Packing Away the Legs of Summer

I always dread the coming of September – closing my eyes to the spider’s webs that I perceive to be there in late August.

But today I wake to the misty morning and throw open my window, droplets of dew cling to silken threads, casting an eerie caul over the day and I’m suddenly ravenous for it.

My chest lifts as I inhale and feel the excitement of performing the witchy rites of autumn, pressing elderberries and crab apples through a sieve to make spicy rich potions.

My legs, so carefree and bare over the summer months are now to be clad in nylon and black leather boots.

Memories of saucy dark winter nights flood back as I ruche my stocking into a bunch at the toe and poke my pointed foot inside, sliding the silky sheer fabric up over my skin. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, stocking tops squeezing the flesh of my thighs causing them to pillow into my white cotton knickers. I pull up my woollen dress to get a better look and the fervour of this abundant laden time grips me.

The fruits and berries on the trees outside assault my senses through the open window and the craw of crows ricochet through the mist.

I fall back onto my bed, legs apart, watching in the mirror as I pull my knickers to the side and slip my fingers into the soft yielding folds of my hungry cunt.

It is fast, just as yesterday was summer, today is autumn, and I give myself over to the changing of the seasons. Cocooned in the smells and sounds of earth magic, I come hard on my hands in a flurry of rich dark spells…