🟡𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎🟢
This Day20 of kinkober and is a collaboration with @wildandsmile. The prompt is mirror sex. Enjoy!
"Damn, that workout nearly killed me!" Joseph groaned, tossing his sweat-soaked gym bag onto the hallway bench. He stretched his aching shoulders, joints popping like bubble wrap. "Thought I'd never finish those reps." The scent of stale rubber and desperation clung to his damp tank top.
He kicked off his sneakers near the antique mirror, its ornate frame swallowing half the wall. "Still got it," he smirked, flexing a bicep at his reflection, a ritual since his boxing days. His grin faded when he noticed you leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed. "Hey! Didn't see you there."
"You looked busy admiring the merchandise," you teased, stepping closer. The cool air conditioning raised goosebumps on his damp skin as you traced the curve of his shoulder. Joseph caught your wrist, pulling you flush against him, the heat radiating off his chest clashed with the chill clinging to your back. His sweat smelled like salt and effort, primal and raw.
His reflection watched yours intently in the ornate mirror as he pushed you against its cool surface. "Admiring?" Joseph murmured against your neck, his calloused hands sliding down your hips. "More like appreciating the view." The glass fogged slightly where your palms pressed flat against it. His eyes locked onto yours in the mirror, dark, hungry, utterly focused.
"You're still sweaty," you breathed, arching into him. His damp tank top clung to your skin, transferring the heat and salt of his exertion. He laughed low in his chest, a rumble you felt against your spine. "So?" Joseph countered, fingers hooking into your waistband. "That just means I worked hard for this." He pushed closer, trapping you between his body and the glass. His reflection grinned wickedly over your shoulder.
One hand slid up under your shirt, rough palm skimming your stomach, while the other tilted your chin up to meet his mirrored gaze. "Watch," he commanded, voice thick. His hips pressed forward, grinding slow and deliberate against you. The friction drew a gasp from your lips, a sound echoed faintly by the glass. You saw his pupils dilate watching your reaction, saw the flush spread across his neck.
He didn’t rush. Joseph moved with the same deliberate control he used lifting weights, each thrust measured, building pressure against the mirror until your breath hitched. His reflection held yours captive, sweat dripping down his temple onto your shoulder as he murmured, "See how good we look together?" The antique frame trembled slightly with every deep, deliberate push.
His hands slid under your shirt, calloused palms dragging fabric upward. Cool air kissed your stomach as he exposed skin inch by inch, his gaze locked on the mirror. "Lift," he commanded softly. You obeyed, arms rising, letting him peel the shirt over your head. It landed somewhere near his gym bag with a soft *whump*. The glass chilled your bare chest, a sharp contrast to the furnace of his chest pressed against you.
Fingers hooked into your waistband, Joseph’s knuckles brushing the sensitive dip above your hipbone. He tugged downward with a slow, deliberate pressure, denim sliding over thighs until the fabric pooled at your ankles. "Step," he murmured, voice low and graveled against your ear. You lifted one foot, then the other, kicking the jeans aside. Cool air prickled your exposed skin, but Joseph’s heat enveloped you instantly, his damp tank top rough against your back as he pressed close again. In the mirror, his reflection watched yours intently, your flushed face, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, before his gaze dropped to the curve of your bare hip.
His palm slid around your waist, calloused skin catching slightly as he traced the line of your underwear. A thumb slipped beneath the elastic, grazing the swell of your ass. "These too," he commanded, not harsh, but leaving no room for hesitation. He peeled the fabric down with agonizing slowness, letting it fall to join the jeans. The mirror captured it all: the tremor in your thigh, the way your fingers pressed white against the glass for balance, the stark vulnerability of your body framed by that ornate gold. Joseph’s eyes, dark and unwavering in the reflection, drank you in. "Beautiful," he breathed, the word rough-edged, possessive.
His hands returned to your hips, pulling you away from the trembling glass, until you could see your whole body. One slid deliberately forward, fingers spreading low across your belly before dipping between your thighs. The first touch was feather-light, a deliberate graze along your inner thigh that made you gasp. In the mirror, his gaze locked onto yours, intense, demanding attention. "Look at me," he ordered again, his voice thick. His middle finger traced a slow, maddening circle around your clit, the pressure teasingly light, then vanishing entirely before circling again. You saw your own eyes widen in the reflection, lips parting on a soundless plea.
He kept the rhythm deliberately slow, his fingers slick with your arousal now. He’d circle, retreat, brush the sensitive folds below without entering, then return to torment your clit with the same unhurried pressure. His other hand tightened on your hip, holding you steady against himself as the increasing urgency building in your core rised. His reflection watched yours intently, a predatory satisfaction in his eyes as he cataloged every flinch, every bitten lip, every involuntary shift of your hips seeking more friction.
“Your next line is ‘stop teasing me’,” Joseph growled. “Stop teasing me-“ you gasp out before you could stop yourself. Joesph smiles wickedly as his finger finally slipping inside with a slick pressure that drew a sharp cry from your throat. He watched the sound ripple across your reflection, his hips grinding against your ass as he worked you deeper.
He spread your folds deliberately with his thumb and forefinger, exposing flushed pink flesh to the cool air and the mirror’s unblinking eye. “Look at how you take me,” he commanded again, his voice rough as gravel. He adds his ring finger as his fingers slid deeper, curling upward to stroke that spot inside that made your knees buckle. In the glass, you saw your own eyes widen, lips parting in a silent O as his knuckles pressed against your clit with each thrust.
“Joseph—” you choked out, hips jerking against his hand, seeking more. His reflection grinned, sharp and predatory. “Not yet.” He withdrew his fingers entirely, slick and glistening, holding them up briefly for you both to see in the mirror before wiping them slowly across your trembling belly. The sudden emptiness was a cruel ache. He stepped back slightly, his damp tank top peeling away from your bare back, leaving your skin chilled and exposed.
His hands went to his own waistband, the button popping open with practiced ease. The zipper rasped down, loud in the quiet room. He shoved the sweatpants past his hips, letting them fall heavily around his ankles. Stepping free, he kicked them aside. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, already slick at the tip. He gripped himself firmly at the base, giving a slow, deliberate stroke, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror. “See what you do to me?” he murmured, the vein along his length pulsing visibly. “Been thinking about this since the gym.”
He crowded you back against the chilled glass, his heat enveloping you again. One hand slid firmly around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his. The blunt, slick head of his cock pressed insistently against your entrance, nudging through slick folds. He paused, letting you feel the thick pressure, the heat radiating from him. His gaze in the mirror was molten, fixed on where his body met yours. “Ready?” His voice was a low rumble against your ear, not really a question.
He pushed forward slowly, a deep, stretching invasion that stole your breath. You watched your own eyes widen in the mirror, your lips parting on a gasp as he filled you inch by deliberate inch. His reflection was pure concentration, jaw clenched, eyes dark with focus as he bottomed out, hips pressed flush against your ass. He held there, buried deep, letting you feel the sheer thickness of him stretching you impossibly full. A low groan vibrated in his chest. “Fuck,” he breathed, his gaze dropping to where you were joined, riveted. “Look at that.”
He began to move with the same relentless control he used in the ring – slow, deep withdrawals followed by powerful, grinding thrusts that drove the breath from your lungs. Each stroke dragged against sensitive inner walls, deliberate and devastating. His calloused hand slid possessively across your belly, fingers splaying low, anchoring you against him as he drove deeper. Your reflection showed flushed skin, lips bitten red, eyes locked helplessly on his in the glass. Sweat trickled down his temple onto your shoulder blade. “Feel it?” he rasped, watching your expression shatter with each deep push. “Every inch.”
The rhythm intensified, still measured but harder, faster. The antique mirror shuddered faintly with every powerful thrust. His hand slid lower, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, urgent circles in perfect counterpoint to the deep piston of his hips. The dual assault tore a ragged cry from your throat. Your reflection showed your head thrown back, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut. Joseph’s gaze in the mirror was fierce, triumphant. “Open your eyes,” he commanded, voice thick and strained. “Watch us.” He drove harder, the slap of skin echoing sharply. “Watch yourself take
me.”
You forced your eyes open, meeting his burning gaze in the glass. The sight was overwhelming – the raw need on his face, the flush spreading across your own chest, the slick movement where your bodies joined. His thumb pressed harder on your clit, relentless. He leaned forward, his damp chest plastered to your back, lips grazing your ear. “Gonna make you come,” he growled, the promise rough and immediate. His hips snapped forward with brutal precision, grinding deep. “Right here. Right now. Watch it happen.” His fingers worked faster, insistent, pulling the coil inside you impossibly taut.
A sharp gasp tore from your lips as the pressure broke. Pleasure detonated, white-hot and consuming, radiating outwards from where he filled you, amplified by his thumb’s frantic circles. Your reflection blurred, eyes wide and unfocused, mouth slack. Your body arched violently against the glass, held upright only by Joseph’s iron grip around your waist and the relentless drive of his hips. A low, ragged moan echoed in the small space, bouncing off the trembling mirror. Joseph watched it all, rapt, a primal satisfaction twisting his features as he felt the rhythmic clenching deep inside you.
He didn’t slow. If anything, your climax spurred him, his thrusts turning brutal, piston-like, driving into your oversensitive core with single-minded intensity. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the air, sharp counterpoints to his guttural groans. His knuckles whitened where he gripped your hip, his other hand anchoring your belly, fingers digging possessively into soft flesh. His reflection was pure animal hunger now, jaw clenched, sweat dripping freely down his neck, eyes fixed on the slick joining of your bodies. "That's it," he snarled, voice thick and strained. "Take it. Take all of me."
His rhythm faltered, grew frantic. A shudder ripped through him, powerful enough to vibrate the trembling mirror frame. He buried himself impossibly deep with a final, grinding thrust, hips locked flush against your ass. A low, ragged roar tore from his throat, echoing yours from moments before. His head dropped forward, forehead pressing against the cool glass beside yours, breath fogging the surface in harsh bursts. You felt the hot pulse deep inside you, rhythmic and insistent, each surge drawing a choked gasp from your lips as your body instinctively clenched around him.
He stayed buried within you for a long moment, breathing hard, the frantic energy draining away like a tide leaving wreckage. Slowly, deliberately, he withdrew, the sensation leaving you achingly empty. His hands, still rough but infinitely gentle now, slid around your waist, turning you away from the fogged mirror. Your legs trembled violently, threatening to buckle. "Got you," he murmured, voice thick with exertion and something softer. He scooped you up effortlessly, one arm beneath your knees, the other supporting your back, lifting you clear of the discarded clothes pooling on the floor.
He carried you down the short hallway, his bare feet padding softly on the cool wood. The bedroom door stood open; he nudged it wider with his shoulder. The air here was cooler still, smelling faintly of clean linen and sunlight trapped behind drawn blinds. He crossed to the large bed, its dark blue comforter rumpled from the morning. Without ceremony, but with surprising care, he lowered you onto the cool sheets. Your body sank into the softness, limbs loose and heavy.
“Your next line is ‘I love you’, Joseph says with a smirk. “I love yo-, you’re an idiot” you laugh out before you could stop yourself. Joseph smiles as he leans down to kiss you softly, “I love you too” he murmurs against your lips. His hands roam gently over your skin, tracing the curve of your hip as he pulls the comforter over both of you. The cool sheets feel like heaven against your overheated skin, and you sigh, sinking deeper into the mattress. Joseph settles beside you, one arm draped protectively across your waist, his thumb absently stroking your side as you both fall asleep.
