A Reflection Of Beauty

Melody stood broken in the bedroom, fresh from a breakup that left her doubting she'd ever matter to anyone again. Dee stepped up behind her, staring straight into her eyes through the mirror. "Look at yourself," Dee demanded. Melody obeyed. The older woman raised a hand to cup one of Melody's perfect tits. "These. These fucking tits? Men beg for these." She slid her palm lower, grazing the tight dip of Melody's waist, then squeezed the curve of her ass. "This ass? It'll make anyone forget their own name." Melody shivered. Dee leaned closer, voice low. "You want proof someone still wants you? Look in that mirror while I show you." Her hand slipped inside the waistband of Melody's panties and found wet heat. Melody gasped, but Dee didn't ease off—two fingers pushed deep while her free hand teased a stiff nipple. Melody's reflection trembled, hips rolling, mouth parted. Dee kissed her neck, biting just hard enough to mark. "Watch how gorgeous you look when you come." Melody moaned, watching herself get finger-fucked, legs shaking, pussy dripping onto Dee's wrist. When she bucked and cried out, Dee smiled against her throat. "That's only round one," Dee whispered. She spun Melody around, dropped to her knees, and buried her tongue in the soaked cunt right in front of the mirror, never breaking eye contact. Melody's hands slammed against the glass, her breath fogging it as she rode Dee's mouth. Every slick lick said the same thing: this body was beautiful—and now it belonged to both of them.