I’ve always had a thing for mirrors. Not just any mirrors—the kind that let me see every curve, every line, every detail of my body as I move. There’s something intoxicating about watching myself, about knowing I’m the one in control, the one creating every moan, every shiver, every gasp. It’s like I’m both the performer and the audience, and the show is always for me. But sometimes, just sometimes, I let someone else watch. Like Jed. Jed was different. He didn’t just want to fuck me; he wanted to see me, to understand what made me tick. And when I told him about my mirror habit, his eyes lit up like I’d just handed him the key to a treasure chest.
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the kind where the sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of my bedroom, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. I’d just finished a batch of chocolate chip cookies—my specialty—and the scent of butter and sugar still lingered in the air. Jed was lounging on my bed, flipping through a book of poetry I’d left on the nightstand. He looked up when I walked in, his brow furrowed in concentration, but his gaze softened when he saw me.
“What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward the handheld magnifying mirror I was holding. It was an old thing, the kind you’d find in a vintage shop, with a brass handle and a circular glass that magnified everything to three times its size.
I smirked, setting it down on the dresser. “You’ll see.”
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Jed was good like that—patient, curious, but never pushy. I crossed the room to the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. The mirror was old, its edges framed in carved wood, and it reflected the room back at me in perfect detail. I could see Jed watching me from the bed, his book forgotten in his lap.
“You sure you want to do this?” I asked, turning to face him. My heart was pounding, not from nervousness, but from anticipation. There was something thrilling about knowing he was about to see me like this, raw and unfiltered.
He sat up, leaning against the headboard. “I’m sure,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I want to see you, Mary Ellen. All of you.”
I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then I turned back to the mirror, my reflection staring back at me. My red hair fell in loose waves down my back, and my pale skin seemed to glow in the soft light. I was wearing one of his button-down shirts, the tails hanging just past my thighs, and nothing else. I could feel his eyes on me, heavy and warm, as I reached behind me to unbutton the shirt.
One by one, the buttons came undone, the fabric falling open to reveal my bare breasts. I watched in the mirror as Jed’s gaze flicked down, his throat working as he swallowed. I smiled, a slow, knowing curve of my lips, and let the shirt slide off my shoulders, pooling at my feet.
“Fuck,” he murmured, and I felt a rush of heat at the sound of it.
I stepped closer to the mirror, my nipples tightening as the cool air touched them. I reached for the magnifying mirror, holding it up to get a closer look. The glass magnified everything—the delicate veins beneath my skin, the faint freckles scattered across my chest, the way my nipples pebbled into tight buds. I traced a finger over one, watching the movement in the mirror, and let out a soft sigh.
“You like that, don’t you?” Jed’s voice was rough, and I glanced over my shoulder to see him biting his lip, his eyes glued to my reflection.
“Mmm,” I hummed, not bothering to deny it. “You’re watching, aren’t you?”
He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed again. “Every fucking detail.”
I smirked, turning back to the mirror. I lowered the magnifying glass, letting it hover just above my stomach, and slowly trailed it downward. My breath quickened as I watched my hand move, the magnified view giving me a close-up of my skin, the faint dusting of red hair at my core. I parted my legs slightly, just enough to give us both a better view, and felt a rush of wetness between my thighs.
“Jesus, Mary Ellen,” Jed groaned, and I glanced back to see him shifting on the bed, his hand resting on the bulge in his jeans.
I bit my lip, my heart racing. “You like what you see?”
“Fuck yes,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But I want to see more.”
I smiled, a wicked little twist of my lips, and lowered the magnifying mirror further. The glass caught the light, casting a distorted reflection of my pussy back at me. I was already glistening, my lips swollen and parted, and I could see the faint flutter of my clit as my breath quickened. I pressed the edge of the mirror against my inner thigh, watching the way the cool glass made my skin goose bump, and then trailed it upward, closer to the heat.
“Oh God,” Jed whispered, and I glanced back to see him unbuttoning his jeans, his cock already straining against the fabric.
I smirked, turning back to the mirror. “You want to touch yourself, Jed?”
He hesitated, then nodded, his cheeks flushing. “If you do.”
“I do,” I said, my voice steady. “But I want to watch you. I want to see you watching me.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. His hand slipped into his jeans, wrapping around his cock, and he began to stroke slowly, his eyes never leaving my reflection. I watched him watch me, the sight of his hand moving over his thick length sending a jolt of heat through me. I was dripping now, my clit throbbing, and I pressed the magnifying mirror closer, letting it hover just above my pussy.
I reached down with my free hand, parting my lips to expose my clit. The magnified view was obscene—my flesh swollen and pink, the hood pulled back to reveal the sensitive bud beneath. I circled it with my fingertip, watching the movement in the mirror, and let out a soft moan.
“Fuck, Mary Ellen,” Jed groaned, his strokes speeding up. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I smiled, my eyes fluttering closed for a moment as I pressed a little harder, my breath hitching. “Keep watching,” I murmured. “I want you to see everything.”
I lowered the magnifying mirror further, pressing it against my clit, the cool glass sending shivers through me. I could see every detail—the way my lips stretched around the edge, the glistening wetness coating the glass, the faint pulse of my clit as I rubbed against it. I added a second finger, slipping it inside my dripping cunt, and moaned at the sensation.
“Oh fuck,” I breathed, my head falling back as I watched myself in the mirror. “Jed, I’m so close.”
“Me too,” he rasped, his hand moving faster now, his cock thick and flushed. “Come for me, Mary Ellen. Let me see you come.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I pressed harder against the magnifying mirror, my fingers moving faster inside me, and let out a sharp cry as my orgasm hit. My body shook, my muscles clenching around my fingers, and I watched it all in the mirror—my face flushed, my lips parted, my eyes squeezed shut as I rode the waves of pleasure. My juices coated the magnifying mirror, dripping down the glass, and I moaned at the sight, at the knowledge that Jed was watching it all.
“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his hand moving frantically now, his cock glistening with pre-come. “Mary Ellen, you’re—”
His words were cut off by a sharp cry as he came, his body arching off the bed, his cum spurting over his hand and chest. I watched him in the mirror, my own breath still ragged, as he shuddered through his release, his face contorted in pleasure.
When he finally collapsed back onto the bed, his chest heaving, I turned to face him, a satisfied smile on my lips. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
He grinned, wiping his hand on the bedsheet. “Best fucking show I’ve ever seen.”
I laughed, a soft, breathless sound, and walked over to the bed, my legs still a little shaky. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips, and tasted myself on his mouth—salty and sweet.
“Next time,” I murmured, pulling back slightly, “I’ll let you touch the mirror.”
His eyes darkened, and he reached up, tangling his hand in my hair. “Next time,” he agreed, his voice low and promising, “I’m going to fuck you while you watch yourself in it.”
I shivered at the thought, my core already aching for it. “Deal.”
And as I climbed onto the bed beside him, the mirror still reflecting the aftermath of our pleasure, I knew it wouldn’t be the last time. Not by a long shot.