Her gaze tentatively meets mine in the reflection of the mirror. “Don’t look at me. Not yet,” I tell her. “I want you to see how fucking exquisite you are.” I trail a hand back up her arm, her skin pebbling with my touch. “With your right hand, touch your breast.”
Her small hand softly glides up her body and gently gropes her breast. Her eyes flutter with the contact, but she keeps them open, staring at herself, just as I told her to. My dick is straining against my pants as I watch her. How can she not know she’s so fucking sexy? Pulling away, I turn and quickly remove my pants and boxers. My dick is at full stance, hard as fuck. It’s been so long since I’ve had her, and I feel like I’m about to combust with want. But this must happen slowly. Pulling the chair from her bureau, I place it behind her and sit so that my face is perfectly align with her ass.
“Undo your pants, Clara.” Her shoulders rise and fall with each breath she takes, but she unbuttons them and moves her arms to her sides again. So nervous and sweet. I hook my fingers on the waistband of her pants and panties, tugging them down her legs. She gasps and momentarily glances back at me before she steps out of them and I shove them aside. Her ass still looks amazing. Age and having a kid haven’t changed it much at all. Gritting my teeth, I let my fingers glide up the backs of her legs until they’re just below her cheeks. Suddenly not shy, she arches her back so her ass pushes toward me, hungry for more of my touch. There’s my girl. I give her right cheek a hard slap, her flesh giving the slightest jiggle, driving me fucking nuts. She moans with the sting and I quickly grab her ass with both hands and massage it roughly.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Look at yourself, Clara,” I demand as I peek around the side of her to see her reflection. “Put your arms up.” She raises them and crosses them behind her head. I hold her hips and kiss her lower back before bending slightly and biting one of her ass cheeks. She yelps, causing me to shush her, and when I see her reflection again, her eyes are closed, her mouth parted as she breathes heavily.
“Open, Clara,” I tell her.
“I can’t,” she moans, letting her head fall back. “It feels too good.”
My grip stills on her waist, and I turn her to face me. Her eyes fly open and find my gaze before moving down to my dick. Her eyes flex at the sight of it, rich with desire. I wrap my hand around it and stroke slowly. “You see what you do to me, Clara? That’s all you. This is all yours. Tell me it’s yours,” I rasp.
“It’s m-mine,” she stutters.
She’s transfixed; she can’t look away. “Touch yourself.”
Her hand moves between her legs, her thin fingers sliding delicately along her pink flesh.
“Damn, that’s beautiful, Clara. Watching you touch yourself, fuck, it turns me on. How does it feel?”
“Soft and wet,” she whimpers. “So wet.”
My self-control snaps. I can’t take it anymore. I need her. I need to be inside of her. I grip her waist and twist her so she’s facing the mirror again and pull her toward me. “Time to take what’s yours, baby.”
She reaches back between her legs, her hand finding my erection, making me hiss and groan at the same time. Lowering herself, she runs the head of my cock along her warm slickness before finding her entrance and dropping slowly on my shaft. Her head falls forward as she moves down, and once she’s fully seated on me, she lets out a series of moans that sound somewhere between complete pleasure and relief. My hands are squeezing her waist as she stills and we both take a few seconds to get our wits about us. We want this to last. Easy does it. Slow and steady. Reaching around, I find her chin and raise it, holding her face so she’s forced to look in the mirror.
“Watch us,” I growl hoarsely. Then, hands on her hips, I raise and lower her, ever so slowly. I can see around her, watch what she’s watching. There’s something so erotic about watching my dick as it slides in and out of her. She pants as we move, releasing little mews here and there. She’s holding back. She wants to cry out, but we can’t. We can’t get too loud. We both know this. We have people downstairs that could hear.
“Fuck that looks good,” I growl. “My dick inside of you, those perfect nipples, those beautiful breasts. Do you like how that looks?”
“Yes.” She groans in pleasure. “I love it.”
“Do you see it? Do you see what I see?”
“Yes,” she pants, her head rolling down to her side as the pleasure overtakes her.
“Tell me you’re beautiful. Tell me you see it.”
“I see it,” she whimpers. “I-I’m beautiful.”
With that, I pull her off of me and spin her around so she’s facing me. Clara needed to be reminded of what she is; who she is. She’s not just a mother. She’s a beautiful, sexy woman. I wanted her to see that. But now, I need something, too. I need her to show me something.
“Now tell me you love me.”
She blinks a few times, a little thrown. She swallows hard, her breathing still erratic, before she steps toward me and threads her fingers in my hair. Bending down, she kisses me, then whispers, “I love you, Paul James.”