Autumn is sweeping in with harsh winds and cold rain, turning the explosion of fiery leaves that I should be able to kick my way through like a child (if no one is watching) to a soggy sludge which makes the pavements slippery. People all around me are complaining about the weather, or excitedly counting down the days to Christmas. I don’t understand why anyone would want to make these next few months go by so quickly – I try to savour every pumpkin-spiced second of them.
These are the reasons I love autumn.
An excuse to buy books
I use the colder days as an excuse to spend more time in bookshops or the library, or curled up on a sofa with a book. Over the summer I spend as much time outside as possible, and books often get pushed aside in favour of beaches and campfires and hiking and early morning runs. But as autumn creeps in, I can ditch my walking boots and surround myself with books and blankets. I find time to set aside for books that I didn’t over the summer, and discovering the joy of reading again is an annual autumn pleasure.
Being in control
Of course, autumn also means damp drizzle, depressing darkness, and a lethargic desire to stay in bed rather than get up and take on the world. The cold weather doesn’t put me off the season though. To me, autumn means change, and it means new friends and new books. I find the dark evenings oddly invigorating, and walking briskly along under orange streetlights makes me feel excited and powerful.
It’s not close enough to exams that I’m worrying yet, and by October I have settled back into the routine of life at university. This means is that autumn is often the time I feel organised enough to balance everything: I’m in control, quickly clearing my inbox of even the scariest emails, meaning that I can reach for my vibrator for a longer session of fun that evening.
I like autumn because it means I can wear the clothes I love most easily. I feel safest in knitted jumpers and jeans, snug fleeces in bright colours, woolly tights and skirts, boots and big snuggly scarfs. I like layers, and the autumn weather means that my chosen armour for facing the world in is the most practical solution.
But my autumn outfits mean other things as well. You see that big snuggly scarf? Autumn means that I can carefully arrange that over my lap on a very quiet train, and slip my hand past the waistband of my skirt for a quick wank, with the added excitement of doing something in public adding wetness of my busy fingers.
A reason to move closer
Autumn means that my shiver of cold is really, so I have a reason to get the boy whose flat you’re in to sit down and wrap his arms around me on the made-up-with-quilt sofa bed that we both know I won’t end up sleeping in; we’ll end up a tangle of limbs in his sheets in a few hours.
It means that when I wake up in the middle of the night and find that you have stolen all the duvet, I can wriggle closer to you and try reclaiming my share. This quickly becomes a playful battle for control of the snuggly warmth, which, in turn, sometimes evolves into sleepy, middle-of-the-night sex. I want the struggle for the duvet to allow you to use your physical strength against me, and although I will squirm in protest underneath you this is what I want, I want your weight on top of me. I want you to scrape your teeth down my neck in biting kisses that make me shiver. I want you to pin me down, as I lose a battle I never intended to win.
Maybe you don’t fuck me, just collapse on top of me, squishing me with your weight, and pull the duvet back on top of you, sleeping – or pretending to sleep – with your breath fluttering on my neck. Making sleep impossible for me. Maybe you’ll use your strength to flawlessly position us so your cock is pressed against the crack of my arse, and you’ll whisper in my ear that I’ve woken up your cock so you’re going to pull my shorts down and hump against me until you shoot spunk against my arse. God, how I want you to do that, and then yank my shorts up and leave me with your come drying on my arse and my clit throbbing. You yawn in satisfaction, but ignore my sleepy noises of arousal and turn back over.
At least I’ve got my share of the duvet back.
What was I talking about?
Oh, yes, why I love autumn. The bright colours against stark skies. The crunchy leaves beneath my I-got-this-shit boots. The smile at a pretty girl over a hot chocolate and spiced pumpkin latte, respectively, while first date nerves churn in my stomach. The balance and control. The excuses to snuggle up together.
So please, use the scarf around my neck to pull me closer for a kiss. Let’s celebrate the joys of autumn.
Image sourced through Pixabay.
Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a queer, trans, disabled sex writer with vaginismus. He’s a slut and a sex nerd who writes about his adventures in trying to fuck without fucking up. Quinn can usually be found wearing stomp-on-the-patriarchy boots while falling in love every time he fucks.