As soon as she sat down opposite me I noticed it peeking out from beneath the hem of her skirt. She reached into her bag that was perched on her lap and draw out her book, opening it to the page marked with what looked like a shopping list.

She tugged her skirt down towards her knees momentarily hiding the little pale line of damage that was sneaking down her thigh but as she settled in her seat it slowly emerged again. She must have felt me looking, watching, because when I glanced up at her face she was looking directly at me and then her eyes fell to her legs and she saw it too. Again she tugged at her skirt, a little look of annoyance playing across her face. I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or the state of her hosiery but she once she was satisfied with the position of her skirt she went back to her book and I went back to watching.

At the next stop people got off and on and my view was blocked by legs and bags but as the doors slid closed again most people were either seated or standing by the doors and she was still sitting opposite engrossed in her book. The little fault line snaked down her thigh and for a moment I couldn’t work out if her skirt was getting shorter or the line was getting longer but then she crossed her legs and the end of the ladder leap further down her leg and over her knees. She must have felt it because again she looked down, tugged on her skirt, realised it was futile and returned to her book with an irritated sigh.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of it, that little line of damage wandering down her leg, and up it one had to assume. Did it run all the way up to the gusset, meeting at that seam nestled between her thighs? That thought made my cock twitch. I couldn’t help imaging tracing it with my finger tips to find out the answer and if not a gusset then maybe it was stockings and eventually my fingers would be met with bare flesh. I pulled the scarf from round my neck and balled it into my lap in attempt to cover up the effect that little line was having in my body.

Eventually the train lurched to a halt at my stop and I emerged out onto the platform with my fellow commuters from this part of town. The walk back to our flat took me about 7 minutes. The moment I was threw the door I turned to her.

“Lift up your skirt”

What?” she said as she pulled of her coat and gloves

“You heard, lift up your skirt and show me”

I knelt down and started at the end that was now tracing it way down the front of her calf, following it with my finger all the way to it’s damp hot conclusion between her thighs where I dug my fingers into the small hole I found there and ripped the nylon fabric apart.

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