This one happened completely by chance. I’d just parked and was on my way to lunch. When I turned a corner and spotted a metal staircase, sitting there, totally unguarded, was a girl who looked about twenty, a student backpack beside her, eyes glued to her phone.
She wore a black hoodie and a gray skirt that came just past her knees. Because she was sitting on the steps, the hem d****d right over them. She was so absorbed in her screen that her knees stayed apart, feet splayed in an inverted V.
How could someone with zero resistance to upskirts not look? My gaze locked in automatically, catching that slim strip of white fabric nestled between the tops of her thighs—pure, innocent, perfectly suited to her age. I slowed my pace; those few feet probably took me ten full seconds, eyes fixed on the hidden view. Good thing I was wearing loose pants, or the strain would’ve been painful.
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