Room 2 Thirty 7, part 2.

Water sloshed from the tub as she sat up in shock, where had the second face come from? She lifted herself to her feet, water and soapy suds slithered from her body to the tub and floor as she stepped out to inspect the mirror.

She looked closely but could only see her own face staring back at her, she changed the angle of her stare and stepped backwards in shock, there he was, the man from the bar, the invisible man, the man from the mirror.

She went to scream, but no noise came out, she shook her head in disbelief and wiped at the mirror, she could see him clearer, blue jacket, light hair and tall; handsome even.

The mirror steamed over as quickly as she cleared it. She stepped back to sit on the edge of the bath, never taking her stare from the mirror as its frosted glass blurred her view of the man.

She sat in a bemusement at what she had seen, still convinced she had been spiked in the bar she stared at the mirror, her body paralysed with shock, her hair dripping with droplets of water rolling over her bare skin to the tiled floor. Her body temperature boiled in the heat of the room; perspiration now replaced the bathwater rolling from her.

Unable to move, she sensed a cold touch on her knees and an irresistible force pushing them apart, she tried to clamp but no matter how she tried she could not close her thighs. Her chest heaving with short breaths, she felt the cold touch rise from her knees to her inner thighs, another sensation of rough stubble on her skin waved over her as it made its way up her silky inner thighs.

She was powerless to do anything, her breath shortened in shallow bursts as the sensation climbed further up her thigh to brush against her curious pussy. She felt strangely aroused as the sensation centred on her sex, she could feel her clitoris being disturbed within its fleshy nest, her labia becoming wet to its feel.

Her eyes fixed on the mirrors as the condensation began to clear. She could see him again, but this time he was kneeling, she shifted her gaze to catch more of him and she caught her own reflection. Bare breasts heaving with her breathing, her flat stomach, her navel, his head!

“What the fuck?” She cried.

The reflection clearly showed his head buried between his thighs and it suddenly dawned on her that the sensation that was starting to drive her wild was his mouth devouring her pussy. She reached to push him away but her arms were heavy and unresponsive to her brains commands. Still he remained in the reflection of the mirror, head busily bobbing between her legs, his mouth gnawing at her swollen pussy and clitoris.

Her fingers pressed in to the ceramic edge of the bath tub, her finger ends white with the pressure as she felt her climax nearing, she could do nothing but watch the reflection in the mirror as her body convulsed and her pussy squirted a jet of hot liquid across the tiled floor. His reflection in the mirror never moved, same head bobbing and the same feeling of her swollen sodden pussy being eaten as if it were a delicious dessert.

She came again, a bigger gush of fluid left her vagina leaving an elongated puddle on the tiles, her head was spinning in befuddlement, her body aching from two powerful climaxes.

Her eyes clamped shut as she tried to make sense of what was happening, trying to focus her mind, thinking she would wake up from this dream at any moment wrapped in sodden, squirt stained bed sheets. The sensation on her sex stopped, the cold touch was gone.

She opened her eyes, the mirrors were misted over again, the drawn faces erased…

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