The Mirror Story Pt. 01

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A simple story of lust and chemistry (female forward).
2.8k words
4.56
2.3k
3

Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 10/06/2023
Created 09/23/2023
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Her heart was beating madly, just like the butterfly wings in her stomach. Even his breath carried his obvious lust. His gaze had communicated the same all night. It wasn't that he openly gave her "let's fuck-" eyes, rather, it was the way he drank her in when he did permit his eyes to land on her. He wanted to be respectful, but his desire to admire her was insatiable. And now? Well, there was no pretense. He had her permission. He drank her in, every last inch and many times over. He still couldn't get enough. She almost felt compelled to stop him, not expecting that her whispered "yes" would entail such scrutiny, but even his heavy gaze felt good against her skin. As they stood in front of a standing mirror in the corner of his bedroom, his breath added to the erotic sensations she felt along her neck, shoulders, and collarbone.

Somehow his slowly added kisses felt completely natural and totally unexpected at the same time. She bit back a sound not unlike a moan- she was embarrassed to admit with her ready reaction how even his light touch felt glorious. He added light bites and quick licks and her head rolled back instinctively to provide him better access. His added view of her exposed chest and the tops of her breasts hugged by her bra was an unintended benefit of their current position: him holding her in front of the mirror by the curve of her hips and her squirming visibly in front of the mirror, rubbing against his fattening unit hidden by his sturdy jeans. The layered fabrics of her brassier enticed him, his hands were on her breasts before he was done admiring the curve of her skin against the lace, stitching and satin, and his deeper urges were annoyed at their presence before his hands registered that he could remove them. He continued kissing her while beginning on her clothing, sliding straps off her shoulders. She couldn't help but close her eyes and hum happily, a slow, involuntary sound followed by a private smile spreading across her face.

"Baby," he whispered huskily.

"mmm?" she moaned back, blinking out of the sweet sensations creeping up her neck and slowly regaining attention to her surroundings.

He smiled, relishing his fantasy come to life. The effect his touch had on her was encouraging; he felt his dick strain at the thought of their bodies entangled. He felt the roaring urge to rip off her clothes rev loudly in his ears. He kissed her cheek, then her temple, and sneaked a deep inhale of her scent from her hair.

"I would love-" his voice catching with desire "to see you *see* yourself." She flustered, remembering his request among flashes of the rest of the night.

He had been easygoing and humbly charming, throwing his head back laughing at her disarming jokes and listening intently to her as they walked down the nearby marina. As the sun and her associated warmth sank out of view, he offered her his coat and tugged her in by the lower lapels for an under-streetlight kiss. She didn't pull away after the kiss. In fact, she uncharacteristically said nothing at all. Instead, she held fast to his shirt, gripping the fabric in her fists. She softly traced shapes on his neck and jawline with her nose. He ran his fingers through her hair, captivated by how the silky strands spilled out of his hands like water. She laid a soft slow kiss on his neck, feeling his pulse jump against her lips.

Words jumped to his lips before he had fully mulled them, "May I-" he cleared the nerves from his throat.

"Can..." His mind was swimming with desire. Her proximity was intoxicating. He gripped her well, his hands translating his desire better than his words could.

"Will you come home with me?"

He knew exactly what he wanted. As much as he wished to see her legs spread, her inner thighs exposed and the glistening between her legs revealed, he wanted her as her audience just as much. He stirred at the thought of her gasps echoed in the mirror, her nipples beaming at their shared attention, her body visible to him from both his angle and his opposite. His cock twitched, imagining the bliss of sliding into her from behind and simultaneously adoring the intimate expression of pleasure across her face. His affection for her swelled with each new facial expression he discovered; her telling features made her mesmerizing. His hands explored her roundness, feeling her begin to melt into him again since his murmured request.

This time, her eyes reminded locked on his hands in the mirror, traveling with his touch, snaking over her buttons and clasps, revealing her engorged breasts, soft torso, and naked pearl with each undone. She let out a shiver and a gasp and the last article of clothing was slipped off into the puddle around her feet. Her eyes traveled, exploring her own body in the mirror. She felt confused. Her body looked softer, sweeter, and more enticing than she remembered it looking when squeezing into her outfit this morning. She cocked her head and slipped her eyes up and down her frame, enjoying the body in the mirror and feeling a sexiness stir in her belly. When she finally flicked her gaze up, she was met his wide watchful eyes, capturing every moment of her self pleasure. She blushed and broke into a laugh, turning away from the mirror and towards him, resting her hands on his torso like she had earlier during their kiss. He cracked a smile too, but didn't laugh. Instead, he leaned down and murmured in her ear, "I love it, you know".

She shook her head, bashful. "What?" she whispered, muffling her question in his shirt.

"Your body," he answered, trailing his hands from her neck, down her spine.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, and he pulled her into a tighter embrace. She was grateful for his closeness. The strength of his embrace was deeply comforting to her, in a way she couldn't explain.

"And I loved," he continued, his voice thick with lust "watching you enjoy yourself."

Her breath caught at his confession, and she tugged his head to meet her lips.

She wanted him. She began ripping at his buttons, not making very much progress with the tiny pearl pucks until his experienced fingers raced to assist. She barely even tried to remove his belt; she pawed at the buckle until he jumped to free his jeans, slapping leather against leather and jingling hardware musically. She grinned at his eagerness until he met her for another passionate kiss; his 'eagerness' was now no longer contained by the thick material of his jean but instead pressed against her naked belly by their embrace. She gasped at the overwhelming hardness. He stepped out of his jeans and stood, naked and exposed before her.

He looked down, watching her take in his frame. She traveled slowly up his body, meeting his eyes. She gave him one gentle kiss, only capturing his bottom lip. Then, she turned around and bent slightly over, giving him an incredible view of her round, heart-shaped ass tapering into the small of her back and curve of her waist. His cock twitched as he glanced up to the mirror, meeting her lustful, trusting gaze, half-lidded in the mirror. The sight was precious. He slid the head of his dick against her sensitive anatomy while taking in the sight of her gorgeous breasts swelling with each ragged breath full of desire.

Truthfully, his gaze was an aphrodisiac and she was near brimming with a watery slickness that threatened to drool at any moment. Their anticipatory juices melted together and he teased her, swirling their sweet concoction against the length of her slit and clit. She let out a desperate sound; it was obvious her ache ran as deep as his. The pleading sound rang in his mind and he gripped her hard, holding on to his urgency for the sake of timing. He ran his hardness along her sensitivity one last time, and she begged for him through the mirror. Finally, he sank into her- agonizingly slowly, committing every micro-expression on her face to memory: the bite of her lip from his sudden presence, the worry of her brow as she succumbed to his slow pressure, the surprised yelp as she adjusted to his steady thickness, the melted, euphoric sigh as he rubbed past her g-spot, and the silent cry of fullness when he bottomed out inside her. He groaned gutturally and animalistically, unable to contain the desire finally unleashed from his soul now that he felt her fully.

Her squeeze felt like their earlier embrace, like a milestone in their relationship. The movement was sweet and hesitant, more like a flutter than a proper squeeze. His dick relished the feeling, and he could imagine being milked by her internal muscles. He froze for a moment, focusing instead on her face, allowing her to adjust to his full presence. Her eyes were closed as she hugged and released his length. Her hands were at her mouth, frozen in a mixture of awe and disbelief.

She gave a small and dreamy "ooh" when her squeezing pulled him deeper by a few more centimeters. He gave a tiny flex of his hips, pressing into her incrementally and watched her face for a reaction. She grimaced and inhaled sharply.

"Too much?" he asked, prepared to pull away.

She shook her head furiously, "No! No, please..." she bent down further, arching her back and wiggling her cheeks against his pelvis. The jiggle of her soft ass against his lower abdomen was too much for him, and he groaned and leaned in reflexively. She cried out again, and he could hear the pleasure in her response.

He savored her surrender and drank in her pose in the mirror: she was bend nearly in half by her own doing, her hair was splayed messily and she was reaching blindly between her legs.

"I can help with that," he announced, as he reached between her legs to rub her swollen clit.

"Oh I wasn't aiming for thA-!" her sentence is interrupted by squeals and moans and body spasms that would generally require both of his arms to hold her off the ground, were one hand not otherwise busy.

Her internal squeezing becomes more intense as her body heaves and spasms and she continues to cry out and squeal. Her bucking had made it hard to keep a consistent swirl of his fingers around her clit, but the wagging pressure from his persistent palm was clearly enough to warrant an uncontrollable reaction.

"Daddy!" she begs, not needing to communicate more. Her plugged, dribbling pussy speaks for her; she is trembling around his cock and still pawing between her legs.

She cannot breathe but in gasps and whimpers and her wetness coats him and her walls with a liquid that is now more satin-y than watery. He eventually slows the charm of his fingers but leaves his fullness stretched inside her. He seeks her eye contact in the mirror and finds that her bottom lip is trembling.

"Daddy," she breathes at the same time he whispers "baby..." and breaks into a grin, wiping some sweat from his brow.

He licks his knuckles, tasting her unique flavor, suddenly desperate for more of her essence. He feels a rush throughout his body, realizing that the puddle around their feet is evidence of her surrender, not of his. He felt his body climax with hers, but his heavy balls radiating with urge remind him that he is not finished yet. He grins again, invigorated and committing every feature of her orgasm to memory. Her body was a landscape, he was inspired to discover her every depth, her shape, her wetness. Her sounds felt like doses of adrenaline and her voice was as beautiful to him as the rest of her.

"Daddy?" he asked, still plugging her despite the dribbling liquid. He flexes his hips slightly, and she moans in response to the stretch.

She moans again in embarrassment, "Oh my god," she groaned, "it just came out, I'm sorry. Not going to do it again.."

He pulls her chin towards him and whispers "Never stop" before kissing her deeply.

"Never..... again," she insists through gritted teeth, as a rocking had begun under her just a few short moments before.

"Never...stop" he threatens, rocking stronger, causing her round ass to bounce up and down on his lap. It feels like a prayer.

"Never-" she tries, but his pace has caught up to her and she feels her internal fountain brew. "Daddy," she moans, "dammit! I mean- damn...it.... Daddy...damn...it....."

He takes her alternative title brainstorming session time to experiment with his stroke and it is obvious he has struck gold. She practically melts when he starts to slide in and out of her, giving her his full shaft length as opposed to only the last few inches. She tells him how each area that he slides though feels uniquely pleasurable: the stretch of her entrance, the gush of her g-spot, and the fullness of bottoming out. She reaches between her legs again and this time she has found what she is looking for. She rubs his balls gently and expertly, massaging them with her girly lube and rubbing them against her clitoris, moaning at their stimulation. They are full and heavy, and he hardly bear the sensation of her nimble fingers stroking, tugging, and coaxing an irruption from his fertile loins.

Luckily, the closer she gets, the less coordination she becomes. She moves her hand to her mouth, suspending her sounds, battling her cries. He wraps his arms around her carefully, one hand across her stomach, parallel to her hips and the other like a human seatbelt with his forearms. He picks her up and slides her smoothly from depth to point to depth again. His dominance is too much for her, and she is sent into another tizzy, overcome with pleasure, nearly slack as he pulls her body closer, holding her flush to his frame before sliding her away again. She makes sounds of protest, preferring the pressure of his pull to his distancing technique.

The position is hard and he grunts and growls through his efforts, which seems to have a mounting effect on her desire. Her sounds come out in whimpers, unable to communicate her existential pleasure the way her trembling limbs can. He has picked her up parallel to him now, dragging her to meet his stroke. The sound of his grunts in her ear keep her tied to their surroundings like a balloon string- the rest of her consciousness floats among clouds, stars, and galaxy mist. He slows but doesn't stop, using his additional focus to kiss her neck and murmur pet names into her ears.

He teased her, but her moniker for him had flattered him to the depths of his soul, making him feel more whole than he had before. He watches intently as she writhes in his arms, hypnotized by her heavy breath causing the flesh around his arm cage to balloon against the bars of his embrace. He has her held on full display and is again grateful to the mirror in front of them for the glorious view. Every inch of her body is reacting to him, desperate to deepen the friction of their limbs, torsos, and appendages. Her hands acted frantic and confused- he watched them ball into fists, stretch and claw at him, and tremble uncontrollably. He lets out a deep sigh of appreciation for her supple image, watching his half-buried cock slide in and out of her crest, re-glistened with each well-timed stroke.

"Daddy..." she murmured, as she blinked to clear the euphoric haze. As she centered, she followed his gaze to the mirror, drinking in the vivid image of her own supple body and the thick, shiny cock she was hosting. She moaned at the sight, closing her eyes to better memorize the look and feel of his tight arms supporting her weight.

"You look so good," his said emphatically, his nose tracing the curve of her ear.

"We do," she admitted, "but I think I am going to pass out if you make me come again."

He threw his head back, laughing at the thought, and began lowering her gently to the floor. The deep belly laugh had driven his cock a few precious centimeters deeper and she decided that fainting was well worth the risk. Her feet found the floor before her strength had returned, and she nearly collapsed when he began redistributing her weight back to her, his cock still hooked deep inside her.

"Woah," he chuckled, proud of the effect his efforts had on her, glad that their easy chemistry translated to the sexual compatibility of his dreams.

To Be Continued

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AnonymousAnonymous7 months ago

Where's the romance? It was just straight sex. Not really a story, just a fragment of one. 2*

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