The beautiful slut in the mirror
of
lilymanilli
genre
masturbation
The first thing you should know about me is that I'm painfully shy. I blush easily and rarely speak up. I like wearing clothes that make me inconspicuous. I've been called many things - sweet, clever, supportive, cowardly, empathic, timid, deep - but no one, not even my ex-boyfriend of eight years has ever called me horny. People have commented on my looks - pretty, proper, peculiar, pixie, pore posture - but no one has ever called me hot.
I started two days ago to read a bunch of stories from both men and women about masturbating in a mirror. They inspired me. This morning I re-read them and wondered if I could do something like that. The sliding closet door mirror was right there in front of me. I pulled off my pajamas and sat on the floor with my laptop, not doing anything yet, just re-reading the stories. After about fifteen minutes I looked up and saw in the mirror a woman I didn't recognize at all.
Her hair was a mess. Her lips were chapped and red. Her eyes were wide and intense. She didn't have the cute, pert, girly tits that you see in magazines scooped up coyly in bikini tops. She had hanging, lewd, womanly boobies with rubbery red nipples. She wasn't cute. She had obscene hips and thick powerful legs. Her hands were not demure, but rather her fingers were long and bony like spiders legs crawling over her lily white skin.
I watched this woman spread her legs and lift her hips to show me her vulva. She didn't have the shaved-smooth, childish pussy you see in porn, with all its flesh tucked neatly inside like a clam in its shell. She dug her fingers through a thatch of tangled hair and then over her labia that dangled out of her like swollen, ruffled flesh-petals. She opened the lips widely and explored the shock of glistening, deep pink. She hunted and found the throbbing button of her clit, her little kernel of joy.
The girl in the mirror was wanton and crass. She didn't have the submissive little pussy of a barely legal boy-toy. She had a powerfully red cunt, gushing like a mountain stream and hungry like a dragon's mouth.
She looked back at me from the mirror, moaning and writhing, and whispering dirty little taunts. "Look at you, you horny slut. You hot little goddess, look at your cunt. Look at it." She climaxed staring straight at me, her face scrunched up and beet red.
For a minute afterwards, I just lay on my back thinking about how the world sees me, and who this woman in the mirror might be. Before getting up and going to take a shower, I rolled over a got one last glimpse of her as she sniffed her fingers, smiling at the redolent, beachy, tang on her sticky fingers.
I started two days ago to read a bunch of stories from both men and women about masturbating in a mirror. They inspired me. This morning I re-read them and wondered if I could do something like that. The sliding closet door mirror was right there in front of me. I pulled off my pajamas and sat on the floor with my laptop, not doing anything yet, just re-reading the stories. After about fifteen minutes I looked up and saw in the mirror a woman I didn't recognize at all.
Her hair was a mess. Her lips were chapped and red. Her eyes were wide and intense. She didn't have the cute, pert, girly tits that you see in magazines scooped up coyly in bikini tops. She had hanging, lewd, womanly boobies with rubbery red nipples. She wasn't cute. She had obscene hips and thick powerful legs. Her hands were not demure, but rather her fingers were long and bony like spiders legs crawling over her lily white skin.
I watched this woman spread her legs and lift her hips to show me her vulva. She didn't have the shaved-smooth, childish pussy you see in porn, with all its flesh tucked neatly inside like a clam in its shell. She dug her fingers through a thatch of tangled hair and then over her labia that dangled out of her like swollen, ruffled flesh-petals. She opened the lips widely and explored the shock of glistening, deep pink. She hunted and found the throbbing button of her clit, her little kernel of joy.
The girl in the mirror was wanton and crass. She didn't have the submissive little pussy of a barely legal boy-toy. She had a powerfully red cunt, gushing like a mountain stream and hungry like a dragon's mouth.
She looked back at me from the mirror, moaning and writhing, and whispering dirty little taunts. "Look at you, you horny slut. You hot little goddess, look at your cunt. Look at it." She climaxed staring straight at me, her face scrunched up and beet red.
For a minute afterwards, I just lay on my back thinking about how the world sees me, and who this woman in the mirror might be. Before getting up and going to take a shower, I rolled over a got one last glimpse of her as she sniffed her fingers, smiling at the redolent, beachy, tang on her sticky fingers.
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