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The Looking Glass

My new house of delights
I finally moved into a place of my own at the ripe old age of twenty-nine. After three weeks of waiting for credit checks and approval of references for rental, I was able to shift all my things into my new home. Although just a semi-detached old-fashioned cottage with a small garden and minimal rooms, having lived in only one bedroom at my parent’s house for years, it felt like a mansion. I loved the wooden beams and bricks walls, the log burner and even the old floorboards that creaked with almost every step. It had character and charm and I was thrilled to receive the overdue freedom it gave me.

The lounge/dining room was long and rectangular with a huge mirror fitted into the wall and when I had looked round the property with the estate agent he had fixated on the mirror as a terrific feature of the house. The wooden frame around it protruded into the room giving it even more significance than just the vast size of the thing spanning nearly the height of the wall and about two meters across. I had loved the sense of space it created and whilst unmoveable, I managed to arrange my belongings around it in an attempt to both compliment and show it off to its best. By the end of my first week living there, I was delighted with the look I had created and my little cottage was already starting to feel like home.

Arriving home from work on that first Friday I immediately lit the fire. It was early February and it was cold so I headed upstairs to change into something more appropriate than the thin tunic I wore for my job at the Spa. Returning downstairs, I shut off all the doors to contain the heat, topped the fire up with coal and settled myself in front of the TV. I felt tired and achy and although it was still early evening, I found myself drifting off on the couch after a hard day’s work performing massages for others.

When I awoke a couple of hours later stiff and uncomfortable in a very warm room, I sat up and stretched out my aching muscles, really feeling like I could do with a massage myself! Allowing a few moments to wake up, I decided to try and ease my stiffness with self-massage and went over to my shelves to fetch a bottle of oil. As I walked back across the creaky floorboards, I paused in front of my enormous mirror. It had become far more significant in my life than I had ever thought it would be, stopping me in my tracks at the most unnecessary moments. The sheer size was just too difficult to ignore and I had begun checking my hair more often and changing my clothes when I didn’t need to.

On that particular occasion, I walked over to the mirror with my massage oil and after grabbing a cushion from the couch I sat on the floor before it. I piled my long blonde hair into a bun and wrapped a band around it to keep it in place out of the way of my shoulders. After tucking the wispy bits in, I pulled off my jumper and exposed myself to the mirror. I poured the thick oil into my hands and started to spread it over my shoulders, revelling in the touch – even if it was my own – and I instantly felt myself relax. I massaged my shoulders and my neck, tipping my head to gain access, I kneaded, rolled and manipulated my muscles until the tension seeped out of me. So completely lost in the feeling, I tipped more massage oil into my hands and smoothed it over my chest, watching myself in the mirror as I made each and every movement.

I was mesmerised as I stared at my reflection, slowly spreading the oil downward over my tits, using both hands to cover my body with the silky liquid. Applying the oil generously until my upper body was glistening and my skin slick, inevitably I found my hands travelling back up to my tits. They looked spectacular in the mirror, so full and shiny, slippery between my fingers. I had never taken this much time to look at myself and I was extremely aroused by what I saw. I rubbed small circles with my thumbs over my nipples, eagerly watching them grow as their sensitivity heightened with every touch.

Pulling myself up onto my knees and edging closer towards the mirror, I felt the overwhelming urge to touch myself. I fondled my tits for my own viewing pleasure, massaging and squeezing them, needing to see how much abuse they could take and it only served to make me more horny. Taking a tight grip on each nipple, I fiddled and pulled, rapidly getting more urgent and I began to shake my tits hard. My nipples were so slippery that my fingers kept sliding off and dropping my heavy breasts back against me and I became rougher and more determined with each movement.

Urgently, I slipped off my trousers and socks and sat completely naked in front of my mirror. Tilting my body away from my reflection, I poured the oil over my arse and rubbed it in with my hand, never taking my eyes away from the mirror as I parted my arse cheeks and spread the liquid along my crack. I squirmed as I tormented myself, my eyes locked on my reflection and I grabbed and wobbled my butt more vigorously.

It all became too much and I rolled over so that I was on all fours, arching my back and staring at my own body, needing to see what I was doing to myself. My body looked so good, fit and slender with ample tits and arse and I was just about ready to pleasure myself completely. I pinched a nipple with one hand, whilst the other hand slid between my legs. My pussy ached to be touched and when my fingers finally found their way, the electricity jolted through me. The oil blended with my juices and I thrust my pelvis and rubbed myself against my hand, dipping two fingers into me.

Groaning with desire as I filled my own pussy, still squeezing and pulling at my nipple whilst supporting my body on my elbows. I shifted my knees, twisting so that I could watch my fingers move in and out of my cunt, my reflected self every bit as turned on as I was. It tipped me over the edge and in frenzy I sat back down, parting my legs for a full view of my open pussy. I plunged my fingers back into myself, using my other hand to alternate between fondling my glistening tits and maniacally rubbing my clit. I came so suddenly and so severely that it almost knocked me back. The build up had been amazing but the climax was incredible and I held my fingers hard inside myself as I shuddered and shook, my orgasm prolonged as I vibrated my hand, all the while watching and enjoying seeing myself in the mirror. After that, my mirror became a constant arousal for me. Sometimes I felt guilty and a little embarrassed for watching myself masturbate but more often than not I would succumb to the urge.

One morning, a few weeks later it was the beginning of March and the air temperature was increasing. Craving a cup of tea and hoping the milkman had been I nipped outside in my dressing gown to find the freshly filled bottles. On my way back I heard a voice call out from the neighbouring garden.

"Hello there!" said the man over the fence.

Instinctively I pulled my gown tighter around myself and stepped towards the waist high barrier between us. "Hi." I answered politely.

"So you’re my new neighbour then?" He stuck his hand towards me and introduced himself. "Nigel Clement. It’s nice to meet you."

"Leanne Wainwright." I responded shaking his large hand. He looked a respectable chap in his early fifties, glasses, well dressed but with an unremarkable appearance.

"How are you finding it?" He asked unsmiling, an almost serious note to the way he spoke.

"Great, I love the cottage. It’s just so nice to be in the countryside." I answered honestly.

"Indeed." He nodded glancing down at my attire.

I blushed at my laziness to get dressed and stuttered an excuse. "I’m sorry to meet you like this, I was just popping out to get my milk. Perhaps you would like a cup of tea in half an hour or so?"

"That would be splendid. I would like to talk to you about the property anyway. No rush." He turned away and started walking back into his own cottage. "See you soon." And before I could ask him what he meant, he had disappeared.

I went inside my door and hastily got changed in my bedroom. Returning downstairs, I checked my look in the mirror, a rapid pulsing in my pussy reminding me of everything it had already seen but I ignored my urges and made sure I looked more presentable for when Nigel came round. I wondered why he implied that we needed to talk about the property and for a moment I became paranoid that maybe he wanted my TV played more quietly or perhaps I groaned too loudly during orgasm! I blushed at the thought and figured I would find out soon enough and set about boiling the kettle.

Nigel knocked on my door almost precisely half an hour after I had first met him and I greeted him with a smile. Right away he seemed a rather stern bloke, maybe a bit serious and prudish and it made me think about all the times I had masturbated on the other side of his wall. It was just our two houses connected for a few hundred yards and I really wanted to have a good relationship with my neighbour, if only for an easy life.

"Come on in Nigel." I said and he thanked me as he vigorously wiped his feet on my doormat. "Would you like tea or coffee?" I asked ushering him into the lounge.

"Black coffee please, no sugar."

"Great. Make yourself at home, I won’t be a minute." I hastily made our hot drinks and felt annoyed with myself at the slight nerves that were jostling around my tummy.

Nigel rose to his feet as I walked back into the lounge and took his drink out of my hands. Unfortunately I only had the one couch so we had to sit side by side during what felt like a formal meeting.

"Now, before we start, I just need to find out if you know who I am." Nigel spoke with arrogance and for a second I didn’t understand what he meant. Was he a celebrity of some kind? Had I failed to recognise him? The blank expression on my face must have been apparent as he continued. "Don’t worry dear, I am not the Prime Minister or anything!" He laughed and nudged my shoulder. "But I am assuming from the way you’re looking at me that the estate agent didn’t tell you. Unfortunate really, as I did ask them to inform any potential tenants! I’m your landlord."

I was shocked and a little embarrassed. "Oh." I muttered confused. "I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I mean nobody said anything!"

"Oh dear, you poor thing." Nigel looked concerned and for the first time I realised his own awkwardness in the situation. "I do hope I haven’t embarrassed you and I genuinely hope it won’t be a problem. I completely understand the need for privacy and have no intention of causing you any concern."

"No, it’s not a problem at all." I answered warily. "Of course it would have been nice to have been forewarned but I cannot say that it would have changed the fact that I wanted to live here. It’s a terrific little cottage and I have fallen in love with it!"

"Oh that’s fantastic. I did rather hope you would say that. I really wanted a tenant who would love the building as much as I do myself. Used to be one house you know?"

"Really?" I answered with more enthusiasm than perhaps I felt.

"Oh yes. I grew up here as a young boy and when my father passed a few years ago I inherited the property. It was always my intention to live here but after a month or two, I realised that it was just too big for me alone and so I got the builders in to split it. Sorry to break the news, but I got the bigger half!"

Nigel’s joke made him chuckle and I politely returned the favour.

"I don’t blame you! I would do exactly the same." I answered.

He stayed for about ten minutes, the exact time it took to drink his coffee and then stood himself up.

"Well I mustn’t keep you Miss." He was a funny old sod but I was rapidly growing fond of him already. "You probably have lots of things that you need to be doing."

I followed him back through to the kitchen to see him out.

"It’s been really lovely meeting you Nigel. I should have introduced myself sooner but time just seems to go, you know?"

"You don’t need to tell me that. What am I, fifty something and still living alone!" He laughed a deep laugh and placed his hand on my shoulder bringing himself face to face with me. "Please feel comfortable in this little house. Do not worry about loud music or any such thing. I might be an old stick but I do remember what it was to be young! And now that we are introduced as landlord and tenant, just remember that any problem you have don’t hesitate to pop over."

I smiled and thanked him, genuinely pleased that we had met and I was surprised by the revelation that I actually liked him. I returned to my cottage with a new sense of contentment and deciding to get cleaned up, I headed straight for the shower. It was on this very morning I found out that if I left the bathroom door open and didn’t pull the shower curtain then I would have a perfect view of myself showering in my huge mirror! Instantly a surge of excitement went through me and with it being the weekend I also realised that I had nowhere I needed to be. My arousal and my increasing urge for masturbation surprised me but then I had never lived on my own before and my new found freedom was a real eye opener.

Within minutes of soaking my body, I couldn’t resist pulling the shower curtain back. My reflection stared back at me as I filled a sponge with shower gel and soaped my tits. I couldn’t deny that I looked good wet, the steam of the hot water surrounding me as though it was somehow mystical. I leant back against the tiled wall and spread the soap all over me as the water washed it away almost instantly, the bubbles cascading down my tits, towards my pussy until I was soap-free once more.

My face felt flushed as I continued the process, completely engrossed in watching myself in my mirror. Flashes of my conversation with Nigel went through my mind and I thought about the lonely old man who lived next door. Unintentionally inspired, I took hold of the showerhead and sprayed the water over my hair and shoulders, continuously catching glimpses of my soaking body, turning round to show myself everything. I imagined Nigel seeing what I could see and revelling in the body of a young woman for the first time in years!

I moved the showerhead towards my arse, washing myself completely but the jets pumped onto my pussy through my legs. That twinge was all it took and I faced my reflection once more, my back pressed against the cool shower wall as I aimed the showerhead straight at my clit. My head fell back as the relief flooded through me. My pussy was pulsing, so desperate to be touched and I pressed hard against myself with the showerhead, squeezing my thighs around it for added pressure. The water purred against my pussy as my hand rubbed it up and down, stimulating myself towards climax.

Through the steam, I watched myself in the mirror and began moving my hand more rapidly. With the jets pumping, I roughly squeezed my wet tits with my free hand, slapping them and watching them wobble, feeling the weight on my chest. It didn’t take me long to orgasm like that but the intensity surprised me and the heat of the water made the blood rush to my head. I had to take a moment to sit on the edge of the bathtub as I shook and trembled, recovering from the experience.

As the months went on, my relationship with my mirror only seemed to get stronger and true to his word, I had not seen much of Nigel. Occasionally I would see him outside weeding his garden and we would have a chinwag but he never disturbed or imposed himself on me, or so I thought. One day when I had forgotten to put my empty bottles outside for the milkman to replace, I decided to pop over to see if I could borrow some from Nigel. I sneaked through the gate that divided our gardens as though I was doing something wrong and knocked on his door. I waited a couple of minutes and then tried the door handle.

Surprised to find it unlocked and desperate for a cup of tea I pushed it open and called out his name. I could see his nicely refilled bottles of milk still sat on the side and contemplated taking one and writing a note to say I would replace it later. I took another step and then was startled as the door pulled closed behind me making a loud crash. I called out for Nigel again but with the lack of response, my conscience kicked in and I was just about to leave when for some reason a large wall hanging in his dining room caught my eye and pulled me towards it.

I didn’t realise right away why it had struck me as odd but the sheer size of the thing sent alarm bells ringing in my head. My brain did the working out as it subconsciously realised what was going on. Tentatively I moved closer until I was standing directly in front of it, afraid to find out, but desperate to know. I grabbed the corner with my hand and pulled it aside. There before my eyes was the most exposing view of my lounge that I could ever have imagined! I blinked, shocked and completely stunned as the reality sank in.

A one way mirror, one way window and I flushed head to foot at the thought of myself parading, masturbating and performing for Nigel’s delight. Glancing around I spotted the armchair that was strategically placed to directly face my flat and an electricity bolt shocked through me. I quickly ran out of his house and shut myself in my bedroom where he couldn’t see me and I sprawled face down on my double bed. What was going on here? Had he been watching me all this time? Was it a building fault or was it intentional? Nigel Clement had seemed the perfect landlord, reserved, polite and almost gentle and yet he must have installed this one way mirror with intention.

My heart was thumping inside my chest as the revelation hit home. I tried desperately to digest what I had just found out and yet without warning, a smile crept upon my lips as I remembered all the things that I had done in front of that mirror. I rolled over onto my back and giggled slightly with the most exquisite feeling that I had been doing them for Nigel too - something I admit that I had imagined on several occasions. Not because I fancied him and not because I wanted to be with him, but simply because it made me incredibly horny to think that my body was turning him on. My mind was thinking it all over, my pulse still racing and unwittingly I decided to keep his little secret. In fact, I now had a secret of my own and he never needed to find out that I knew about his window and that way it could be a thing for us both to enjoy. The looking glass.

More powerful than before came the urge to touch myself and yet more reservedly, I rubbed my hand against my throbbing pussy. I could feel the wetness through my thin trousers and I knew that I would be performing for Nigel again very soon. I leapt off the bed and looked out the window, waiting with anticipation for him to return. Within minutes, I saw him walking down the road with a newspaper tucked under his arm and I raced downstairs ready to perform for him.

With a quick idea, I grabbed some window cleaner and a cloth and set to work cleaning the mirror when I heard his front door slam shut. I wondered if he would take the wall hanging off right away, imagined him desperate to watch me some more and I strained my ears to listen. I continued to clean the mirror when I heard something on the other side of the wall, possibly, hopefully the wall hanging had come down, followed by the sound of a chair shifting on the wooden floor. He was getting into position.

My heart thumping in the back of my throat, I deliberately arched my chest towards the mirror as I scrubbed at it, and my nipples began protruding through my vest top as they brushed the surface. I pushed harder moving upwards, forcing my vest to lower until a nipple popped out and I pressed it against the cool glass. I gasped at the chill and watched my nipple harden, imagining how it looked to Nigel through his looking glass and I felt stimulated to the very core. Unable to wait, I stripped off my clothes and let my hair out so that it fell over my shoulders, taking a moment to admire my naked body and how Nigel would see me.

I spun myself round for him, arched my back and stuck my arse out giving it a spank and watching it redden before straightening up and facing him again. My right nipple was so hard, still alert from the cool glass of the mirror and without further ado, I stepped closer and allowed it to press against it once more. My left nipple tingled in anticipation and unable to resist the temptation I rubbed both my nipples against the glass, the friction and the chill stimulating them completely. Up and down, side to side, I moved just my nipples across the mirror hoping desperately that Nigel was watching. I pressed them harder against the glass, squashing them and pushing my whole body onto the cold shiny surface, so desperate to give Nigel the closest look he could ever get. The sensation was amazing and I knew I was close to cumming.

Feeling a sudden urge for Nigel to imagine fucking me, I realised I needed him to see me using something more than just my fingers to satisfy myself. I looked around the room and spotted a deodorant can on the side, which I hastily grabbed before returning to the mirror. Using one hand to spread the juices from my cunt, I used the other to plunge the can straight into my pussy. I gasped and fell against the mirror, my tits squashed, nipples rubbing so hard on the surface that they felt raw as I fucked myself with the can.

I thought of Nigel on the other side, watching as I shoved the can in and out of my tight little cunt, so close he could practically touch me and it all became too much. Rapidly moving the can I continuously rubbed my tits against the mirror, desperate to make myself climax right in front of my neighbour and landlord. I came so quickly and so suddenly with my face pushed against my reflected self, watching the steam fog up the glass as I panted and convulsed into it, holding the can hard inside my pussy.

Could Nigel see me like this? Was he watching as I climaxed? As my spasms decreased and my pulse settled, I pulled the can out of myself, my pussy clenching as though desperate to keep it inside. I stepped back from the mirror and brought the can up to my lips submerging it deep within my mouth and tasting myself. I did this for Nigel and looked at my reflection as I licked it clean, imagining him so vividly on the other side. My mirror and his looking glass became one and the same and it felt so erotic and sensual to be able to share it with him.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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Comments(11)

SirSpanksAlot80
Posted 23 Mar 2012 17:36
VERY HOT!!!!! I would spend every waking minute at that window just to see what would happen next Well written & detailed story. KEEP up the GREAT work
NewGuy2012
Posted 02 Mar 2012 15:43
Another excellent story.
Ianthomas
Posted 26 Feb 2012 02:29
nicely evocative tale and really well written - lots to reflect happily upon! thanks!
SylviaK
Posted 07 Feb 2012 01:22
Erotic. Descriptive and yet also emotionally expressive. Loved it!
fisherman6205
Posted 01 Feb 2012 10:19
Hot story... Nice work!!
JbStone
Posted 01 Feb 2012 06:38
An amazing story. I very creative and very erotic story. This certainly could have a sequel.
carmen_has36
Posted 01 Feb 2012 05:59
very nice build-up to an unexpected twist! Nicely written.
tnblue
Posted 01 Feb 2012 05:56
great story
boat123
Posted 01 Feb 2012 03:16
Lovely story - very different and well-written!
nazhinaz
Posted 01 Feb 2012 02:09
Nice story.5
Malaka
Posted 01 Feb 2012 01:01
Nice work au-naturale - loved the story and especially liked the mirror twist! Nice to see you writing again too I might add... I really do like the sound of that cottage eh..... xxx Malaka
 

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