Reflection
Mirror, mirror on the floor, who's a dirty little whore?
The lingerie magnifies everything. The ache. The need. The power. Suspense skitters beneath my skin as I dance to the pulverizing beat that swamps my bedroom, eyes cast downward, fixed on myself the whole time. Sensational. My reflection smiles with me, muted taps of my toe ring against the glass through sheer hold-ups sweeping toned calves to my slender thighs. The dark bands snapped around them are tantalising, mere whi...