I suspect Jim and Marilyn are not their real names, but they are the ones they gave me, so I won’t bother changing them.We met on an unusually warm spring afternoon in April, 1991. I was going through a breakup, and was feeling quite depressed. Walking through a municipal park, I thought it would be a good day to indulge my voyeuristic tendencies. Boy, was I right!Adjacent to the paved walkway, a woman was lying face down on a blanket. Her legs were spread slightly, and I wondered how far up her short skirt I could see if I perched myself in a bit down the slope. I eased myself down onto the grass on the opposite of the walkway. We were perhaps 30 feet apart. My back was propped kaçak iddaa against a tree, and I was facing directly toward her, pretending to enjoy the sunshine. She was bare-legged, and I wondered if she was wearing anything at all under that short skirt. Spreading her legs slightly further apart, I thought I could see bare skin all the way up, but then thought there was no way I would be so lucky. Surely I was imagining things,Someone walked and she closed her legs. They opened again after the intruder had passed. Somebody else came along, and she again closed up until they were gone. This process was repeated several times, and by then I was pretty sure she was playing to kaçak bahis an audience of one.My suspicions were confirmed when she rolled onto her side, looked back and me, and commented on what a nice day it is. I agreed, and then she asked if I would like to join her on the blanket. There was no need to ask a second time.The woman was thin, perhaps in her 40’s, with shoulder-length red hair. She wasn’t what I called a knockout, but was not unattractive. “My name’s Marilyn” she said. “I’ve just been laying here reading”, pushing one of her books toward me. They were Penthouse Forums.”I’m Stu”, I responded, emboldened as I casually leafed through the softcover book. “I’m curious. illegal bahis What are you wearing under your skirt?”Marilyn smiled. “Nothing””Can I get a better look?”Still smiling, she looked in both directions to see if the coast is clear, then pulled the hem of her skirt up far enough to reveal her pussy. The fine red hair was straight, not curly, and thin enough I could make out her slit. It was just a flash, only a couple of seconds, as the quickly covered up.”I wish I could do something about that” I gasped. Marilyn appeared just as keen as I. “My car’s up in the parking lot” she replied.Nothing more was said. I helped gather up her blanket as she picked up her Penthouse books, and we began walking toward the parking lot. Our path was taking us directly toward a man, who obviously had been watching us. As we approached, Marillyn said “That’s my husband. He’s OK with this.”