Adventures in Eros: Episode 01

Episode I: The Magic Mirror

The mirror was large with an ornately wrought golden frame. The body-length stand had a swivel and lock-handle, making the mirror adjustable. Shane admired the mirror for a long time, in the back corner of Cassandra's Curio. He swiveled the mirror into a number of positions, smiling at what uses he might find for such a mirror. The style of it seemed almost fantastic; as if this mirror could have been the one the witch used to ascertain whom the most beautiful girl in the land was. The price tag read $45.00, and Shane did a double take at this price.

He made his way to the front of the store, where Cassandra sat behind the counter with her headphones on. "Hey, Cassandra?" He said, loudly. Cassandra looked back at him, sliding the phones from her ears and resting them around her neck. "Hey... that mirror back there-"

"Yep... forty-five. The frame's wood with cheap gold plating outside... not worth much at all."

Shane was taken aback by Cassandra's appraisal. Shane had been coming to this story for ages, and had never seen anything so oddly priced. So what if it was wood? Perhaps he was not seeing the mirror in the same light as Cassandra was, and looked back at it from the counter. Yes, it remained beautiful, and fantastic. "I'll take it."

***

Packing the mirror up the stairs to his third floor apartment had been a challenge, especially since the stairway up was pretty narrow. As he grasped the edges of the mirror's frame and traversed the stairs, he thought he could feel coolness radiating from the mirror, as if it had just come out of a refrigerator. The feeling persisted the whole way, yet his hands didn't actually get cold from carrying it. He set the mirror up in his bedroom, arranged so that he could sit on the foot of the bed and see himself in the reflection. Thus set, he locked the mirror into place, and left it for the moment.

After a quick shower he quickly cleaned up that morning's breakfast dishes, wishing that Sable was a bit more reliable in doing her share of the chores. After this he vacuumed the living room where they had both dropped popcorn last night watching that horror movie. Dishwasher going and floor cleaned, Shane returned to his bedroom, to the mirror.

Standing in front of the mirror, he appraised himself. At five-seven, he was shorter than the average man, but what he lacked in stature, he made up for in fitness. His hair was short, and brown, styled into a contemporary, spiky fashion. His face was clean-, clearly showing his high cheekbones, and well-defined jaw. His eyes were a stormy blue that sometimes feigned gray. Most of the girls that he had dated seemed to think he was cute, though he had never been accused of being called handsome, that was a term for taller men. Shane was okay with cute, though.

He slid his hands to the buttons of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning the rayon garment, letting the shirt fall to the floor at his feet. His chest and abdomen were well defined, and he let his fingers play across the taut muscles for a moment, building the anticipation for what he knew was coming. His hands slid down, over the fabric of his blue jeans, feeling his hardening member beneath.

Shane loved mirrors, not because he was truly in love with himself, but because watching himself masturbate always seemed to make it that much better... there was a subtle sense of shame that enhanced everything. When you watch yourself doing this act, it is hard to maintain any fantasy, hard to ignore what is really happening. The sense of shame and the fact that his bedroom door was slightly open were exciting him wildly, and he groped at himself desperately, whimpering slightly to himself.

He could not bear this much longer. Impatiently, he snapped open his jeans and allowed his cock to come out, free of the binding denim. He never wore underwear. The brass teeth of his zipper scratched his shaft as it came out of his jeans, and he hissed. The pain only heightened it, though, and it had not been much pain, at that. He curled his hand around the shaft and stroked it. He wanted to take his time, but found himself stroking quickly, as if he were already well past aroused. His stroking motion became too pronounced; he reached out with his other hand to steady himself, nearly knocking over the mirror.

Truly impatient now, Shane stopped his stroking and shucked completely out of the jeans, and went to the bed. He sat on the foot of the bed, and leaned back. He resumed his stroking, locking his gaze onto the reflection of his cock, and his hand. This was much better. He was overcome with a desperate urge to cum now, and stroked his member madly, whimpering at the intensity of it. His eyes fixed on his own masturbation, he felt the rising tide of an orgasm inside his loins.

~"Is he going to cum?"~

The voice seemed to be a dream, to Shane, but real in the sense that it affected him. The idea that a woman could see him doing this excited him beyond measure, but there was another sensation involved. His desperation to cum increased to a fever pitch, and he thought he could see a flickering image of a woman in black leather in the mirror. His senses exploded as his orgasm finally erupted. He kept stroking, hard, slow strokes as his cum shot out, squirting an improbably distance with each convulsion. Each spasm of cum made the distance from the bed, to the mirror.

His orgasm seemed to go on for a long time, but when it was over, Shane found himself oddly energized. Usually, he found himself drained after such an orgasm. Refreshed now, and curious, he stood and moved over to the mirror, where his own semen, slowly dripping down the surface of the mirror. There was a flicker, and once again he could see the woman in black leather, except now she was replacing his own reflection. The woman was about his own height, perhaps an inch taller, and she had dark red hair that might have been black in the right light. Her face was almost free of make up, except at her lips, which were dark red, to match her eyes.

Shane found himself mesmerized in her red gaze. He stared in fascination as the woman leaned close, almost touching the plane of the mirror. Her dark lips parted, and her tongue slipped out, and slid along the ridge of her teeth, showing off a pair of fangs. She continued moving forward, her tongue sliding out to an unnatural length, to lick the other side of the mirror's face, licking up the reflection of Shane's cum. To his amazement, the cum on this side of the mirror vanished along with it's counterpart as the dark red woman.

So amazed was he by this strange phenomenon that he didn't take notice of the woman's hand emerging from the mirror itself, slowly reaching for him, and gently wrapping around his penis, which was still hard, and suddenly getting harder at her touch. He was suddenly overcome with another orgasm, though this one was far more powerful than any he had ever even know could be. He was lost in it, covered in it, filled with it, and becoming it all at once. So powerful was the sensation, that at its height, Shane passed out, and did not wake up for sixteen hours.