He
stopped and Flipp found herself confronted with multiple images of her and Rocky, stretching away into infinity, above and below and beside—a kaleidoscope of tearaway lovers.
“God, you’re hot,” she found herself saying, her eyes feasting on his sinewy arms, and hips tightly packed into their leather casing.
“I’m glad you think so,” he said, pulling her in front of him so that his upper chest and shoulders surrounded her head, his chin resting on the feathery crown of her hair. “What about this?” He cupped her breasts, braless in their flimsy cotton bodice, squeezing them gently together. “Is this hot?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, transfixed by his large hands on her, watching them at work.
He caressed her bare shoulder with his lips, but all the while his eyes were lifted to the mirror, watching Flipp’s expression of pained pleasure, enjoying the slow loss of control he was inducing.
“Mmm. And this?”
He lifted the hem of her skirt, slowly, revealing the upper slopes of Flipp’s soft white thighs above the stripy knee socks, then the knickers with their pink-and-green leopard print. Flipp saw herself, helpless with lust in his hands, and whimpered.
“I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?” Two thumbs hooked themselves at the sides of the panties and began to ease them down over small hips—one of them tattooed with a pair of dice—over the plucked triangle of her mons, revealing the pert sweet lips of her pussy, already sticky with the residue of one orgasm and the anticipation of another.
“Let’s just keep those here.” Rocky’s low hypnotic voice in her ear kept the spell wound tightly around her, holding her in place while he patted the knickers into position at midthigh, then pushed his hard leather bulge into the soft yielding flesh of her bottom.
“Oh,” she moaned, watching a hand delve into the cleft at the top of her legs, feeling an eager cock part the other, hidden cleft. “Oh God.” The leather was so warm and smooth at her rear, sticking slightly to her heated flesh. She watched a finger push and relax, push and relax, finding herself almost surprised that the actions of the reflections opposite resulted in sensation within her own body. She moved her legs farther apart, her calves beginning to tremble. Rocky’s free hand loosened her shoulder straps, revealing the nude breasts, fiddling with the nipples. “Oh God, Rocky, please.”
“Please?” His voice was thick, as if he’d swallowed a bottle of treacle.
“Want you so much…want you to fuck me…please…”
“Want to watch?”
“Oh…yes.”
“Kinky little girl gets kinkier every day. Get on your knees, sweetheart.”
Flipp fell down onto her knees on the rubberised matting of the booth, obeying Rocky’s silent indication with the steel tip of his biker boot that she should move around to show her profile in the mirror. On all fours on the worn old floor, she looked sideways at herself, at her skirts gathered over her waist so that her pale bottom was thrust out, hanging above the naked thighs and the stripy stretchy wool that protected her knees. She could only see Rocky’s legs and his booted feet until he crouched behind her, placing hands on her hips, lining her up for his devilish purpose. His face in profile looked almost noble—a high brow crested by that dark hair, the aquiline nose, the chiselled features. Somebody should sculpt him. Only the unmistakable gleam of lust in his eye distinguished him from some plaster god on a plinth. That and the leather.
She saw his hand dip down to his fly, unbuttoning rapidly, then she saw the waistband of his jeans slacken and begin to uncover, inch by inch, the firm flesh of his backside.
The curve of it complemented her smaller version so perfectly that Flipp was momentarily transfixed, seeing what a fine erotic photograph it would make, until she was distracted from aesthetic pursuits by the unveiling of his hard, upthrust cock. It sprang out, ready for action, coming to get her, and she raised her bum invitingly, wiggling it, enjoying the wanton effect in the mirror.
The swollen head connected to her body, visible for a brief moment before it disappeared from view and made its brazen way inside her. Flipp held her breath, revelling in the sight of that long, thick shaft getting shorter and shorter until finally Rocky’s belly covered her bottom and they were one beast, two-headed, another perfect photo opportunity of a reflection. The first few strokes were slow, gorging on the sensual delight provided by this marriage of exhibitionism and voyeurism. Both of them liked watching; both of them sighed with deep satisfaction each time the cock length came back into view and then plunged out of view again.
“Look at it.” Rocky hardly needed to voice the command. “Look at yourself, full of cock, getting fucked. You like watching, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I wish we could film ourselves.”
“Oh, good idea. Save that for another time, eh? Oh, yes, you’re tight. Keep that arse in the air and take it, yes, again. You were made for this.”
So were you, she thought, but then a sound from the entrance, alarmingly close to the noise of a cone being shifted to one side, accompanied by the gruff clearing of a throat, urged them to speed up.
Rocky began to slam and their reflections to blur, Flipp squirming and squealing in his unyielding grip, while a voice echoed, “Oi? Anyone in there? Who shut the entrance? Vern, is that you?”
“Yeah,” gasped Rocky, building his speed until the sweat poured off him and Flipp’s bum slid damply against his flat stomach. Flipp felt fit to burst, sure she would ache all over but not caring much in the face of the sensation growing ever huger inside her pussy.
“What’s up, Vern? There a problem in there?”
“Mirror…broken…” panted Rocky. “Take it, you hot little bitch, take my cock all the way.” This last whispered loudly into Flipp’s ear, making her mewl.
Rocky’s pace was blistering now and Flipp began to fear for his cock even more than she feared discovery in flagrante by the disembodied voice.
“Which one? Have you called the glazier?”