Worse, the slight draught which always blew down the tunnel no matter how still the air would be behind her, signalling her presence to the keen nose ...f any dog. She stared for long moments down the bright orange tunnel, straining every sense to detect footsteps at its far end. Her ears were of little use owing to the steady hiss and rumble of tyres over the concrete of the Motorway above her. She wished fervently to know the time; if it was after midnight, their neighbours would be in bed,. ‘Kate, listen,’ he said.‘Don’t you start, Roger Winfield,’ she replied firmly. ‘And take your hand off my knee before you make a ladder in my tights.’Only now did he realize that her legs weren’t bare, but that she was wearing very sheer pantyhose, as he usually called them. As inebriated and bad as he felt, the realization awoke the fetichist inside him. Kate saw it too and said: ‘What? Are you looking at my tights?’Roger felt himself blush. Normally, when they were getting along, they had fun. More

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