Mirror Mirror On The Wall 9

10/28/2022

As the belt wraps itself around my hip, kissing the underside of my soft tummy, I see his face. Honey eyes sparkling in the lamplight with delight and edged with darkness and velvet. There is a quick flick of his tongue on his bottom lip as he places a hand on my reddened ass and smoothes, rubbing small circles with his palm. Then a pause. And the rest of his mask drops. His long eyelashes, once hiding the fire in his gaze, are now not enough to keep me from seeing the true man underneath.

Wrapped once around his hand, his leather belt dangles to the floor, swinging as he shifts his weight into a wider stance. In the mirror, I see his arms tense as he pulls the supple belt taut between his hands, preparing myself for a snap as it leaves his grip. A glimmer sparks in his eyes as I watch him gaze upon my body, choosing his next intended soft spot carefully.

Options. He has options. His firm hand glides down my left cheek, grazing my open pussy, and then glides back up my hip to the small of my back, his face intently following. I have never felt so seen; so wanted.

I brace for the impact of a sharp sting, but it doesn't come. A shiver runs down my spine and settles in my hips as I feel the pad of his thumb press against my puckering asshole. I lift my head to watch him in the mirror.

He looks so beautiful, so much like all I imagined that he could be the first time I laid eyes on him. In his element, disciplined, focused, and unbelievably capable. I had no more control. I had lost it at some point without even realizing it. He was owning me, and using my tending body to soothe his beast into the darkness. I was prey.

Soft jazz played in the background, but not a word was spoken. He tilted his head from side to side, and his brow furrowed. With one hand on my hip, he dropped his belt and stroked his goatee once. Then his chin tucked under, and I could tell that a decision had been made. His hands grabbed my hips and he pulled them up and closer to him.

I couldn't help but moan softly as he used his fingers to spread my pussy lips open, sliding first one, then two, fingers inside of me. His other hand slid up my back and pushed down between my shoulder blades, flattening my chest to the mattress, and pressing my face to the sheets. In the mirror, I could see him working his fingers in and out of me, his gaze focused and intent. He glanced up at my face and our eyes locked. That damn tongue of his just couldn't stay in his mouth, and I watched him lick his bottom lip, and bite it while maintaining eye contact.

As he slid his cock into me, his jaw dropped and his mouth opened into a perfect circle of pleasure and surprise at the feeling of my pussy clenching him. I squeezed tight, watching him have to force his way inside. He gets it all of the way in, and then holds it there- filling me completely. My full pussy stretches, and there is a feeling deep in my belly that can only be described as satisfaction. Fulfillment. Abandon. And smug pride at the look on his face. Daddy is gone for a moment, and it is my Jonah- tender and appreciative of what I am able to give. He is simply enjoying my soft body in this fleeting moment, and how I am able to make him feel so good.

I am so proud.

With a grind of his hips, his face clouds and Daddy is back. Determined and relentless, he starts his stroke. It's not the typical pounding in and out that you see in so many porns and selfish lovers.

I watch his lithe and precise body move in sweeping strokes with a near surgical precision as he hits all sides of my pussy. Have I ever seen anything as erotic as this beautiful man fucking me with such care and attention? His eyes never leave my body as he watches me match his stroke, and I can feel him harden and grow again inside of me. I pause for a moment to appreciate that this man isn't fucking me with just his cock, or his hips, or his legs; but with his entire body moving like waves in an ocean. One building upon the next and crashing into the shore, finding release.

And then there is his face. Hard. A little scary because the softness has disappeared. Cold and precise, but I can still see those honey eyes beneath the darkness so I still know that it is him.

I moan a small "ow," and he groans, picking up speed and using larger movements. More excited now, one hand falls upon my head and pins my face to the mattress.

"Watch us in the mirror. Watch me fuck you," he demands. I do not have to be told twice. We look so good, locked into each other, our bodies swaying together in passion.

If I had known this was going to be our last time together, I may have taken more time holding him, and covering his body in a protective layer of my kisses. Looking back, I don't know how I didn't realize it. Our urgency in the moment, desperately trying to taste every bite we took of each others bodies, touching every inch and trying to memorize every curve and dimple. My unconscious mind was screaming at his unconscious mind, and it heard me.

So we savored it. Drank it all in, taking everything we allowed each other to take. I begged for reminders, asking him to mark my thighs so I could see the bruises. Letting him stretch my pussy with his hand, so I could feel it every time that my body tensed, or sat down. I didn't regret a moment. And I hope he didn't either.