IX. Jellys Shoes

The photographic stuff was finally fixed and tested, and Robin opened the Jellys' e-mail, pasted '51 centimetres' into a decoding website, and got the result: 20.0787402 inches. His mobile rung. Breta informed him that the first stage of operation 'The Highest Madness' went smoothly. 'You can come in now,' she said.

As he went up the stairs, his heart was pounding: he was just about to see something completely out of this world: an eight feet tall girl on nearly two feet high platform. Was he the first man ever to see a real life 9'8" woman? According to his research, he was indeed. He thought it's good he's wearing jeans instead of shorts or trousers made of soft fabric, and knocked the door.

Nothing unusual. She was sitting on the bed with her legs towards the window, so he could see only the sharp knees above the mattress and her beautiful face wearing a smile. Now the smile was enigmatic and intriguing.

'Well, very well: you didn't need any assistance including paramedical! How do you feel now?'

'Don't know yet: I was sitting down while putting them on.'

'Time to stand up then?'

'Okay, but close your eyes please,' she was still smiling. 'I don't want to you to see me falling down. It wouldn't be a pleasant sight.'

He obeyed, and then heard bed's squeak, then gasp and a second of silence, then two steps in his direction, then Breta's voice from above. 'Stage two completed, sir. You can open your eyes.'

He thought, he was prepared for the act, but he was wrong. He only realized that when she stepped out from behind the bed and came closer to him. For the first instance, all he could see were her knees. They reason for that was simple: they were still the same - nice and sharp, but those knees of hers were now just a little bit below his eyelevel. Actually, they were as high as his shoulders. If not higher.

This was way beyond his expectations. And preparations, too. After a while, when he regained an ability to think, his first thought was that any further experiments would be no more than a waste of time. He already knew, he was turned on to the limits, like never before. He couldn't be excited more. Once again, he thanked himself for wearing jeans. This time however, he wasn't sure denim was strong enough to hide his huge erection.

He decided not to share his finding with Breta. Science is science, let the research keep its pace.

Maybe all these thoughts were provoked by his wish to stretch the moment, maybe not, but he understood that he must have said something - and couldn't open his mouth. Or rather couldn't shut it as his jaw just hanged and he didn't know how to get it back.

Slowly, very slowly his look started to move up. Breta's legs were again in that pink stockings that ended just above the middle of her thighs. I.e. at the level of his forehead. Like many times before - since he has met her - he couldn't believe his eyes. Couple of inches higher was the lower edge of one of Breta's shortest miniskirts, but this time it couldn't hide her knickers of his view. It was truly incredible to look UP at a girl's pussy standing next to her. And UP at the lower edge of her skirt.

He tried to look further up - no use: her red skirt obstructed the view. He took a step back, she took a step forward.

'Like what you see?' her voice reached him like from heaven. She must have been fond of the game: her smile was easily heard.

'I... I think so, yes. You?'

'I... I think so, yes,' echoed she. 'It's unusual... A little bizarre, you know... Now I see how Alice must have felt in the Rabbit's hole. The ceiling is too close...'

Of course it was. When Robin bought a new flat, he put a special attention on the feature that considered non-important before: how high the ceiling was. In this pad, it was 10 feet high, enough for any normal person. Or even tall. Or even very tall. But not enough for Breta on those platforms. Standing 9'8" now, she would need to raise her hand only a bit to touch the ceiling that would be out of his reach, even if he'd climb on a dinner table.

He took another step back and, with his neck craned up, managed finally to see her breasts. They were unbelievably high, but even higher was soaring her face that he still couldn't see - this time because of that lovely mile-high bosom.

'Hello love, could you look down please?' he decided to be a good boy hoping to be awarded.

'Why?' her head nevertheless showed up. And up it was: from his perspective, it seemed to be touching ten feet ceiling. It was like a sun came out of a cloud.

'Oh my, you're sooo small!' she giggled, but soon returned to business. 'Does our experiment require you to see my face? I thought, it was enough for you to observe my legs and the rest of the body - at least, those parts of it that you can see - and to make conclusions afterwards, wasn't it?'

'Well, not quite like this.' Honestly, he had not a clue what the experiment required, even less he knew what to do now. 'I think your face plays an important role in our research too...'

'Does it? You're establishing an influence of a women's height on men's attraction towards them, aren't you? And the face doesn't really matter, I suppose.'

'Okay, maybe you right, but I just love to see your face. And never before did I see it on angle like this!'

'Fair enough,' Breta laughed again. 'I love your face too but, must confess, it's hardly seen from up here.'

'What do you see then?'

'Well... Have you ever seen a five years old child from the high of your height? I think it's pretty close to what I see now.' Her head gone again from his view. Then came back. 'You know, it's wrong'.

'What's wrong?'

'Well, I guess, an average five years old should stand 2 feet 3 or something like this. And then he would come up to your hips, wouldn't he?' She paused, then looked down at him and put her hand on his head. 'While you don't even come up to my crotch - you really don't, my little love! - and therefore it's rather like you would look down on two or three years old kid! Can you imagine this?'

He tried - and failed. Could it be this way? Could a fully-grown man, not a giant of course, but still a grown man in his thirties, a well-respected member of the society, a successful journalist look like two years old boy next to his much younger girlfriend? Wasn't it weird, and was it for real?

'No, I can't', he finally replied. 'Let's have a look at a mirror.'

They moved to the wardrobe with sliding doors covered by mirrors on theirs outer side. The combined area of the glass was huge and very wide - wall to wall, but obviously not high enough. Robin saw himself with this familiar silly look on his face standing next to two endlessly long poles covered in red by three quarters of their length. That was it. The highest point he could observe in the mirror was her belly button: the wardrobe was nearly seven feet high. Still the site was breathtakingly amusing. He touched one of the poles, but quickly withdrew his hand, being afraid of uncontrolled explosion in his pants.

'I can't see anything except my legs,' said Breta disappointedly. 'And you beside them. It's not quite what I expected. Shall we go downstairs?'

He agreed: time to mind business.

As they went to the stairs, Robin passed Breta to walk through bedroom's door first. It was purely instinctive gesture of politeness, but she stopped, smiled down and him and said, 'Wanna see me bending, my little gentleman? Here we go!'

All doorframes in the flat were foot and a half taller than standard ones: he had taken care of that in advance. Now however even this superhigh door was short. To walk through it, Breta was forced to bend down slightly in three points simultaneously: knees, waist and neck.

It was a site any tall women lover would die to see; from what he'd read on the topic, Robin knew that walking through a door was one of the most desirable acts for them. Another one was to stand on something relatively high and still be able to look up into woman eyes. He was wondering, why was that? He didn't know the answer, but was keen to find it. In a matter of fact, that was the prime (if not only) reason for the whole experiment.

His philosophical thoughts were interrupted by Breta who already reached the bottom of the stairway. 'Stop!' she commanded. He stopped. 'What?'

'I just recalled our conversation that first night. Remember, when you assumed there were two steps between us, but was wrong. I want to see how many steps should separate us now just to make us about the same height.'

This mean, he thought, she's either interesting in the research too, or just have fun not less than myself. He couldn't decide what idea he liked more, and just nodded to her okay. She was standing now on the floor beside the stairs, and he slowly took step down after step until their eyes nearly levelled. Again, he willingly delayed the pleasure and didn't look down, preferring the number of steps to be unknown for a while.

'Don't you fancy presenting me a hug at last?' Breta's head was just an inch lower than his, and he embraced her and kissed her lips passionately.

'Like to be taller than me?' her eyes were shining as she returned the kiss.

'I do, but only this way!' he couldn't hide his excitement anymore. 'You know, it felt so unreal yet so unbelievably sexy to look up at your knickers!'

'Did it? Afraid, I'll never be able to get an experience like that. Must confess though, I would like to. Just to share your feelings... To understand them...'

'Breta, sweetie, you'll never understand them. I hope, I will one day.'

'If you do, you'll get a cathedra in Oxford, remember?' She laughed and kissed him again. 'I have no doubt, you can do it: you're a clever man!'

'Not clever enough to guess how many steps higher I'm standing now.'

'What's the problem? Just have a look down.'

'I cannot. I'm afraid of heights, you know.'

'In that case you must have been scared of me!' she giggled. 'You don't have a chance to find a height any higher, do you? So don't play fool and start to count. I hope you're as good in arithmetic as you are in journalism and can cope with numbers higher than five.'

'As long as it not more than ten, I'll manage somehow!' and he lowered his head. One, two and three he accepted relatively easy. Four didn't cause big surprise either. Two feet eight inches difference, he thought, that's something I already got used to. Five was more difficult to realize. Six made him a little sick: the difference increased to 48 inches. Exactly four feet. At seven, he decided that got confused and began from scratch. No, no error. Seven steps up the stairs - and there he was - three or four inches taller than his gorgeous girlfriend. Seven steps down - and again all he could see without tilting his neck were her knees. He hugged them, pulled them together - not without Breta's help, of course, - leaned to them and kissed them. He loved them, he was full of desire, and he would give anything to stand this way forever, to feel this unexplainable tenderness and sexual excitement of extreme extent. This was unlike anything he'd experienced in his life. Ever. And this was wonderful sensation.

Her hand touched his hair, stroked it. 'Back to business?'

'Yeah, I think, it's the time.' Reluctantly, he pulled out. 'Camera is ready.'

It wasn't easy for Breta to walk to the sitting room on those platforms, but he gave her his helping hand (up, always up).

'Waiting for your command, sir!' reported Breta. 'I would assume, if I may, the operation 'Highest Madness' came into its final stage.'

'Seems like that.' He went to the camera and leaned to the viewfinder. 'You're not fit into the frame, sweet. Take couple steps back please.'

Now the picture was perfect. He set 10 seconds delay, approached her, and stood by with his hand on her left thigh at the level of his head. Camera clicked.

'Couple more - just in case, all right?' he came back to the tripod.

'Let's make them different,' suggested Breta. 'Don't you want to stand between my legs? I suppose, that's enough room for you down there. And you'll get a unique picture: yourself standing up beneath a wonan's pussy. I bet, it would be a new experience for you'.

'Only for me? Why don't you mention yourself? Have you ever stood with a man between you thighs?'

'You won't believe me if I tell you how many bizarre cases I lived through with a shorter men!' she laughed, but didn't say more. 'Are you coming?'

'Pretty close to,' this time he smiled. 'Having been for a while now.'

She moved her legs apart a little, and he walked into the arch he could never imagine he'd be in. He decided to give his hands a rest and just embraced her knees. No need to rush, he thought, we've got a whole night ahead. The shot was done, but he still stood there, admiring his goddess and worshiping her from beneath her crotch. He craned his neck and saw her knickers and a tiny wet spot on it. Was it what he thought it was?

'Do you want me?' he asked.

'Yeah baby, yeah!' she wasn't laughing. 'I did this before with a stranger... On his request... But, despite his hair actually touched me down there, I didn't want him. And now, just feeling you're looking at me, I'm horny. How would you prefer to be raped? Should I get rid of the boots beforehand?'

'I'd like you'd stay as you are. And I even got an idea. Do you think these lovely legs of yours are able to keep some extra weight?'

'If you mean yourself, easily. What's the idea?'

He didn't answer. Instead, he rose on his tiptoes, put his hands on her hips, embraced her lower legs with his legs, and pulled himself up. Just like a monkey between two trees, he thought. She was standing still, wondering what's coming next.

'Are you gonna climb all the way up to me? It'll take ages due to the distance!'

He didn't answer again - he was too busy. Pulling himself a little higher, relocating his legs, he finally reached the destination. His nose managed to move the string of her knickers aside, and his tongue found the target.

A moan from above and a shake of her body returned him to the reality. And what a reality it was - he was eating a girl's pussy being suspended between the girl's legs. Could it be for real? Did it really matter?..