Reflections
Wild Angel

It was awkward for him to get me up the stairs with his hands over my eyes, but he was trying. Of course, my giggling and taking every advantage of him being so close behind me to press and wiggle against him didn't make it any easier. But if he wanted to do it this way, I was going to have fun with him, too.

My Christmas present, he said, was too big to put under the tree. It even had to be delivered while I was out of the house. So sending me off to the salon for an hour of pampering, complete with a manicure and fresh polish on my nails, Sam knew I'd be out of the house for a specific time. Upon my return, he'd met me at my door, helped me slide off my coat with a kiss and walked me to the bottom of the stairs up to my bedroom, refusing to answer my pleas to know what this ‘so secretive’ present was!

"Bella, if you don't stop," he growled in my ear as we laughingly stumbled up another step, "we'll never get to the top of these stairs, and you'll never know what the gift is." Two people trying to walk lockstep up a flight of stairs is hard enough, but when one is busy trying to keep the lead person's eyes covered, and the lead person taking advantage of his already occupied hands by reaching  back and pulling his hips tight, deliberately wriggling behind, it becomes a precarious endeavor.

"But Sam," I answered, voice dripping with innocence, "I'm just trying to help you stay close enough to keep your hands over my eyes." I delighted in the flagrantly erotic push of his hips against my derriere even as he muttered at me again.

"Saucy wench," he grumbled with a laugh, managing to get us up another couple of steps. "You would plead innocent even as you seduced a man. Get up those stairs! You wanted to see your present; it's waiting for you in your room!"

We lurched together up a few more stairs, using every excuse to press body to body. "Did you get me a puppy?" I laughed breathlessly as we reached the landing. Then gasped low and felt the instant heated flow of my hormones as Sam leaned closer and warmly kissed the back of my neck.

"No," he whispered in my ear between nibbles behind my ear. "Why would I get you something that would draw your affection away from me? I like having your entire focus," he bit softly on the muscle at the base of my neck, and I felt my legs weaken.

"Oh Sam," I breathed, "You definitely have my entire focus right now. Oh baby, I can't think of anything else." All I was aware of was him, his warm solid body behind me, and his hands cradling my face, covering my eyes, heightening all my other senses. His voice low in my ear, reminded me of the many times he'd spoken soft and low while sending my body to the stars. I could even smell the warm, comforting smell that was only his, the one I buried my nose into the pillows for when he was gone.

He somehow got me through the doorway into my room as I fell deeper under his spell as he kissed and held me. I was putty in his hands, and I wanted him to touch me everywhere!

"Merry Christmas, honey," he kissed my earlobe as he said it softly, and slid his hands from my eyes to my shoulders.

I blinked a few times, regaining my focus, not really wanting to surface from the warm sexual haze he'd put me in. The room was dimly lit, the curtains cutting the brightest of the glare of the sun, making the room glow with molten, golden light. As my wits gathered again, I focused on his gift.

A mirror. Not just any mirror: tall and regal, it could've been imposing in many rooms. Not in mine, however. With my eccentric choice of decorating lavishly with yards of silks and velvets draping everywhere, that grandiose, freestanding mirror seemed right in place.

"Oh Sam." We stood motionless for a moment as I looked at it, its glass reflecting us. The wood was dark and lustrous, polished to a satin finish that begged to be touched. The uprights were tall and topped with ornate finials, one of which Sam had tied a huge bow, packaging my gift. I could see Sam’s face behind mine in the mirror, watching me as we stood there before it. "Oh Sam." I turned and cupped his face, and kissed him softly, but poignantly. "It's beautiful," I whispered to his face, my eyes on his, my usual loquaciousness abandoning me in the face of such a gift.

I left him to go touch it, to run my fingers over the lovingly crafted wood. "You made this, didn't you," I asked, already knowing the answer. Sam worked in wood only as a hobby, but somehow I knew he had made this.

"Yes. For you," he said, hanging back as I walked around it, delighting in it's every surface, every detail. I trailed my fingers over the wood, stroking the sensuous curves of the frame. “For us."

I glanced at him and grinned low, reaching up almost to my full arms length to give the grand toppers of this fine piece of furniture one last stroke. "For 'us'?" I questioned, coming back to him to wrap my arms around him and kiss him again, delaying his response, before turning in his arms and leaning back against him in the sweet comfort of his cradling arms as I looked at it again.

"Yes," he answered, as we smiled low at each other in the mirror, and said no more. My gaze slid from him back to the mirror. It was solidly built, but not cumbersome looking. A golden, sun kissed wood framed the oval glass. The uprights were thick and solid; that mirror was going nowhere, yet the detailing of intricate incised scrollwork kept it from looking too massive. The feet were strong and stable looking, yet the exquisite details had not been left out - they were reminiscent of the talons of bird feet, strong and unshakable.

"Beautiful," I sighed. As his chin nuzzled my shoulder from behind, he concurred equally quietly.  When I glanced at him in the mirror, his gaze on me said his adjective was not meant for the craftsmanship of his gift. His arms were around my waist, cradling me to him. Slowly, his hands moved, spreading out his fingers, moving to slide up my ribcage. I felt my pulse quicken as I felt his warm hands through the maddening interference of my blouse and watched their slow movement in the mirror. Sam stopped his hands just before reaching my breasts. He pulled me back against him as he kissed the nape of my neck again, his eyes on mine in the mirror.

His hands moved again, sliding downward, his spread fingers light colored against the dark blue of my blouse, then the dark patterning of my skirt. Relentlessly, his hands slipped down the front of my hips. I tipped my hips forward into his palms, seeking a deeper touch. But he was in charge, and had me under his spell. His spread fingers ended their downward path on the fronts of my thighs. In the mirror, I stared at the erotic vision of his outspread hands framing the part of my body that had become aroused and wanting by his evocative attentions. He brought his hands up slowly, rucking up my skirt with the friction of his hands on my skin. More and more of my hose clad thighs came into view, then the lace covered tops; Sam's fingertips curled into fists to bring my hem high enough to expose the bared skin above the stocking tops. My breathing was shallow and panting already, and the tiniest part of my mind registered that Sam's breathing was as aroused as mine. As was his body, pressed tight against my backside.

"Beautiful," Sam breathed warmly on my neck, there being no question as to exactly what he meant. My body felt the flush of heat from the empowerment, rising me in an unstoppable tide, one that Sam had unleashed. I moved restlessly under his hands, wanting more.

His hands moved again, dropping the hem of my skirt, but skimming up my body to cup my breasts fully this time, making me take a deep, ragged breath. His touch was warm, kneading me softly, and combined with Sam's face nuzzling my neck from the back, I was weak-kneed. Then his fingertips moved to the little buttons of my blouse.

I watched in the mirror. The juxtaposition of his large, masculine hands working the little pearl buttons out of their buttonholes was mesmerizing. More and more of my pale flesh was exposed between the slowly parting edges of the blouse. I watched as Sam unbuttoned me completely, then gently pulled the tails of my blouse from my waistband. He stepped back from me for a moment, putting enough space between us to allow him to slip the lapels off my shoulders, and slide the dark blue fabric down and off my arms. I watched him lean in behind me and felt his tongue moist and warm lick up my spine before he closed the space between us again.

He was driving me mad. The combination of watching his actions in the mirror at the same time and feeling his touch on me was a heady blend. His hands were busy at the back of my skirt. I felt the waistband loosen as he unfastened it. We watched together in the mirror as he let the skirt slide slowly down over the swell of my hips until it dropped into a dark puddle around my feet.

The mirror held an erotic vision -- me ; clad in only a dark blue satin bra and panties, with matching garter belt holding up sheer hose. I shivered, not from cold, but from the intensity of my hunger, my passion. The look of his eyes as he devoured me visually in the mirror heightened the feeling inside me of melting, of becoming molten and running together inside, pooling in the heated vee of my legs.

His hands busied themselves for a moment at my back and I could suddenly breathe deeper as the bra fell loose around me. I felt like my breasts were swelling, becoming heavier, pushing it off. He helped the process, agonizingly slowly; by sliding the straps down my arms and letting it too drop to the floor.

Every inch of my being screamed in the want of his hands to return to me! And I watched, with eyes barely able to focus through my hunger, as his hands stroked slowly up under my arms, up my hips to waist and above. Then watched as he slowly slid to cup those big masculine hands over my swollen sensitive breasts, to stroke thumb tips across my tight nipples. I heard myself groan as I heard him take a slow breath.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed into my ear softly, both our eyes on our erotic vision in the mirror. "I want you to see what I see. How sexy you are. How incredibly appealing you are." He rolled my nipples between his fingertips lightly, making my knees weak. "I want you to be able to see what I see, see part of what makes me want you so much."

I was whimpering now, restless in his arms, wanting him to touch me deeper. I tried to turn in his arms, but he'd have none of it.

 "Look. Look at us," he demanded.

One hand caressed its way down my abdomen. Then fingertips slid briefly beneath the waist of the garter and panties. I quivered with desire, wanting to rise on my tiptoes to drive that hand deeper.

"Please, Sam... pleeeasssse..." I moaned.

I could feel his hardness pressing against me from behind, and felt and heard his breathing as raspy and wanting as my own.

"Please! I want you in me!"

His teasing, along with the erotic vision of watching his touch on my body in the mirror, had left me panting with hunger for him.

He dropped to one knee behind me swiftly. His sudden release of my body left me swaying slightly, blinking, and trying to regain some wits. But his hands were busy on me, distracting me. He unfastened the hose from the garters with a speed that amazed me, then had the garter off me before I could even think. His hands curled around my legs and pushed down the hose in a single motion, and I stepped out of them one at a time. Still on one knee behind me, he hooked the tips of his fingers into the waistband of my panties, and pulled down, slowly. I rolled my hips slightly to aid their slow descent, and wantonly spread my legs to let the small patch between my legs pull away from the damp, fragrant core of my body. I watched in the mirror as he crouched behind me and let me step out of them, one foot at a time. My mouth was open, panting, my heat spiking at the highly sensual vision unfolding in the mirror.

He stayed on his knees behind me and gently kissed my cheeks as he held my hips. I whimpered as I stared at our reflection, watched him reverently kissing my nether cheeks, then nuzzling there. I quivered, and wondered how long my legs would hold me up.

I watched his hand stray around to my front, to curl in a warm clasp around my inner thigh, then slide upward until he was pressed intimately against my swollen labia. My body twitched and rocked when he touched me, rocking my hips to slide my swollen lower lips against his hand.

Oh yes, he knew me so well! Caught between his lips, tongue, and gentle teeth behind me on my ass, and his thumb brushing against the swollen nub of my clitoris, I was barely able to stand. "Sam," I pleaded under my breath. "Sam!" I couldn't have said coherently what I wanted at that moment, but he knew. He had brought me to this point of nearly insane lust just as he had intended to do when he first brought me before this mirror.

I tipped my hips forward, spreading my legs slightly, seeking to press more tightly against his thumb. As if he had been waiting for the moment, he slid his middle finger between my swollen labia into the wetness of my center. My groan measured the depth of his penetration. I tightened around him, feeling my wetness flow. The teasing had driven me to the edge, and his long finger deep in me while his thumb nudged my clit sent me over the edge. I trembled and clenched hard, surprising him I think, it was so sudden. He pinned me between his face against my nether cheeks and his finger thrusting into my pulsing tunnel.

For long moments I hung, suspended in time, quaking. When I finally slid down the heights, I was trembling. I managed to focus my eyes again and the vision in the mirror of his finger still buried so intimately in me sent another little quiver zinging through me. I started to wobble, my muscles now useless.

"Sam," I croaked, and tried again. "Sam, I--." I swallowed hard, trying to regroup a little. "Sam, I need to sit down, please."

I felt his body move up mine in back, his hands moving to reassuringly clasp me around the waist. He moved around in front of me, kissed my trembling lips, and hugged me lightly.

"Just hang on one second. Stand here," he insisted low with a loving kiss, and let me go. I swayed as I watched him go quickly to the mirror, and turn it 45 degrees, then quickly come back to me.

I felt my skin rise with goose bumps as I felt the slight chill of moving air on my naked skin, and belatedly realized he was still dressed. "No fair," I chided him weakly as he led me across the room. "You're overdressed."

He stopped for a moment and grinned at me. He stripped with a speed quite remarkable. My half-lidded, lust fogged eyes watched with desire. A pleased grin spread across my face as his body betrayed him as equally aroused.

He dropped into the overstuffed chair beside us and held his arms out to me. I smiled softly and started to curl into his lap, but he shook his head and gently repositioned me, my back cradled against his chest again. His arms curled around me, and he gently pressed my legs to drape outside of his. Then he cupped his hand over my mons, making me draw a quick deep breath. I relaxed against him, my hands resting gently on his forearms as he touched me freely with the lack of restriction our position afforded.

"Look," he whispered in my ear again from nearly beneath me as his body cushioned mine. My eyes had drifted shut in a sexual haze. Prying them slowly open, I glanced about to see what he was talking about.

We were reflected again. He had turned the mirror to capture the reflection of us in the chair, of his body beneath mine, his hands possessive on me. I watched as he spread his legs, carrying mine with them. Shyly, I tried to keep them closed, but he would have none of that. "Baby, let me. Let me see you," he breathed in my ear. "You look so beautiful, so radiant... so sensual. I just can't get enough of you..." He kissed my neck again, and spread his legs wider.

I could barely breathe, seeing the demandingly sexual vision in the mirror. His legs held mine spread wide. His cock rose between us, the head swollen and beaded with fluid at the tip. Just above that was the dark coral of my sex, wet and flowered open for him. I whimpered as I watched his fingertips reach for me from both sides, gently spreading the lips farther apart. He thrust softly beneath me, sliding the shaft of his cock against me, in the fluids leaking from us.

I reached between our legs and in one fluid motion, pressed the head of his cock into me, arching my back to impale myself on him.

In one breath, we both groaned deeply. He drove up deeper into me. The position made it impossible for him to get in very far, but the feel of his helmeted cock moving just inside the lips of my pussy made my body vibrate and left me twitching. I watched the vision in the mirror as the end of his cock slid in and out of me; my labia alternately grasped shamelessly as he slid wetly out of me, and curled inward and kissed his shaft tighter as he pressed into me. Sam watched from behind my body. I could feel the lusty tension in his body that equaled mine. His eyes glittered with passion.

"Oh baby, you feel so good," his guttural growl sent wonderful shivers dancing over my nerves. "We look so good."

We rocked together, animal in our want. When the violence of our movements dislodged him from my slippery tunnel, I cupped my fingers around us, and directed his cock back into my clenching pussy. We were covered with our juices, the smell of our lust adding to the atmosphere in the room.

However, the awkward position frustrated us, too. Our hunger grew and I wanted him deep in me. Penetratingly deep in me, filling me completely. I wanted to feel nothing but him spreading me wide and driving into my center. We were getting wilder in our movements, our primitive minds taking over, and again he popped free from me in a particularly animalistic move.

"Wait," I panted, trying to still him. "Wait." He stilled slightly, thinking I needed him to hold still a moment to re-connect us. "I want you in me. Filling me. I want you in my ass," I growled, adjusting our bodies, moving backwards slightly.

Sam said nothing, but I felt the instant change in his body, an increase in his hunger, if that was possible.

Panting, uncoordinated by my lust, as he held me sitting lightly on his belly, I reached for the tube of lube we had thankfully left on the bedside stand. I clumsily stroked his rock hard shaft with my hand as I tried to uncap the tube with the other. From behind me Sam's eyes watched in the mirror. I got it open and squeezed a fat glistening ribbon onto his purpled head. I felt him twitch in my fist as the cool lube touched him, but somehow it felt like he swelled even more. I spread it clumsily, too hungry and panting to be delicate about it, and raised myself over him, pressing his erection back further. I shuddered as I gasped, feeling the slippery head of his cock press between my cheeks. Sliding him into that intimate crevice. I wiggled, settling on him, feeling the head of his cock press deeper until it was against my tight pucker.

I was an animal. I wanted more. I kept myself pressed against him, feeling the head of his cock press insistently against my sphincter, demanding entrance. Carefully, I bent my knees and tucked my feet on the chair next to his hips. Realizing what I was doing, Sam cupped my ass with his hands and balanced me, still watching in the mirror, breathing shallowly. My body was now suspended above his, perched on the up-raised shaft of his cock.

His hands spread my cheeks slightly. I felt my sphincter try to tighten and then relax slightly. Then more, against the relentless press of Sam's cock. I lowered my body onto him, gasping, whimpering, and panting. We watched in the mirror as I pressed deeper.

His cockhead popped in suddenly. I wanted to cry out; the sensation was so intense and pure. I felt myself clenching on him hard, heard him groaning. I pressed down, again watching in the mirror, watching his shaft slide deeper into me. The vision of his cock filling me pushed my sensations to heights I had not known. I wanted to scream, to claw at things, to somehow explode! I pushed down harder until the curly hairs at the base of his cock were flattened between us, his hands caught between us.

"Fuck me!" I growled, any dignified veneer gone. I writhed on him, goading him, watching his balls tighten in the mirror. Sam bucked under me, answering my primitive call. He drove into me hard and I reveled in it. He pulled back, and in the mirror for just a moment, I saw my tender tissues pucker out, kissing the length of him, before he savagely drove deep into me again. I threw my head back and cried out, not with pain, but an equally savage pleasure. I deliberately tightened on him and he answered with more pounding thrusts, lifting him and me off the chair.

"Fill me," I demanded of him through the mirror, my eyes locked on his for a moment. "Fill me with your cum. I want to feel you cum in my ass. Feel you swell in me -" my words were deliberately goading. I was trembling on the edge of an orgasm I knew would leave me silently screaming. Sam bucked under me, filling me, rocking sideways to gather every tiny sensation possible.

He suddenly reached between us and rubbed my clit hard, spreading my juices on it, triggering me into a spasm that dimmed my vision. He felt me clench hard around him, almost painfully.  The breath being forced from my body with each spasm in a mantra of lust. He joined me, pushing up into my ass with every muscle, lifting us, pressing himself deep into me. I felt him spasm, felt his cock pump into me. It was as if I could feel every vein in his cock, feel the very blood pumping through it. Lights flashed behind my closed eyelids.

That kind of white, hot intensity burns wildly. When we fell back to earth, we were but trembling, insignificant humans. I let my feet slide back to the floor, my legs draped around his again. I sagged back against him and felt him recline back into the cradle of the overstuffed chair, his arms curling around me. I hugged his arms to me, feeling the trembling of my arms. His cock, softer now but not relaxed, was still buried in my ass.

We lay still for long minutes, unable to muster the energy to speak. The feeling of his cock, still tight in my sphincter, slowly softening, was incredibly erotic, and I was loath to let him go. I deliberately clenched my sphincter around him, and he groaned beneath me; I could feel it vibrate through his chest into my back. "Baby, you're going to kill me yet," he moaned, without the least sound of regret.

I turned my head with a soft, feline smile and he nuzzled me from beneath. Our breathing slowly became more functional, less desperate, as we recovered. A small movement of his hips and his cock popped from me, with a dismayed whimper from both of us. Carefully, gently, we repositioned so we were curled together in our chair, nuzzling. I pulled an afghan from the floor and over us. Nestled in his arms, I felt safe, sated.

Eventually, clear thoughts returned. "Thank you for my present," I said softly into his neck. "When I said I needed a mirror in my room, I just expected a wall mirror."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he replied, dropping a kiss to the top of my head.

"I’ll bet you never expected to have it be used this way," I giggled low, nudging him playfully.

"I most certainly did. I planned it for this. Why do you think it's mobile, rather than the much easier wall mirror?" he said evenly.

I raised up to stare at him openmouthed, blinking. Sam stared back at me with absolute conviction, the small smile on his face of a man who's had things turn out exactly the way he wanted. We stared at each other a moment, silently, me in disbelief. Had he really? I felt the grin start small in me, and spread to include my entire face. He grinned back at me, cheekily.

I dropped back into the comfortable cradle of his arms, nestled on his chest, head tucked under his chin. "I like the way you think," I said, with a smile in my voice.

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End