The Weekly Mindfuck: Mirrors

I've seen a million takes on mirror sex. I've seen it in porn, I've seen it in movies, I've seen photos of ceilings completely covered in them. The mirror trope, as I've been wont to call it, is perhaps so overdone that I never gave it much of a second thought. Yeah, yeah, I get it - looking in the mirror while you have sex is kinky. In some ways, the technique seemed cheesy - almost ingenuine, one of those things you do because you hear you're supposed to. 

That is, I felt that way until I tried it for the first time. 

It wasn't intentional at all. We were drunk, still inebriated from a night out. It was late enough that neither of us was trying too pull out the stops or get really crazy, but in some ways - ok, every way - it made it all that much hotter. I have a round vanity mirror sitting on the desk in my room, and I hadn't realized it was facing directly toward us from where we were laying, my head hovering over his crotch and his head propped on a stack of pillows. When he asked if we could move down a few inches, I was at first confused. Why would we lay in the middle of the bed?

But then he signaled to the mirror. "I want to watch," was his reply. That's all it took. Once we moved, I went down on him like I had a million times, but this time I could watch myself, make eye contact with him in the mirror, watch his expressions as I worked.

Even when I broke away and we kept going, the mirror forgotten, the intensity had changed entirely, what few inhibitions we had left completely gone. We were more vocal, more athletic, more in sync, more open and more uninhibited. In short, it raised the bar. 

Which, of course, leaves me with a solitary question: What's next? 

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