Tap. Tap Tap.
I heard it but was trapped in that foggy, disorienting state between sleep and consciousness. A voice inside my head kept urging me to wake up even though my eyelids weighed heavily, fighting me. Finally, they fluttered open, and I strained to make out the outline of my bedroom in the darkness.
Tap. Tap.
There it was again –
that subtle rapping. I lay motionless, waiting, still struggling to clear my
brain fog. It sounded like something was pecking on glass. Suddenly, I
remembered the realtor warning my wife and me that old houses settled, made odd
creaks and other unexplained noises.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Lurching my neck, my
ears strained to discern the direction of the taps. Just like before, it
stopped again. My wife, Carolyn, stole my attention, shifting underneath the
covers beside me. I leaned over her and saw her eyes remained closed. Lucky her
… still enjoying her sleep.
Considerable time
passed with only Carolyn's soft snores filling the silence. The old grandfather
clock in the hallway chimed three times, reminding me of the lateness of the
hour. Thinking about the work waiting for me tomorrow, I closed my eyes,
deciding I'd solve the mystery of the taps in the morning.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Ugh, not again! My
hand shot to my head, twisting my hair in frustration. What was that irritating
noise? Oblivious, Carolyn rolled towards me, draping her arm across my bare
chest. So peaceful, she looked. I was jealous and was selfishly tempted to wake
her so I wouldn't be alone in my misery.
After more quiet time
passed, I convinced myself the noise had to be the wind swishing a tree limb
against the window. Even though my reasoning seemed sound, an unsettling
feeling plagued me. I pulled my wife in tighter against me hoping her body heat
would coax me back to sleep.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Damn it! I angrily
rubbed the sleep from my eyes and decided to investigate. Careful not to wake
Carolyn, I gingerly pulled the covers back and slipped out of bed, then padded
across the room. Peeling back the heavy drapes, I peered out the window.
Nothing. There was no tree limb hanging close enough to scrape the window either.
Lightning flashed in the distance, but the rain hadn't reached us yet. What was
making that sound?
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
I snapped my head
around, catching the elusive sound's direction this time. It seemed to emanate
from the hallway.
Something made me
grab my robe and cover up my naked body before venturing outside the bedroom.
One glance at my wife assured me she was still fast asleep.
I crept into the
hallway, cursing the squeaking floorboards below my feet. The taps had ceased
again, but somehow, I knew they'd return.
Darkness closed
around me in the windowless hallway as I stood like a statue … waiting … and
waiting … and waiting.
Tap. Tap.
There! The sound came
from the antique mirror hanging on the wall. It was one of the many pieces left
in the house from the previous owner. I moved towards it and slid my hand
behind it, running my palm along the tattered wallpaper. Nothing. I'm not sure
what I thought I'd feel. Carefully, I lifted the bottom of the mirror away from
the wall, attempting to peer behind it, but it was too dark to see anything.
Tap. Tap.
Abruptly releasing
the mirror, it thumped against the wall. I looked in the mirror. What–
A woman's face stared
back at me!
In an instant, I
snapped my head around to look over my shoulder. There was no one there. I got
whiplash snapping my head back towards the mirror. She was gone! But, I had
seen her… and she was breathtaking!
I'm not sure how long
I stood trembling in the hallway. No more taps were heard. No face reappeared
in the mirror. Eventually, exhausted and feeling foolish, I returned to my
bedroom, seeking the comfort of my warm bed and my loving wife. The
translucent, stunning face in the mirror, however, haunted my dreams during
what was left of the night.
~ooOoo~
In the morning,
Carolyn set my coffee down in front of me on the kitchen table, waking me from
my thoughts. "Are you alright, Michael?"
"Yeah, sure.
Just tired." But I wasn't alright.
The next few days
were a blur. I lost count of how many times I walked past that old mirror. My
wife and I continued our work restoring this house we had bought, but when
Carolyn's mouth moved, I heard nothing. My mind was consumed with thoughts of
her. Who was she?
Crazy explanations
rattled around in my head, but I settled on two: I had imagined the whole thing
or she was a ghost. By the fourth day, I decided on the former.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
My eyes shot open and
I threw back the covers, racing out of bed, tripping over my shoes on the
floor. Thump! After picking my
bruised knees off the floor, I continued my race to the mirror. Panting, I
stood in front of it and waited … hoped … prayed.
She materialized
before my very eyes, even more mesmerizing than I had remembered. Her ethereal
presence stole my tongue, and I simply stared like a mute fool.
She blinked, then her
curvy mouth upturned into a tender, somewhat uncertain smile.
"Are you
real?" she whispered.
Her question
surprised me. "I was about to ask you the same thing," I whispered
back, returning her smile.
In the next moment,
she was gone.
"No!" My
palm smacked the mirror.
"Michael?"
Oh, no … Carolyn.
Trying to calm myself, I answered, "Yes, dear. Everything's fine. I was
just getting a glass of water and stumbled. I'm fine."
"I'm fine"
was my go-to response the next several days. In truth, I was far from fine.
There were bags underneath my eyes from lack of sleep. I had myself
half-convinced I was crazy.
Then one afternoon,
Carolyn had left to go shopping for material for the new drapes, and I heard it
again.
Tap. Tap.
I was in the bedroom
and sped to the mirror. She was there! The most beautiful almond-shaped eyes
stared back at me.
"Please don't
go…" I begged. My heart was thumping out of my chest.
"You are real. I
have waited so long for someone to find me." A single tear trickled down
her cheek and she caught it with her slender fingertip.
"Who … what …
are you?"
"I am
Annabelle."
"You are
beautiful." The words flew out my mouth before I could catch them.
"Am I?" Her
cheeks pinked while she fiddled with her long, chestnut tresses; a shy smile
adorned her heart-shaped face. "I have not looked upon my own face in
ages."
I could see most of
her frame in the elongated mirror. From her face, my eyes trekked downward. Her
gown was knee-length and see-through. Completely see-through leaving nothing to
the imagination. I hardened instantly at the sight of her large areolas adorning
voluptuous breasts and the darkened patch covering her mound below. Her form
was exquisitely curved and her rounded hips swirled into shapely legs. In a
word – perfection.
I wanted her to see
herself and an idea struck. "I'll be right back." I darted away then
turned abruptly, returned to the mirror and added, "Please don't go
anywhere this time. I'm Michael, by the way."
She giggled. "I
think I shall call you 'Handsome'."
Such a delightful
sound she made when she laughed. I headed back towards the bathroom to fetch
what I needed and quickly returned holding the item behind my back.
"You
ready?"
"I'm not
sure." She stretched her neck from side to side as if trying to see what
was behind my back. "What are you up to, Handsome?"
Her compliment had
not been lost on me and I smiled as I held the small mirror in front of her.
"Oh my
goodness!" She stared at her reflection for a few moments without saying
another word.
I couldn't decipher
her expression. Was she in shock? She raised a hand to her cheek and her
fingertips outlined her features. Was she trying to determine if she was real?
A satisfied smile crossed her face and she tousled her hair, seemingly
adjusting her tendrils to suit. Stepping back she said, "Not too
shabby," and pursed her lips.
"Are you a
ghost?"
Her smile faded.
"I do not know."
"How did you get
in the mirror?"
"I … I … do not
know." She furrowed her brows.
"Can you
leave?"
She turned around so
I couldn't see her face. Her shoulders shook and I knew she was crying.
"I'm sorry. I
just want to understand."
"You are
upsetting me. No more questions." She spoke with her back toward me and
sniffled back her tears.
"I'm very sorry.
Please turn back around."
Slowly she turned,
twisting the skirt of her gown with one hand while she wiped her tears with the
other.
I was drawn to her.
Not just her obvious beauty, but her spirit tugged at my emotions.
"How can I help
you?"
"Just spend time
with me. Talk to me."
"I can do that,
Annabelle." At that moment, I didn't look ahead at how these interactions
would complicate my life. I was just a man wanting to soothe a beautiful woman.
~ooOoo~
Our relationship grew
from that point. Whenever I had the opportunity, I chatted with her. She
deflected any questions, but delighted in hearing about my life.
One day she asked,
"Handsome, who is the woman I see?"
"Oh, um, that's
my wife." I frowned, disturbed I hadn't thought to mention her before.
"Carolyn's her name."
She wrinkled her pert
nose. "She's quite bossy, don't you think?"
"Well, no, I've
never thought–"
"I hear her
always saying, 'Do this. Do that.'"
My stomach tightened
discussing my wife, so I changed the subject. "We're renovating this
house."
With that statement,
she cocked an eyebrow. "Do tell! I'd love to hear your plans for the
house!"
I was surprised by
her interest, but filled her in on our plans. She wanted more details, so I
described best I could our vision of redoing each room on both floors.
And so we continued
our routine of chatting when my wife was gone. Admittedly, guilt churned in my
stomach at times. But I reasoned no one was getting hurt. Sometimes, she had
sharp words about my wife which lingered inside my mind.
One day, I guess I
was tired and my wife annoyed me, which was unusual.
"Michael, strip
the ratty wallpaper in the hall bath, so I can prep the wall for fresh paint. I
think a sunny yellow will look nice."
"Stop bossing me
around!"
"What? Where did
that come from?" She eyed me like I'd suddenly grown two heads.
"I'm just tired
of you bossing me around like a child."
"Michael, I'm
sorry if that's the way it sounds, but you've really dropped the ball on the
house reno." She huffed a deep sigh. "May I remind you that this was
all your idea. 'Let's buy an old home and renovate it together. It'll be fun,'
you said."
My face grew red. She
was right. I knew she was right. I had said those words and meant them at the
time. We had just celebrated our seventh anniversary, and truthfully life felt
a little stale. I had thought doing this would add some excitement, creating
our new home together with our own hands. But then Annabelle came into the
picture, or more correctly a mirror.
Immediately, I
directed my attention back to the house renovations. It was fun, working
alongside my wife. We experienced several mishaps with paint color, etc, but
laughed them off. I was happy for a bit. When it came time for bed, I made sure
my wife and I walked past the mirror together. This new bliss didn't last
though. Thoughts of Annabelle tugged at my conscience once again. Why couldn't
I stay away from her?
The next morning, my
wife was up early working in the garden, so I approached the mirror and waited.
I admit, to my shame, my heart fluttered when she appeared. I had missed her.
It seemed the feelings were mutual.
"Handsome, I've
missed you!" Her eyes danced with joy, luring me in immediately.
"I'm
sorry." I paused to gather my words. It had proven hard to concentrate in
her beguiling presence. "I've been working on the house. We are clearing
the dead landscaping and I planted–"
She had slipped her hand
inside her see-through dress and was massaging her nipple. Damn! Not expecting
this greeting, my body betrayed my wife without pause. My mind soon followed as
I found myself wanting to slip my hand inside her blouse too. No! I can't do
this with her.
"Please
stop," I requested, my tone harsher than intended.
"Stop
what?" She bit her lower lip like a child caught doing something very
naughty.
Instead of stopping,
she lowered her gown, revealing her breasts to me. Of course, they were
perfectly formed, just the right amount of plumpness and cleavage. Taut pink
nipples adorned their center, begging to be pinched or sucked or–
"Stop that! We
can't do this, Annabelle. I'm a happily married man!" My cock betrayed my
wife for the second time in the last five minutes as I ached inside my jeans.
Annabelle flicked her
lips upward into a smile before she resumed her trademark pout. Honestly,
sometimes I didn't know if I wanted to kiss her or spank her. Both options had
their appeal.
I have to get away
from her. Without further word, I turned and stalked away, cursing myself for
walking this close to the line. I'm a
happily married man. I'm a happily married man...
~ooOoo~
The next few days I
avoided her … again, hurrying past the mirror without a glance on my way to the
bedroom. As time passed, concern for her gnawed at me … again. I couldn't
escape this pattern. I justified my feeling by reminding myself of her horrid
predicament. She was literally trapped inside the mirror alone. Was I being
selfish? It wasn't like we could actually physically touch one another. Did it
really hurt anything to flirt a little if it brought her joy?
I finally couldn't
resist and approached the mirror. Carolyn had awakened early and headed into
town to run some errands. "Annabelle, are you there?"
I stood for several
minutes waiting. Panic was starting to build when she suddenly materialized.
Her sad eyes broke my heart.
"Do you not find
me attractive, Handsome?"
"Of course, I
do. You know I do."
"Do I?" Her
eyes filled with tears.
My resistance caved.
Before one single teardrop could fall, I revealed my body's response to her,
unzipping my jeans and yanking my cock out. "Does this convince you?"
She immediately
pressed her forehead against the glass staring directly at my stiff member.
"Oh my goodness, Handsome. No wonder your wife keeps you tied to her apron
strings."
"I'm not
tied–"
She interrupted.
"I want to touch it!"
Her eager outburst
was unexpected but also arousing. Unconsciously, my hand had moved to my cock
and was stroking up and down the length.
"Yes, you touch
it for me, Handsome."
I shouldn't be doing
this. I was definitely crossing a line.
"I will direct
your hand as if it was my own," she purred, her voice lowered into a
sultry register.
"Do you see now?
You see what you do to me?" I placed my free hand on the glass and hers
covered mine.
"Handsome,
concentrate on your head. My hand is caressing up and over the ridge and
milking your head."
My hand obeyed. God,
it feels good. She hit my most sensitive spot.
I looked back at her
and her eyes were fixated on my hand. Such a turn-on!
"Now, slide your
hand all the way down then back up again."
I obeyed again.
"Not so fast,
Handsome. Sloooowly."
I slowed my stroke,
which was painful because I had fast-approached the edge already. This was a
very intimate experience for me.
"Fuck!" I
gasped.
"Yes, Handsome.
I wish to fuck as well!" She talked with a ragged breath, clearly as
aroused as me.
Again, such a
turn-on!
"Annabelle … I …
I … need to cum!" I stuttered, my balls tightening with each word.
"My hand is
rubbing you faster and faster and harder. Cum, Handsome. Shower me with your
seed!"
My hand jacked my
cock with vigor while the other took hold of my balls, lightly squeezing.
"Fuck!" I exclaimed when the first spurt hit the mirror. Then another
and another and another.
Oh, God, what a mess.
I had painted her white. As I'm someone not easily shocked, she then did
something that truly shocked me. Her hand raised to the glass and swiped in
circles where my cum was splattered as if she was covering her fingers in it.
She giggled with her hand movements.
What an erotic sight!
"Let me go get a
wipe to clean you up."
"Not yet…"
I stood holding my
deflating dick while she continued to pretend she was playing in my cum. When
she finished, she drew a smiley face with her finger. I had never met a woman
like Annabelle and had to admit I was falling for her.
I left and returned
with a paper towel to clean up my mess. Her eyes sparkled now, definitely
sparkled.
"Thank you,
Handsome." She blew me a kiss.
I chuckled.
"Don't you think I should be the one saying, 'Thank you?'"
She laughed her
melodic laugh and I continued. "Do you still doubt my attraction towards
you?"
"I do not."
I leaned back against
the wall across from her and time flew by as we chatted. She was not only
beautiful but intelligent and wanted me to educate her on the current events in
our world. Our conversation flowed with ease, drawing me closer to her.
"Honey, I'm
home!"
My wife's words
interrupted us. Annabelle's smile reverted to a pout and thus time, I pressed
my lips to the glass to soothe her. Her lips matched my movements on the other
side of the glass and I guess one could call this "our first kiss".
I headed downstairs,
looking for Carolyn.
I found her in the
living room and she handed me the bag from the hardware store.
"Here's what you
asked for, honey," she said, plopping down on the couch.
I sat down beside her
checking the contents of the bag. When I looked up, her eyes darted around the
room as if she was looking for something. She opened her mouth, then closed it.
"What?"
"What do you
mean 'What?'"
"You looked like
you wanted to say something about this room."
She didn't answer my
question but asked one of her own. "Has anyone in town told you about the
lady who last lived here?"
"No. The realtor
said the last owner abandoned the property. That's why the furniture and stuff
was still here. I figured whoever couldn't pay their bills."
"That's not what
I heard today."
I turned to face her,
curious. "Well … what did you hear?"
"Mr. Jenkins at
the hardware store said a woman owned this house and then one day just
disappeared, but previously always paid cash, and seemed to have plenty of
money. He thinks someone took her, but the police investigated and found no
sign of foul play. That was five years ago and the house has been empty ever
since … until we bought it."
"Did he tell you
her name?"
"Yes. Miss
Annabelle Watkins."
My chest immediately
tightened. More confused than ever about the stunning lady in the mirror, I
needed to digest this latest news. So many questions. Did I really want to go
down this rabbit hole? My gut said, "No." Could I escape her
seductive pull? I had my doubts. There was just something about her that drew
me towards her like a magnet.
I did often question
my sanity. After all, I was a man regularly conversing with a woman trapped
inside a mirror. My late father's words kept echoing inside my head. "Son,
the thing about crazy people is they don't know they're crazy." If his
words rang true, I couldn't accurately define my mental state, could I?
~ooOoo~
As the weeks passed,
Annabelle expressed her unhappiness more and more.
"I'm sorry you
are so lonely. I wish I could be with you more, but … my wife … she's feeling
neglected."
She pouted her
luscious lips in that sensual way that always stirred my nether regions.
Her hand held her
chin up while her eyes glanced upward as if contemplating a most serious
dilemma.
I watched and waited
patiently for her to respond.
"I know!"
Her voice raised a few keys in excitement. "What about if you moved me
into your bedroom? At least, I wouldn't be alone at night."
I couldn't lie, I
liked the thought of her in my bedroom, but it was risky. We increased the risk
of Carolyn seeing her.
I glanced back at her
and she pressed a hand against the glass. "Please…"
Her eyes … I couldn't
say no to her wishes when she batted her lovely brown eyes at me.
"Are you sure
about this?"
"Most definitely
sure, Handsome."
I conceded to her
desires, as usual, and lifted the mirror off its hooks, then carefully carried
it into the bedroom. After I leaned the mirror against the wall, I knelt to
check on her.
"Annabelle, are
you alright?"
Her cheeks dimpled
with happiness when she reappeared. "Yes, I'm quite alright, my
darling."
"I'll be right
here beside you, attaching the new hooks to the wall."
When my task was
complete, I gripped the sides of the mirror and hung it on the wall facing the
bed. My bed. The bed I shared with my wife. What was I thinking?
My heart fluttered
until she appeared before me again.
"My dearest, I
love it!" she squealed, clasping her hands together. "I feel closer
to you already and can watch you while you slumber."
Her excitement was
contagious. "Yes, I like you here, too – in my bedroom." I gestured
around the room with my hand as my cock stiffened inside my jeans. That was
becoming an uncomfortably consistent response to Annabelle.
~ooOoo~
I heard the front
door open and close, then shoes tapping on the wooden steps.
"Michael, I'm
home and gonna hit the shower."
"Okay,
babe."
I whispered to
Annabelle she was home and she frowned and disappeared. Trying to look busy, I
started hanging up my shirts stacked in the laundry basket, then changed into
my robe, decided a bath would feel good. When I stepped outside the closet, I
ran smack into Carolyn, who was wearing nothing but a smile.
"Mmm, what's
this all about?" I said as she guided my hands to her rounded hips. It
wasn't often my wife approached me in the nude.
"You've been so
distracted lately, I've felt–" Her fingers worked the knot on my robe
while she talked. "–unwanted."
My robe opened and
she pressed her naked breasts against me with her hard nipples poking my bare
flesh. She looked so sexy, however, a picture of Annabelle entered my mind.
What if she sees us?
Isn't that what I wanted though? Hadn't I played this moment in my head when I
moved her into my – our – bedroom?
I glanced at the
mirror and Annabelle was indeed watching. Her eyes were propped wide open with
excitement.
Seeing her watching
affected me … or more specifically, my cock. Even knowing this was wrong, I
couldn't stop. I wanted Annabelle to watch. After shedding my robe, I pulled
Carolyn roughly against my body again. She felt my arousal and moaned,
"Mmm, you want me honey?"
"Yeah, of course
I want you, baby." My lips brushed my wife's ear, but my eyes engaged
Annabelle. I'd draw her into our lovemaking – make her a part of it. It further
aroused me to witness her blushing face as she pressed her palms against the
glass, splaying her fingers.
Carolyn pushed me
backward to where I was sitting on the edge of the bed and lowered herself to
her knees. I groaned with anticipation. It had been awhile since she'd given me
head.
My fingers tangled
within her blonde hair, guiding her mouth to my heat. She wasted no time
sucking me deep inside her throat. Damn, I had missed her blow jobs!
I detected movement
in front of me and Annabelle had slipped her hand inside her white gown. Her
fingers worked one nipple while the other nipple poked the flimsy material.
I mouthed, "Yes,
baby" and she blew me a kiss.
Carolyn continued
slobbering all over my cock, twirling her tongue around the sensitive tip, then
slurping me back inside her warm mouth. Damn,
she gives good head!
My stomach churned,
forecasting an orgasm building. A guy reaches a point of no return and has to
take control. My hands clutched my wife's head as I took over the pace, roughly
face-fucking her. She loudly gagged, but didn't try to pull away.
I looked in the
mirror again, witnessing my pre-orgasm face. Nose wrinkled. Jaw clenched.
Annabelle's eyes were locked with mine. Her breasts now flushed with arousal. I
wanted her so badly!
"Ahhh!" I
roared with my ejaculation, deeply feeling each spurt leave my cock. Carolyn
dutifully swallowed every last drop. When I finished I collapsed back onto the
bed.
Panting, I lay
staring at the ceiling. Carolyn tugged at me to scoot up to the head of the
bed. She folded herself inside my arms and kissed my cheek.
"Rest, sweetie,
then I'm going to let you fuck my brains out."
"Mmm, you got
yourself a deal, babe." My eyelids grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep,
but not before stealing a glance towards the mirror. Annabelle was gone.
I awakened some time
later, or rather my cock awakened. My wife was sprawled out on her back in a
most inviting position. I crawled down the bed and settled between her legs.
She stirred slightly but jumped when my tongue hit her clit.
"Michael!"
"Relax and
enjoy. I'm gonna make you cum. Then fuck you raw and make you cum again."
"Mmmm" was
all she moaned before settling back into the soft sheets.
I buried my face in
between her moist center, tonguing every crevice and every opening. Even her
naughty hole received some licks.
"Don't
stop!" she begged.
I had no intention of
stopping. Eating pussy had always been one of my favorite things and I missed
it. I pulled my face back for a moment to take a long look at her. She was wet
already and I smeared her wetness up and down her lips with my fingertips then
flicked her clit with my tongue. As much as I tried to keep my thoughts on my
wife, I wondered what Annabelle looked like between her legs.
I dove back in and
she cried out, arching her hips off the bed. Her leg muscles flexed as she
locked my head in place. Here it comes…
"Ahhhhhhh!
Ahhhhh! God, Michael!"
My tongue never
stopped flicking until her thighs released me. She lay gasping, her hands
running across her flushed breasts. Now, I needed mine!
"Flip! Head
down, ass up!" I ordered.
She scampered into
position, her hands already clutching the covers she'd need to squeeze while my
cock plundered her pussy.
My hand clutched the
back of Carolyn's neck, pressing her face harder into the mattress.
"I'm going to
fuck you so hard!"
I glanced in the
mirror and Annabelle had her dress bunched around her waist with one hand, her
other resting on her hairy mound.
I nodded and she slid
her finger down her lips where they disappeared inside of her.
Returning my
attention to my wife, I gave her a stinging slap on her ass.
"Michael!"
I pried her lips
apart with my cock and prodded her hot center with just the tip.
"Tell me what
you want!" I demanded.
Carolyn yelled,
"Fuck me!" I looked at Annabelle for her answer and she mouthed the
same.
A well-timed spank
heightened the sensation as I thrust into my wife's wanton pussy with full
force. Her insides clung to me as I withdrew only to plunge back inside again.
In and out. In and out. In and out. We three settled into a rhythm: my wife's
grunts, my cock's thrusts, and Annabelle's finger-fucks.
Even though it was
Carolyn's pussy I was stretching, in my mind, it was Annabelle I was fucking.
Unable to tear my eyes from the erotic scene in the mirror, I timed my thrusts
with her plunging fingers, mouthing for her to cum. Her legs trembled and I
knew her orgasm was building. I continued to spank my wife, drawing her to the
edge as well.
To both women, I
ordered, "Cum for me! Cum, now!"
I listened to
Carolyn's orgasmic screams while I watched Annabelle's trembling body. So sexy!
Her lips formed the perfect "O" while her eyes squinted. My cock
shared her orgasm as if it was her clutching pussy I was buried within.
Tumbling over the
cliff, I released copious amounts of cum inside my wife, Fuck, this feels good!
After my last squirt,
I collapsed on top of Carolyn's heated body. Her eyes were still clenched shut
as she experienced more aftershocks, so I stole one last glance at Annabelle.
Her breasts were heaving as she continued to come down from her high. I blew
her a kiss and hoped she knew how special this experience had been to me.
Carolyn cooed with
satisfaction and I rolled off her, sitting back on the bed. Unexpectedly, she
raised up on her elbows and glanced towards the mirror. My breath caught, but
thankfully, Annabelle had vanished before she saw her. Instead, my wife's eyes
met mine in the mirror.
"You moved the
mirror in here. Why?"
Before I could make
up an answer she exclaimed, "Oh my God, Michael!"
"What?" I
choked out the word.
"Were you
watching yourself fuck me in the mirror?" It sounded more like an
accusation than a question.
I panicked.
"Well … I … I..."
"That's so hot,
hun!" Her stoic face spread into a wide smile. "Can I watch next
time?"
Bullet dodged. This
time...
~ooOoo~
The double life I'd
been leading carried on for months. I guess I knew when it started, eventually,
everything would come to a head. Annabelle and I grew closer by the day until
she consumed my every waking thought. An inextinguishable fire burned inside my
bones – for her!
And then there was
Carolyn, my devoted wife. I couldn't remember the exact day she quit asking me
what was wrong. I guess she finally accepted that this new "distanced
me" was here to stay. The whole situation was monumentally unfair to her.
I willingly admit she'd done nothing to lessen my affections for her. She was
the perfect wife except for one thing – she wasn't the woman in the mirror.
I hadn't dared to use
the "L" word before. Wasn't that the ultimate betrayal towards my
wife? I, however, had to accept the truth – I had fallen in love with
Annabelle.
I needed to see her
and darted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. My feet never slowed until
I was standing in front of the mirror.
Upon first glance I
knew – she'd been crying again. Her red eyes gave her away. My heart cracked
more and more each day knowing she was in pain and I couldn't hold her, kiss
her, and make love to her.
Her fingers touched
mine against the glass as I begged, my voice cracking with emotion, "How
can I help you? There must be a way!"
She cast her eyes
downward, lips quivering.
"Annabelle, look
at me. What is it? You can tell me. You know how I can free you, don't
you?" I wouldn't let it go this time. Today was the day I would save her
and we'd figure out my wife and the rest tomorrow.
"I do … but …
darling, it is too much to ask. You'd have to sacrifice your–"
Suddenly, a hammer
entered my line of vision, making contact with its target before I could
intercede. My beloved Annabelle pierced my ears with her gut-wrenching cry. To
my horror, her reflection shattered with the glass right before my eyes. I
gasped! One by one, the fractured pieces fell to the floor
"I've always
hated that mirror," my wife stated with a flat voice, eyes devoid of
emotion.
Her fingers released
the hammer and it landed with a thump on the wooden floor. She casually turned
and walked away, leaving me to pick up the broken pieces.
(c) KimmiBeGood 2021. All rights reserved.
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