into my bare bottom, waiting for the one bump that will send my skirt flying and give my fellow riders a flash. I’ve gone out on Halloween dressed in a shiny vinyl raincoat and sunglasses, exposing myself to holiday revelers who believe they’ve seen a well-detailed bodysuit. (I think!) But my biggest turn-on yet was just last week, masturbating beneath the Crayola-colored maple trees of my local park.

I packed up a homemade lunch, my big red and black buffalo checked wool blanket and a copy of Variations, and ventured into the park. I settled a few yards off a footpath under a spreading maple tree whose upper branches pushed gradating shades of yellow, orange, red and deep burgundy leaves up into the crisp, blue autumn sky. I laid out my blanket and nibbled on my lunch, voraciously reading story after exciting story and becoming increasingly aroused. I was wearing a thick, cream-colored cable knit sweater with nothing underneath it and a long, heavy denim skirt without tights or panties.

People walked by every so often, some taking notice of my reading material and commenting to one another. With each new story I changed my position on the blanket to reveal more of my body. At first, I laid on my stomach and casually spread my legs, just slightly, kicking my feet into the air so that given the right angle a passerby would have a perfect view of my moistening pussy. Then I pulled my sweater up to reveal the fading tan of my smooth torso.

But this position would simply not do for masturbating, so I sat up and continued on to the next story crosslegged with my skirt hiked up above my knees. Now my cunt was catching wisps of the sharp breeze and was perfectly visible to anyone who cared to glance my way.

I reached up under my sweater with my left hand, still holding my Variations in my right, and caressed my breasts. My nipples froze to attention in response to my cold grasp and goosebumps rippled across my chest. I quickly pulled my hand out to lick a couple of my fingers and then shoved it back up inside my sweater and pinched my stiff nipples, the saliva making them slippery.

I was hoping someone would walk by and wonder what I was doing with my hand up my own shirt! And as I closed my eyes to revel in the chilly, tweaking sensation, I heard voices coming up the footpath. I continued to roll my nipple between my fingers, my mouth open slightly, as the voices passed by. What a rush! I almost came just envisioning their expressions as they watched me in my state of semi-ecstasy, caressing my own tits.

The juices from my cunt were seeping into the denim of my skirt and I wanted so badly to warm my hands up in my own slippery wetness! But I also wanted to wait, read through another story, and build myself up to a higher level of arousal… to wait, also, for more of an audience.

As I was finishing up a tantalizing piece about a couple fucking on a cold, windy beach, a collegiate-looking man plopped himself down against a tree about thirty feet to my left and opened up a heavy hardback book. Well, we’ll just see how serious he is about his studies, I thought, as I shrugged my sweater higher up, exposing my belly and my playful hand. He looked up for just a moment and, catching my eye, smiled a shy hello before returning his gaze to his textbook. Couldn’t he tell what I was doing? Didn’t he see what I was reading?

It didn’t matter. My pussy was aching to be rubbed and I had waited long enough. My audience was so close as to be in what one could consider “the expensive seats,” so I decided now was the time. If he were to look up from his book, he’d really learn something! I set down my magazine and brought both hands to my mouth, coating my fingers with a slick sheen of saliva. My left hand slithered silently back up my sweater, pushing it up just a few more inches to reveal the underside of my heavy tits. I massaged each one and pinched the nipples, harder than before. Then, with my right hand, I traced the tiny trail of blonde hair down my belly to my curly patch of pubic hair and raked through the tendrils, moving closer and closer to my moist, impatient cunt.

I slid one finger down along my slick folds and slipped it right into my swollen slit. I let out a soft groan and began to work first one finger, then two, and then three slowly in and out of my cunt. I pushed them up inside me, as far as they would go, and then drew them back out, twisting and feeling all the delicious little textures of my sex . . . back out to rub across my stiff little clit. My hips moved slightly forward on the blanket to meet every plunge of my fingers.

I continued this steady, langorous motion until every nerve in my body was numb except for the tiny, hooded protrusion. Then I concentrated solely on it, tweaking and flicking it until I knew I was only moments from coming. The last few seconds, my eyes shut tight, I rubbed wildly at my clitoris until the waves rushed over me again, and again, and I jammed my fingers deep into my pussy to feel the powerful contractions of my orgasm.

I rocked my hips slowly, enjoying

the ebbing contractions, my fingers now completely drenched with my juices. I continued to slowly massage my breasts and rub my sore, sensitive nipples. I breathed deeply, inhaling the lovely autumn smells and savoring the afterglow of my self-satisfaction. Then I heard a deep voice ask, “May I join you?” Blinking my eyes open and readjusting to the bright fall day, I saw the young student standing over me, his erection in his hand.

There was no need for me to even answer. In seconds he was in me, pumping away, and I was staring up into the multicolored branches of the maple tree, my bare legs wrapped tightly around his waist. We rolled around on my big wool blanket, taking turns being on top, and whenever we heard voices it only made us fuck more furiously. It was obvious that my studious stranger enjoyed being watched just as much as I did!