Mirrors
ONCE IN WILL'S BEDROOM, he slowly walked over to me and leaned down and kissed me. Just a kiss, very gentle and very sweet, no touching me anywhere else, his hands behind his back. Releasing his hands, he reached over to me and tucked my hair behind my ears and ran his fingers down my face, wiping away the last of my tears with his work-rough hands. He leaned over and kissed the trails where my tears had been. And then he held me for a very long time, fully dressed, my head in his chest.
Once I’d relaxed in his arms, he loosened his grip and reached to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up over my head, and trailed his fingers down my torso, pausing at my dove tattoo, lingering over my bra, exploring the Noah's ark tattoo.
He took off his shirt and I returned the favor, exploring the lines of his chest, enjoying the feel of him.
Our pants came off. Will yet again had gone commando. My underwear and bra disappeared. His erection pressed into my belly as he hugged and kissed me and the contact intensified as I hugged and kissed him back.
He guided me to his bed, walking me backward, pressing into me, until my butt hit the bed. And then he helped me up and kept going, until I was lying on my back across his bed.
Holding both of my feet for a moment, he looked at me, his eyes hungrily examining my body. Then he moved his hands up the insides of my legs, lightly, just his fingertips, making me shudder. Once he got to my pussy, he touched it gently, and then climbed up on the bed.
"Spread more, darlin'," he said, and I obeyed as he pushed my legs out as far as they would go. He kissed and suckled his way up from one knee to the inside of my upper thigh, and then stopped and started with the other knee. This time, once he got to my pussy, he licked it, just once, but thoroughly up all of the available real estate.
Then he smiled, dropped his head, and attended to me, gently licking and sucking, manipulating my pussy with his fingers, over and over again, his dark curls bobbing between my legs. I felt him worship me, letting me enjoy the consuming pleasure of his tongue on my sex. Squirming on the bed, my nails raking across the sheets, I started moaning, and then I got louder and louder as the sensation grew and grew and I came, my body shuddering, the pleasure rippling through my body.
He stayed with me, riding out the orgasm on his face, until I had calmed down and I realized that he was hovering over me, looking at me, positioning his cock at my entrance. His eyes were so passionate, so fierce, it was hard for me to look at him. He put his head down as he entered me, one slow delicious inch at a time, until he was fully seated within me.
After a moment he started to move, very gently, very carefully, caressing me with his hands, his fingers running over my breasts and massaging them, then going down my side, then holding my hips on one side, and then repeating the process on the other. I ran my fingers across his cheek and down his broad back. His cock hit a divine place inside me and I bore down on him, trying to clench around him, and take as much as he could give. He kept going and going, gently thrusting as he made very sweet love to me.
Suddenly Will pulled out and I whined, wanting his cock in me, wanting the fullness, wanting the pleasure. "Come back," I complained. "I was close."
"C'mere." He got up, erection sticking out at an unholy angle, and pulled me up by my armpits. Then he took my soft hand in his large, coarse farmer one, and pulled me from his bedroom, down the hall, me padding after him, naked as could be.
"Where are we going?" I whined.
"Wanna try this."
He led me into a bedroom, smaller than his, which was furnished with only a double bed. It also had a closet with double mirrored doors. Stopping in front of one of the mirrors, he gently turned me to face it and came around behind me, putting his chin on my shoulder, pressing his cock into my lower back and holding me around my waist.
"What do you see?" he asked quietly.
"You and me."
"Put your hands on the mirror. Brace yourself," he ordered.
I did as he said and he spread apart my legs, positioned himself behind me, and thrust into me. Oh, yes.
My eyes looked down at the ground. "Lift your head. Look at my eyes," he commanded.
I did. I saw his eyes, dark and demanding, and totally focused. On me. Totally into me. He pulled my hips back so that I was sticking my butt out against him and he began to thrust behind me, my arms still braced on the mirror. He held me tightly, one arm on my hip, the other hand snaked down between my legs, and he started to rub my clit, to the same rhythm of his thrusts, a sensuous pressure, not too light, and not too hard. Every time he thrust into me, my full breasts jogged up and down.
"What do you see, Marie?" he asked as he did this, but his voice this time was more urgent.
"You fucking me," I exhaled, beginning to pant again.
"Look closer."
I did. I looked at his beauty—his dark brown hair and eyes, his high cheekbones and narrow nose, his square jaw, his full lips. I saw his strong arms holding me, veins popping out down the side, his chest flexing. I saw his height, his stature, his presence.
But then I looked at myself in the mirror, being fucked by this incredibly hot guy. And I liked what I saw. I saw a pretty bleached blonde, edgy, but with some softness in her brown eyes, and the height to match him. I saw how sexy it was for me to be receiving what he was giving out. I saw that we fit together. We looked right together. Sure, I had tattoos and an eyebrow piercing, but that stuff didn't matter. We looked right together. It looked like I was meant to be with him, like no one would question why Will was with me. All that shit about our politics and beliefs didn't matter.
We looked like we belonged together.
"We are mirror images of each other," I whispered.
"Damn right," he said. "Now, tell me this is going somewhere," he ordered, as he increased the pace of his thrusts, his cock making my pussy spasm every time it received him, and the speed with which he was massaging my clit.
I moaned in response, the orgasm on its way.
"Tell me this means something. That this is going somewhere," he said again.
"Stop manipulating me through sex," I gasped.
"Tell me this is going somewhere," he repeated, vehemently.
"No!" I yelled.
He kept going, increasing the thrusts, fucking me hard against the mirror, watching my eyes the entire time, not letting go of my clit, bringing the tension, the pleasurable tension in our bodies up more and more, until we had to have a release. We had to. We’d die if we didn't.
"Tell me this is going somewhere," he yelled.
"Yes! Goddamn you, Will!" I screamed, "This is going somewhere. I could fucking fall in love with you if I let myself."
And with that, he said in my ear, "So let yourself," and thrust in hard and stayed there, so that it set off my reaction, and I shook, my legs collapsing, Will holding me up. My body flooded with the pleasure of the release of that sweet orgasmic tension and this set him off. He thrusted into me hard and high up in my body, hitting my fucking womb or something, and came.
I don't know how he held me up, but he did, his muscles shaking, and then he gently pulled me backward and onto the bed with him.
"This is going somewhere," he whispered as he held me, and I nodded my head to agree.