The beautiful slut in the mirror

I watched this woman spread her legs and lift her hips to show me her vulva. She didn’t have the shaved-smooth, childish pussy you see in porn, with all its flesh tucked neatly inside like a clam in its shell. She dug her fingers through a thatch of tangled hair and then over her labia that dangled out of her like swollen, ruffled flesh-petals. She opened the lips widely and explored the shock of glistening, deep pink. She hunted and found the throbbing button of her clit, her little kernel of joy.

The girl in the mirror was wanton and crass. She didn’t have the submissive little pussy of a barely legal boy-toy. She had a powerfully red cunt, gushing like a mountain stream and hungry like a dragon’s mouth.

She looked back at me from the mirror, moaning and writhing, and whispering dirty little taunts. “Look at you, you horny slut. You hot little goddess, look at your cunt. Look at it.” She climaxed staring straight at me, her face scrunched up and beet red.

For a minute afterwards, I just lay on my back thinking about how the world sees me, and who this woman in the mirror might be. Before getting up and going to take a shower, I rolled over a got one last glimpse of her as she sniffed her fingers, smiling at the redolent, beachy, tang on her sticky fingers.