the mirror looked on

It was the morning after the night before with my friend Lisa, after having had a sleep-over decided we needed a shopping trip.  Specifically for underwear as I’d neglected to bring spare overnight and anyway, to be honest, any excuse for some retail therapy.

First stop Marks & Spencer, where else when you’re desperately short of such bare essentials.

In the lingerie section we browsed like excited deer having just found fertile lush grassland.  After much browsing and my usual discernment in my quest to feed my passion for lingerie I settled on a pair of low-rise cotton knickers with diagonal two-tone black stripes, predictably for me magnetically-drawn to black because black is black and a preferred colour of mine. I wasn’t planning on a bra but, well, I was here now and I couldn’t resist their allure.  Matching wasn’t important which gave me much more free reign in the Sale section.

I’d also my eye on a burgundy slip dress so I nabbed that too and made my way to the changing rooms where I was handed tags by the shop assistant there. I found an empty one, pulled across the curtain and removed my jacket, my shirt and just as I unzipped my skirt in came Lisa bold as you like; just like her not to be in the least self-conscious.  Between the two of us I’m clearly the most reserved, mostly.  Her sudden appearance made me stop what I was doing but then carried on, after all this wouldn’t be the first time we shared a changing room.

Unzipping my skater skirt left me stood in my knickers and my bra, well actually her knickers which I’d borrowed.   She commented that her knickers looked good on me, then smiled with a smile I knew all too well: one with wicked intent.

I looked into the mirror, I looked back……

I blushed, I do so always far too easily at the slightest of things. I slipped on the slip dress falling easily over my head with the thin straps dropping onto bare shoulders.  I liked it.  Lisa liked it.  Seemed like a winner as unanimity won out.  Lisa then from behind laid her hands on my shoulders initially adjusting the straps. She was a couple of inches taller and ran her hands down my shoulder and I whispered, with a grin, to ask her what she was doing.  No answer forthcoming, instead she continued running her hands up and down the slip, my sides and then unexpectedly over my breast, sending a certain shiver down my spine.  For a moment I forgot where I was shuddering, closing my eyes, sighing.

I looked into the mirror, I looked back…..

From behind me she continued running ran her hands freely over me, over all of me, exploring, caressing, squeezing, down over my tummy pulling me back against her while her palms pressed into the thin material of the dress against my skin enticing intense waves.     Then so slowly she raised little by little the slip her hands around my hips pressing herself against my bottom, her fingers now trailing tendrils slithering unashamedly between my thighs. I watched our reflection, her hands, her face behind me watching me and mine watching her, watching my own body squirm under her uncanny spell.  I felt we’d stepped into the mirror together becoming silver absorbing us both into one flowing and sinuous knot.

I looked into the mirror, I looked back…..

Our bodies began to entwine….. the slip, still not paid for, was gathered in her grip and lifting til I saw my, her, knickers tight to my hips, her hands magicked their way across the cotton; her knickers, my skin, my nakedness beneath.

I looked into the mirror, I looked back…

Lisa’s face was half-buried in my hair still behind me, we looked a right pair of mischiefs to the mirror. My skin grew flushed, the slip was now up around my waist, one strap off my shoulder along with one strap of my bra.  Her lips flowed over my now naked shoulder as I tilted my head as though making an offering.  She searched, explored and found yet more of me wanting, her hand inside the knickers, her knickers, my hips, she wickedly whispered, “well, they are mine after all”.  Slow motion, speaking with the hands of a dancer conveying all words and thoughts in choreograph.

I looked in the mirror, I looked back…..

Just like watching soft pornography but with me in the leading role and both playing our part;  for a moment I wondered if I ever would, or could, ever do such a thing: I smiled at the thought, the prospect, the possibility, to be a slave to a script, a director, a camera. The show must go on.

I looked in the mirror, I looked back…..

Her well-versed fingers slid under the elastic to touch my bare skin, my mound teasing me open, soft fleshy folds. Like a reflex I parted my mouth to this near-overpowering wave crashing through me as she touched the tiny hood of my clit.

I looked into the mirror, I looked back…..

Our skin almost molten, I reached round grabbing her hips further enhancing our motions, my arousal, in these changing rooms, this shop, this private public space hidden only by a loose curtain.    She spun me back around and her love-making fingers found me, spread me and with one finger slipped softly inside pulling down the knickers. A story played out in reverse, the mirror, my near-nakedness, half exposed, two streams converged and her finger now soaked in my excitement slid back to tease my sex around and around, over and over, fluid dynamics, my legs almost gave way, surrendering.

I looked into the mirror, the voyeur looked back……

I wore her like a cloak of many kisses as her fingers teased with a growing urgency clearly in both of us. I felt it, in her and in me. Two souls breathing to silent music, an inevitable crescendo awaits. Faster and faster her ministrations, my legs began to buckle, my hips ached, she held me up….. the knickers filled with her hands and I knew I was close, closer to what she will inevitably happen, what she is making me do, almost embarrassed but completely enmeshed.  She forced me to accept it all, her whispers and fingers in that instant, all at once, a tsunami of urges I was drunk with the need.

I looked into the mirror, I looked back…..

I was taken…

offered as sacrifice…

my whole body came to a split moment…

my orgasm trembled and ripped from my body…

she whispered, “let it go, let it all go”

I did, the floor beneath me vanished into an ovation of lights consuming us both and my thighs collapsed into tremors as she insisted and persisted until I was spent, breathless, my limbs weren’t attached anymore. She held me against her, still just about upright.

I looked in the mirror, we looked back……..

Her hand slid away but not before brushing a now hardened nipple tender to every nuance, she eased down the slip back over my hips.

I looked in the mirror, I looked back…..

I breathed, she breathed, I grinned, she grinned.   I slid out of the slip dress and back into my own clothes as just then I noticed a slit in the curtain into the shop outside remembering finally where I actually was. Turning back to the mirror I saw the assistant furtively glancing a few feet away.  I thought at first disapproval until I looked again and found just the opposite, a half-smile, I’m sure too a sense of relief making me think perhaps she too had just in her own way tasted just a little of what I just had.

“do you think I should buy it?” I asked Lisa to which she replied in a most definite affirmative; done deal.  We abandoned the cubicle handing the tags back to the still smiling assistant who quietly offered, “I hope you got what you needed and that you come again soon” which, although was framed in her best ‘customer service’ expression, it was done so with knowing eyes. How could I refuse such an offer, and soon I most definitely will.

mirror looked on

© 2018 Emmaleela


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