I'd been in my engineering job for just a couple of weeks when my colleague Steve introduced me to the "stairway to heaven." I still remember the occasion. When I'd started Steve and I hit it off straight away. We were two guys in our early thirties and he'd soon gathered that I was every bit as interested as he was in the leggy short skirted girls from the admin offices that wandered through the open plan area where Steve, I and the other guys worked.
"Come with me," Steve said conspiratorially one morning when none of the other guys were around.
Steve took me to the bottom of the stairs that led down from the upper level stack of admin offices to our ground floor open plan area. That stair provided a short cut alternative for anyone on the upper floor offices wanting to avoid a long walk along a corridor to the main stair.
"Look" whispered Steve, indicating upwards with a flick of his head.
I looked up. Two of the office girls, Hannah and Lucy, pretty bits of eye candy in their early twenties were walking toward the top of the stair deep in chatter. They reached the top of the stair and started to descend. Then I saw it. Whichever architect had designed that stair was either a fool or a genius. It was summer and the girls were in mini-skirts with bare legs. As they descended, the open side of the stair gave us a perfect view up what little there was of their skirts all the way up their bare legs to a peep of their panties.
When the girls were nearly right above us Steve quickly pulled me right under the stair into a space hidden behind a row of big metal cabinets up against the foot of the stair.
"Don't make a move, and keep quiet," Steve hissed.
The treads of the stair were made of a metal mesh. Through the gaps in the mesh we were looking vertically straight up the girls' skirts. I saw Hannah was in simple white cotton panties with a pink flower pattern taut over her mound and cheeky bottom and Lucy was in a tiny purple thong with a thin gusset between her legs and nestling in the valley between her smooth round bum cheeks. Steve and I waited under the stair until the girls had reached the bottom and strolled away still deep in chatter before we came out.
"Don't tell any of the other guys," said Steve as we strolled to our desks. So the "stairway to heaven" as Steve called it remained our secret.
After that introduction the stairway to heaven provided us with plenty of erotic voyeur entertainment all through that summer. As soon as we saw any potentially interesting woman in a skirt heading for the stair we were quickly under it for a surreptitious panty peep. We were entertained by a full range of upskirts ranging through mature women's panties seen through tights, spectacular displays of stockings with bare thigh above stocking tops and sometimes even suspender straps, young girls with their bare legs and tiny panties or thongs barely covering their cunts. On rare but memorable occasions we even enjoyed spectacular panty-free displays of bare legs topped by naked bottoms and neat bushes of cunt hair or smooth shaven pussies.
It also gave me plenty of material to savour as I masturbated in the men's toilet. In those cubicles the girls in the porn magazine from Steve's office stash propped open on the tank were supplemented by fresh memories from our stair. In my wanking fantasies I relished Hannah's, Lucy's and other girls' legs and underwear. In my mind I peeled their panties off and enjoyed their naked bodies as I added yet more semen stains to those left by other guys before me on the cubicle wall.
One day we noticed one of the senior managers, Wendy, coming toward the bottom of our stairway. She was a mature sophisticated looking beauty in her later thirties with neat blonde hair down just below her ears. She was a few years older than me and there was something erotically exciting about her. The sensuous way she moved and even the click-clack of her high heels turned me on. Wendy had already treated us to several upskirt displays on our stair. She had long shapely legs that looked good in her nylons. She'd only ever treated us to upskirt glimpses of her panties, usually white or pastel, through tan or sheer black tights though on a few memorable occasions she'd worn open crotch tights with the tops of her bare thighs and her panties showing through the crotch opening.
On seeing Wendy approach, carefully making sure she didn't see us Steve and I rose and went quickly to our "hide" under the stair and watched her approach the foot of the stair. She was in a white blouse bulging over a very decent pair of boobs, a grey knee length rather tight business skirt with black nylons and slightly high heeled shoes. She seemed preoccupied with some documents she was carrying. Looking between the treads we watched as Wendy mounted the stair.
Just a few steps up, Wendy stopped. She absent mindedly crouched down on the stair, swinging her legs wide to get down. Then she reached down and fumbled with her shoe as if the buckle had come undone or the heel had come loose.
"Fucking hell!" I heard Steve gasp as Wendy treated us to the best full frontal upskirt view the stair had ever given us.
Between Wendy's wide spread legs, at eye level and not much more than a metre in front of us, we saw she wasn't in her usual tights but in stockings. Above her stocking tops was bare thigh, culminating in black panties. They were very brief and all but see through black lace showing the shadow of her cunt bush underneath with a few wisps of her brown pubic hair peeping out at the sides.
The thin black gusset of her panties had slipped into her vagina slit. As she squatted she looked carefully around to make sure no-one was looking, then she adjusted her panties, giving Steve and me a glimpse of her vagina ringed by brown pubic hair as she briefly pulled the gusset aside. A moment later she was back on her feet and walking up the stairs with our eyes locked on her swinging thighs and her black panties clinging to the curves of her bottom.
As we went back to our desks Steve was speechless except for a series of gasped "fucking hells!" All that afternoon I couldn't get that vision of Wendy's spread thighs, stocking tops, panties and that glimpse of her cunt out of my mind, and my penis wouldn't stay down. Eventually I had to go to the men's toilet and with my shaft straining hard in my frantically stroking hand and my mind full of Wendy's stocking tops, panties and cunt I relieved my lust with a hefty spurt of semen against the cubicle wall. After an upskirt display like that I didn't even need a porn magazine!
The metal cabinets next to the stair created a perfect voyeurs "hide" and created a dark space under that stair so women on the stair couldn't see us and didn't know we were looking up their skirts. Or so we thought.
One day I saw sexy young Tracey, a pretty little girl of nineteen straight out of school approaching the top of the stair wearing her customary blue denim microskirt. Steve and I reckoned she had the shortest skirt and best legs in the building and from our hide we'd seen she certainly wore some of the sexiest underwear. Steve wasn't around and I headed for our stair by myself anticipating a hot upskirt from Tracey.
But the instant I entered our hide what I saw shocked me so much I didn't even look up Tracey's skirt when she was directly above me. There carefully placed on an upright chair in our hide was a pair of women's panties. They were light grey smooth satin edged with embroidery and very brief. The satin bulged with its memory of its wearer's sex mound, and they had obviously been recently worn. Whoever had left them there obviously knew we'd been ogling her knickers from our hide.
