Reflections

In a small New England town, on a street with the houses of prosperous middle-class families sits the home of Sarah Morris and her family. In the house are three bedrooms and two bathrooms, each with a glassed-in shower. In the master bathroom is a whirlpool tub and beside it, an identical glassed-in shower but, beside the shower in this bathroom, is a floor to ceiling mirror. When she starts her day, Sarah checks her appearance in the mirror making sure that her hair is in place, her make-up is applied perfectly and that her clothing looks perfect for the day's activities.

While not a beautiful woman, Sarah still, at age 45, turns men's heads. She has a trim figure, average-sized breasts, a good ass, luxurious auburn hair that falls below her shoulders and piercing, emerald green eyes.

Her husband, Ernie, a successful executive in the local outpost of an enormous tech company, puts in time at the gym to keep in shape, dresses nattily and keeps his hair stylishly long. The women who work for him consider him a stud and talk about bedding him but Ernie only has eyes for Sarah.

The couple make love on the average of once a week, usually on Saturday night. They generally begin with oral sex for him, then oral sex for her followed by intercourse in the missionary position followed by the rear entry doggie position. Ernie always cums inside his wife's pussy. Sarah rarely does but she pretends to. The Woodburns have been married for eighteen years and, with few exceptions, the mating ritual has remained the same. He feels fine about their sexual relationship and never has a complaint. After all, he adores his wife. She never complains but secretly purchased a silver vibrator that she uses daily. Lately, even the vibrator doesn't make her cum.

"What the hell is wrong with me," she gripes to herself. "Maybe I need another toy. After all, I've had Fred (her name for the toy) for more than a year. Maybe it's time to go shopping and replace Fred with something bigger and more lifelike."

One day, while on a shopping trip with her closest friend, Brenda, she admitted that sex with Ernie never satisfied her and that now even Fred couldn't get her over the top.

"Maybe you could talk to Ernie and teach him what you need. Men always think their cocks are enough and don't pay attention to foreplay and what their woman needs."

"I wish I had a nickel for every time we've had that discussion. It's not that it's unpleasant. I mean, I like it when he fucks me or goes down on me. You're lucky. My Greg won't even go down on me. But you say that even your vibe won't get you over, though? That's concerning."

"I thought maybe a new toy would, you know, do the job."

"You're not thinking of having an affair, are you? Those never end up well."

"No. I'd never have an affair. I fantasize, but I adore Ernie; this sex thing has me stumped. Maybe there's something wrong with me."

"Maybe you're gay."

"Don't think I haven't thought about that."

"I read this piece, I think it was by a psychologist, in one of those women's magazines. She said this weird thing: if you think you're gay, get undressed, walk up to a full length mirror and make out with your reflection, tongue and all. If that arouses you, you may be gay."

"You've got to stop reading those magazines, girl. That's about the dumbest thing..."

So, the two women made their way to the local "toy store" and Sarah picked out a larger, flesh-like toy that was an approximation of Ernie's equipment.

"Let me know how it works out for you. Maybe I'll get one for myself," Brenda told her.

The next day, while the kids were outside playing and Ernie was mowing the lawn, she tried out Big Fred. Lying on the bed, she turned Big Fred on, her heart beating with anticipation. Oh it felt so good. She tried it on her nipples first, experimenting with the various speeds, then down to her clit which was already swollen with excitement. It's going to work. It's going to work. She slid it into her pussy. Yesss. It's going to work. Her excitement spiraled higher and higher. She didn't want it to stop.

Nearly an hour later she gave up in total frustration. The toy would excite her enormously but in the end, she was left hanging. She heard the front door close and quickly secreted the toy away and went into the bathroom to wash her sweating body up.

"You here, honey," yelled Ernie as he climbed the stairs to their bedroom.h

"I'm in the bathroom. I'll be right out. I was doing yoga and worked up a sweat," she lied. "I'm gonna take a quick shower."

"I'm next unless you want company. It was hot as hell out there. When she got out of the shower, she dried herself off and brushed her hair in front of the mirror. Looking at the mirror made her think about the dumb experiment Brenda told her about. She studied her body in the mirror. Her nipples swelled, "What the hell," she thought to herself, walked up close to the mirror and kissed the lips she saw there, then extended her tongue. The image of her kissing her reflection was a revelation. She continued the kiss then ran her fingers down to her clit; within thirty seconds her body exploded with an orgasm so powerful that it made her knees buckle. "Oh shit" was all she could say. Was she gay or maybe all the electric stimulation Big Fred supplied had brought her to the edge? She'd have to try the experiment again to be sure.

The following day they were all supposed to go see a new action film that had come out. She begged out saying that she had a headache and couldn't take the gunfire and explosions that the movie promised, so Ernie took the kids for pizza and a movie, which left her plenty of time to "experiment."

She set out her foam yoga mat in front of the mirror and lit a scented candle. Then, armed with Big Fred, she lay down on the mat, her feet against the mirror.

Slowly, she teased herself with Big Fred. She was already wetter than she could ever remember being. There was no need for lube. Big Fred slid in easily. In and out the silicone toy went. She got on her knees, facing the mirror and the reflection of her nude body as she slid her toy into her pussy deeper and deeper. She stared at the reflection and then applied her mouth to the silvered glass. Slowly, she extended her tongue, licking the glossy surface until, at one point, she experienced the illusion that a pair of lips and a warm tongue were kissing her back. She couldn't help herself but to furiously rub her clit just as the reflection was doing. It felt so wrong but so good when a starburst of passion lit her entire body from the inside out. "Fuck! Fuck! Yes," she screamed aloud before collapsing to the mat.

Once was not nearly enough. She repeated her experiment four times and it was on that fourth experiment that she experienced the illusion of having her breasts fondled by something warm and smooth. She dismissed it as just that: an illusion brought on by a cyclonic orgasm.

She showered, dressed in a pair of workout sweats and lay down on her bed waiting for Ernie and the kids to come home.

That night they uncharacteristically made love. This time, though, there was no pleasure for her. She was a numb piece of meat that Ernie was fucking. When he was through, when he had shot his load inside her, there was no pillow talk. She turned off her light and went to sleep dreaming about the mouth that kissed her and the warm and smooth arms that caressed her breasts.

"Honey, can you do the food shopping? I have so much laundry to do."

"Honey, you take the kids to soccer practice. I wanted to visit with my mom. She's not feeling so well."

And on and on it went as Sarah continued her experiments with the mirror. Ernie was beginning to think his wife was having an affair... and she was, in a way that he would never in a million years suspect. Their love making became more and more mechanical. It went from once a week to once every two weeks to once a month. They talked about it and Ernie upfront asked his wife if she was having an affair. Tearfully. She told him that, no, there was no one but him. She was going through some kind of changes, she protested. Ernie suggested counseling but Sarah knew how that would end up if she told the truth and, in fact, she hated herself for lying to get her alone time with the mirror in the bathroom.

But what she refused to admit, even to herself, was that she was, indeed falling in love. Who in their right mind would believe that she could reach into the glass and that her reflection could... well... do things to her as well?

About a month after her first experiment, the image in the glass mirror reached out and caressed her nipples. She knew she should have been terrified. She'd seen things like this happen in science fiction movies, but that, she knew, was special effects. She'd reached out to touch the reflection's nipples and the reflection did the same thing. It was so benign, so lovingly done that she felt no terror at being confronted with the impossible. And so it went, wherever the reflection touched, she touched. When she inserted her fingers into the reflection's pussy or anus, the reflection did likewise. When she orgasmed so did her reflection. And oh! What orgasms they were! When they were done, they'd put their arms around one another and kiss.

Somehow, she was cheating and Ernie knew it. She was in love with someone else. But who?

It went on like this for months. Finally, with his family virtually falling apart, Ernie told his wife to choose. He couldn't take it any longer. Sarah, in tears, tried to stay clear of the mirror. She wanted to keep her family and she wanted to keep her lover, too.

One day, in a small New England town, on a street lined with the houses of prosperous, middle-class families, in the house that the Morris family lived in, a forty-five year old mother of two was seduced into another dimension, never to be seen or heard from again.