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Walking home from a night at the club, I feel his hand at the crook of my back, his fingers playing with the waistband of my skirt. I know he's letting me know that I'm not going home alone tonight, that there is something more to be had with this magical evening. I reach back, patting his cock through his pants, letting him know that I know where his thoughts lie; my actions in such a public place showing him that two can play this game.

We get back to my place, a high rise in the grittier area of town; gritty enough that there isn't an elevator to my 6th floor apartment. As we start taking the stairs, I swing my hips, knowing full well that my skirt rises slightly with every step I take, my boy's eyes never leaving the tops of my stockings.

Somewhere between the second and sixth floors, I feel his hands on my waist, stopping me from continuing my climb. He gently pushes me against the wall, his hands guiding mine to his fly, unzipping it. I know exactly what he wants me to do, and luckily for him, I have the same exact plans in mind. I work my hand through the opening in his boxers and pull out his cock, stroking it in my hand as his lips meet mine. His body is now pinning me against the wall, my back against the cool concrete, my hand rhythmically stroking his cock. I stiffen the spine, making it hard and erect and ready to play, mentally blessing whoever invented these pack to play devices for transguys like my boyfriend.

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He's had enough of this teasing, I can tell, and I sink to my knees. My mouth envelops his cock, my head bobbing back and forth as his hands wrap themselves into my hair. God, I love feeling so close to him as I suck his cock, knowing that this is my man, and he never had let anyone else do this for him. I run my tongue under the bottom of it, and reach my hands to his butt, pulling him closer into me, feeling the straps of the harness under my fingers.

Pulling me up, he bends me over the railing, lifting up my skirt as he runs his fingers over the stops of my stockings. What is it about men and stockings? I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper and smile as I know he's about to take me right here, in the stairwell of my apartment building. He pauses to roll the condom onto his cock, and then runs it up and down the outside of my underwear. Pushing my panties aside (he never bothers to take them off when we're having a quickie), he slooooowly enters me. I'm dripping as he takes me right there, in the stairwell, working his cock in and out of me, my moans muffled as I turn around and he kisses me so hard.

God, I love him so much.

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