It Started Innocently Enough

You see, he's taller then me. Quite a bit taller. I know that doesn't make much difference if we're lying down. In fact, it's nice. I get to tuck my head down under his chin, and stay warm, and I can avoid his cold feet altogether.

And it's not like he's without technique, or equipment. And he's got abs as hard as his ribs, and a face like an angel. Oh, and gentle. Strength with control. Perfect, yes?

But I have an obsession. It's nothing really kinky, or at least it wasn't. Before. You see, I've had a few boyfriends. Not a lot, but a few. I've done most of the positions and stuff, but I really, really like to fuck vertically. You know, standing. Leaning against a wall, or a window, or whatever. Up against a car, or on the climbing frame in a playground (that's another story).

My last boyfriend was a master. Truly. We were almost the same height, and with a little bending and prodding, we could do it freestanding, in the middle of the room. There's something about the way he could position himself, and the way I could wriggle that is beyond description. And to orgasm, standing, naked, in the middle of the room, well that's what I want. And a girl has to get what she wants. It's a new millennium, after all.

The only problem was, he was also a liar, a cheat, and a bastard. It got to the point where all I wanted was his cock, and as I never knew where else it had been, I couldn't enjoy it properly. After all, if he was just going to be a stand up vibrator, I'd make do with a battery one. Or my right hand. I needed more than something to hang my twat on. So I threw him out. Gave him the fuck of his life, took his key off him, and handed him his suitcase, already packed, and told him to take his now drooping best part, stick it back in his pants, and go and find a less picky girlfriend. Or a sheep, for all I cared.

Did I miss him? Of course I did, late at night, or early on a cold morning, or any time there was a thunderstorm. He had a special thing with lightening strikes. I can still come from listening to thunder.

I suppose you think all I think about is sex? No, I have to work, and I like other nice things too. Anyway, I got my life back together, bought a couple of new batteries, and tried to forget the bastard. Eventually, he faded in my mind to the point where I discovered Craig.

He'd been around the whole time, but I'd been so busy being pleasured by the bastard that I hadn't noticed. He worked with me. Yeah, I know you're not supposed to do that, but I plead desperation. And once we got together, I couldn't let him go.

He is perfect. No, Perfect. That's better. With a capital 'P'.

He makes love. No fucking for him. He never even says fuck. He sometimes says 'cunt', but only when it's sexy, never when it's gross. I don't know how he knows when the right time is, but he never gets it wrong. I've had more, better, longer, more intense orgasms with him that ever before in my life. Ever. He takes me places I want to go, gives me things I want to have, feeds me things I want to eat. He's caring, intelligent, gentle, clean, warm, loving and just plain nice. I love him to bits, and I never want to lose him. But...

He's too tall. There isn't any way to stand on the sheepskin rug, curl my toes into the wool, and come while he spurts warm gold inside me. So I tried some ways around the problem. I stood on a box, and promptly fell off. Funny, but not sexy. I had him hold me off the ground, and locked my ankles behind his tight butt. That worked, and it was nice, but there was no way to get the control I had standing up. I even got him to kneel, and I lowered myself on him, but that wasn't the best either.

Then one day we both got home to the apartment, and the lifts weren't working. My apartment is on the third floor, so it wasn't too far to walk. We walked around the back way, and started the walk up. I was walking in front, and Craig was trailing a few steps behind, carrying a few groceries for me in his backpack. We got up past the first landing, and turned the corner.

"Hold up Jen. Can you do that again?"

"Eh? Do what?"

"The way you wiggled around that landing."

"Wiggled? I don't wiggle."

"You do too. Your butt kind of wiggles. It's cute. Sexy even."

"Yeah? Well, I'll do my best on the next landing then."

"Listen Jen, are you in the mood?"

"Mood?"

"You know......"

"Oh. Now that you mention it. Yes. What are you suggesting?"

"Well, if you just stay there..."

I was standing halfway up the flight of stairs by this time, and he walked up close behind me, and started kissing the side of my neck.

"You know Jen, standing like this, we're about the same height."

Suddenly a light flashed in my head, and a tingle erupted from my thighs. "You can't be serious Craig", I said, hoping that he was.

"I am. You know I am." He reached down and gently lifted the back of my skirt, looking around in case anyone was watching, pulled my panties down off my butt, and then pulled them down in front. My skirt was just long enough that no one would has been able to tell from in front of me. I was wet and ready for anything by this time, and just stood there waiting.

Taking his hands from my waist, he quickly unzipped his fly. I couldn't see what was happening, as I was looking up the stairs, scared that we might get caught. Scared, but not enough to stop him.

Then I could feel his erection pressing gently between my legs, and I spread my knees as best I could, and bent forward slightly. He reached around my legs and guided it into me, and I relaxed a little, and straightened up, hot and wet, and sure that we would get caught.

The height was perfect. As was the angle, the feeling, and the words he whispered to me.

Suddenly another idea came to me, and I started to climb up to the next step. He got the idea straight away, and followed me. You have no idea how all of this felt. My back and Craig's chest, rubbing against one another, my vagina moving all around his cock, rubbing each side alternately, and tickling the end ever so slightly.

We never even made it to the next landing. Craig grunted and sprayed my most private parts with his hot juice, while he kissed my ears, and fondled my nipples. I couldn't stand it any longer, and shuddered to any orgasm on the spot. If I hadn't been hanging on his penis, I'd have fallen over then. We hurriedly disengaged, and raced up to my apartment to collapse and discuss it all.

And that's it. Since then, it has become a ritual. If I wear a skirt to work, and I do most days, especially now, we never take the lift when we get home. I usually remove my panties before we leave the office, and we run for the stairs as soon as we get home. By the time we reach the first landing, Craig is hard, and I'm soaked, and more than ready. We have never managed to reach the second landing without both coming, and sometimes I get so excited at work thinking about it that I need to take care of myself in the ladies just to survive the day.

One more thing. Last week, we were caught for the first time. Earlier, if anyone saw us on the stairs, we just pretended we were cuddling. It's hard to tell if I wear the right kind of skirts. But this time, a young guy was walking down the stairs, and Craig was so close to orgasm that he couldn't manage to stop, and I didn't want him to. We both came even faster than usual, and as the guy passed, we just smiled at him. He smiled back, and I could see the bulge in his pants. I was so excited to know that I'd caused it that I dragged Craig into the apartment, and raped him on the spot. And you know what? He's caught us twice since. I'm sure he waits there for us on purpose.

So now it's perfect. I've got the gentlest, most loving man in the world, and vertical fucking, where we get caught.

Damn, now I'm horny all over again.