[Lucky_doug]

I commute to the CBD (Central Business District) three times a week, the other days I work from home. I take the train from the local station to which I walk to in order to gain much needed exercise. The journey only takes about twenty to twenty-five minutes, and if I am organised, I can get to the station by 7:30 am or 7:45. This allows me to get a seat on the train and not have to stand, furthermore at that time there are fewer commuters and so I don’t have to stand and smell another commuter’s armpit.

The other day I got to the station at about 7:35. It was a bright sunny day, blue skies and warm without being steamy. The sun hadn’t yet risen too high, so it was not stifling hot.

In the station there is a bench for commuters to sit on while waiting for the train. For some reason it was designed to be quite low. This has the added benefit that when women sit down their butt is lower than their knees. ‘So, what’ you might say. Well for those of us who enjoy seeing up a woman’s skirt this is an important feature.

You see, when most women sit down, especially the more modest ones, they tend to cross their legs. Of course, when they have to get up, they have to uncross their legs first before standing up. If a woman is not consciously trying to protect her dignity or modesty, she might just uncross her legs without thinking too much about it. This may allow someone who was standing before her to catch a glimpse up her skirt and hopefully see her intimate apparel, her panties, knickers, undies, thong or whatever.

On the day in question there was an attractive brunette sitting on the bench waiting for the train, reading her Kindle. So, her attention was elsewhere and not on anyone else who had aspirations of catching a candid flash of material up her dress.

She was wearing an attractive blue dress; her knees were exposed as she sat there. Nice figure, slimish, nice breasts, pretty face and wearing make up that was tastefully applied. She was married as she was sporting a wedding band.
This time of year, the sun was shining into the station straight towards the bench, illuminating everyone sitting there. It would be in the eyes of people sitting down, too.

I had already noticed her when I came into the station. I decided to make her my ‘mark.’ It was just a matter of waiting 5 minutes for the train to arrive and she, hopefully would do the rest.

I nonchalantly adopted a pose facing the tracks, away from her so as not to alert her to the suspicion I was waiting for her to uncross her legs. Soon enough the train could be heard from about a quarter of a mile away. Less than a minute to wait and I would be greeted with a beautiful vista, an attractive woman parting her legs momentarily to expose her pudendum, albeit covered in the delicate material of her panties.

Still standing and facing away from her, twenty seconds to go I glanced briefly to see if she was preparing to move, she was not. Ten seconds, still no movement. The train was almost in the station. Five seconds, she prepared to close her Kindle.

The train draws to a stop. People prepare to board. The doors open, people begin to move, but my beautiful angel has not. I am waiting too. Perhaps she is waiting for the next train.

No, as the stragglers board the train she uncrosses her legs languorously. Now, at the opportune moment I turn briefly to catch a beautiful vision. She is not wearing pantihose or stockings, so her knickers are unimpeded. Her white panties with a network panel of lace greet me. A stunning view. I commit it to memory for it lasts all of a second or two, no more. But the scene is made all the more spectacular with the sun shining directly up her dress illuminating her delicious charms.

That’s it, it is over, but I have a glorious memory, a picture in my mind to recall and recollect. To reminisce over during the winter months when such sightings are so rare.

I board the train, I stand behind her, I can smell her scent, flowery, subtle, sexy. But I know a secret, I have seen her panties, I have gate-crashed her party. She may well drop them later to pee, but wherever she works, I will know what she is wearing beneath. The delicacy and finesse of her sexy underwear. She thinks only she knows. I know, too.