You’re watching his eyes as they carefully follow your hands, slowly cresting over your knee and slipping their way down around your slender calf and ankle, before finally teasing the stocking away.
You lower your bare foot back into the black heeled sandal shoe, unsheathe the other, then repeat the ritual of your erotic, stocking striptease.
His mind corrupts, deconstructing, reconnecting, recalling his dirtiest, naughtiest thoughts and dreams, smiling inside and out with devious pleasure as he fantasizes about you.
His eyes are relentless in their surveillance over you. Shrouded in firelight and shadows, naked and on full show, you allow his hunger to continue feasting.
Slowly you coil yourself down onto the ottoman, sensing he can’t help himself, the pulse in his erection visibly growing hard and strong, and he’s guilty as charged when he steals a loving look at your sex.
He settles down beside you, runs his arm around you, and you turn to reconnect your perfect kiss, and as your lips fuse, he slips his hand between your thighs.
Opening his eyes, he sees your many fire-lit bodies reflecting naked all around him, your hand gripping his cock as his closes to cup the perfection of your aching cunt.
His free hand begins to slowly move off your shoulder, unhurried and familiar, feeling your body tighten, then melt, while in the periphery, you sense your reflections, multiplied, framed in the large ornate mirrors.
Closing your eyes, you picture him, recalling the slow, easy movement of his cunning hands, and how carefully and confidently they run over you.
And when you reopen your eyes you gasp, inhaling fast, grasping your breath, seeing him handling you from inside the mirror, suddenly convinced his reflection has taken form.
Your fantasy unfolding, simply not possible, as he steps down, out of the rococo frame, and moves to stand behind you, reaching out with his outstretched hands to firmly claim your bare behind.
You feel the fire roasted warmth of you, your flesh firm against his loving touch, and you feel amazing in his grip as he closes his eyes and breathes in the very scent of your fantasy.
Hearing your gasp, his eyes reopen, and he gasps in sympathy, seeing his reflected physique moving of its own volition, framed within the far side of this ornate mirror.
Mute witness to his manifest form, seeing himself stepping out through the frame, coming forward to stand behind you, sandwiching you inside his own ménage-à-trio.
The shadows of his twin physiques seem to obscure the light, making the mirrored imagery appear opaque, but you see the fire reflecting in his bright hazel eyes, and they close with yours as his mouth comes closer, kissing freely, while from behind his hands grip familiar, and his rogue cock rubs against your thigh.
The firelight fuels your fantasies, you submit to the intensity as you fall further between the shadow of these two lovers.
Untethered, your imagination seems to spiral out of control, as a third and fourth reflection find their form and step out through the heavy gilt mirrors, free of their ornate frames, approaching you from either side, until you’re completely surrounded, a ménage-à-cinq.