Erotic Story #10

Treat One: Mirror Image
A few afternoons ago, I stopped in front of the full-length mirror in our
bedroom. It's about 4-feet
wide, floor to ceiling high. I spied a small spot on my blouse, just at the
tip of my left breast. I
stepped into the bathroom for a wetted Kleenex, returning to the mirror to
rub at it. It went away
easily enough.
I noticed the end of my breast was getting hard. I let the Kleenex drop to
the floor in front of me,
and kept my fingers on my tit. I gazed into the mirror. At age 29, I am still
an attractive girl, with
smooth soft skin, large breasts, and long auburn hair that falls to my
shoulders. I looked down at
the reflection of my legs in the mirror. "Shapely and sexy", I thought to
myself. My stomach is flat, a
result of my refusal to have children. My hips are well rounded, and padded
in just the right places.
Feeling a familiar tingle between my legs, I unbuttoned my blouse to examine
my breast more
carefully. I liked what I saw. On purpose, I dress to display my breasts,
enjoying the furtive glances
of men - and women too. Sometimes they look at me with eyes that reveal they
are undressing me
in their minds. That always excites me.
I pulled at the snaps on the front of my bra and watched it fall to my feet.
My fingers were soft on
the bare skin of my breasts and soon the tips were both hard as rocks. I
moved my body forward,
touching my own breasts to the breasts in the mirror. What an exhilaration! I
rubbed my upper
body against the mirror, enjoying the cool, hard feel of the reflected girl
in front of me. I kissed my
mirrored lips and let my tongue explore the tongue of the girl in the glass.
I dropped my skirt,
revealing nothing under it, except my bush and bare legs. My right hand went
to my cunt. It was
already soaking wet. I thrust two fingers inside myself and began a pulsating
motion. Then I
remembered the tapered candle on the top of the chest of drawers, next to the
mirror. I reached
out and grabbed it. I licked it till it was soaking wet, and gently replace
my two fingers with it. I
stood there, in front of the mirror, watching myself move the candle in and
out, faster and faster, my
other hand playing with one of my breasts. The satisfied look on my face
etched a gorgeous
memory on my brain, as I came, and came, and came.
Treat Two: Wet Dreams
That night I re-enacted the mirror scene for my husband, Harry. I got so
carried away that I came
several times. The last time I came especially big, because I looked over my
shoulder, in the mirror,
and saw Harry, cock in hand, pumping himself madly. "Come on my ass", I
begged him. He
graciously obliged and I rubbed his cum all over my buttocks, while he
cock-rubbed my ass.
We went to bed exhausted, lying naked, my font to his back. I had my left arm
over him. Sometime
in the night, I heard him moan enough to partially awaken me. It sounded more
like he was having a
dream than pain. I gently moved my arm down to his groin. Sure enough, there
it was, that swollen,
rock-hard organ of his. I put my fingers around it and started pumping. He
has taught me exactly
were to put the tips of my fingers to give him the greatest delight. He came
alright - all over my
fingers. I quickly put them in my mouth and sucked on them as I fell asleep.
Harry either did not
awaken, or pretended that he was still asleep beside me.
Treat Three: Surprise Visitor
The next morning, sometime before dawn, I was aware of someone in the
bedroom. I did not think
anything of it, because Harry has been leaving for work early for the last
couple of weeks. It was
still dark, when I felt someone climbing in bed beside me. At
first I assumed that Harry had decided to bag work for a while and get some
more cock massaging
from me. But as the naked body came closer to me, I smelled the distinct
fragrance of a women's
perfume. Then the smell seemed mixed with a musky odor. I knew the second
smell was cum. It
smelled much like Harry's that I had tasted hours before.
Before I could react to this strange and unfamiliar situation, the girl
beside me was pressing her
body to mine. She put a hand behind my hips and pulled my twat against hers.
Next she put her
other arm around my shoulders and was pressing our breasts to each other. I
thought of the girl in
the mirror the day before, but this body was warm, friendly, and definitely
alive. I have had no
lesbian liaisons to compare to, but I was not alarmed, afraid, or turned off.
No, I was definitely
turned on.

Next, my unexpected guest put her lips
on mine and licked me with her tongue.
When I met her exploration with my
own tongue, all my reason was
abandoned. It was strange having her
put her fingers up my love tunnel, but it
felt so good. She stopped Frenching
me long enough to say, "It's Angie,
your next door neighbor, Marilyn. I've
watched your body for a long time and
Harry said this might be a good time
for me to approach you. He let me in
the front door." My mind reeled, trying
to make the connection. Had Harry
run into her in the hallway on his way
to work? Unlikely, I thought.
Angie did not keep me in suspense for
long. "My cunt is full of Harry's cum",
she announced. "I thought you might
like to lick it out".
"You bitch", I responded. "When were you with Harry?"
"Where do you think he goes in the mornings when he leaves early for work",
she taunted.
So now I knew. I suppose I should have thought of something like that myself,
but I had not. What
saved me was that I tried to envision Harry and Angie fucking each other. My
anger was overcome
by the burning between my legs - and Angie's exploring fingers were not
helping me change my
attitude.
"I hope your tongue knows what to do about the ache in my pussy, Angie", I
ventured, "Because I
sure as hell am going to lick my husband's cum out of yours."
With that, I turned myself upside down and we lay there, side by side,
sucking each others pussys,
rolling back and forth over, under, and beside each other like a couple of
newlyweds. Before
Angie came, I got plenty of Harry's cum in my mouth and on my face. It was
mixed with the
sweetest tasting juices from Angie. I don't know how other girls taste, but
Angie is like honey.
During the next few days, Angie and I gave a new meaning to "girl's morning
coffee clutch". In fact,
we are finding it difficult to keep our hands off each other. One morning, I
showed her my mirror,
and we came together in front of it. At least now, Harry does not have an
exclusive on her. Next
Friday, I have invited Angie and her husband over for diner. He's a nice
looking guy. I think Angie
and I will serve ourselves for desert.

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