Straight from the 90's

I sat you down in front of the mirror,

naked and vulnerable.

And told you to really look at yourself...

So, what do you see?

It's not that I demanded an answer,

This question is not for me...

*ping* You get a message:

"Hands on your breasts"

You feel like I'm watching you

I'm not.

Your hands grab your breasts

You look at your reflection...

You don't look like you remembered yourself.

None of us do

Your heart beats faster in your chest

Does it feel like you're being chased?

Like someone else

is watching at you?

*ping* interrupts the train of thought

You come to answer but then hesitate...

Are you allowed to take your hands off your breast?

In the end,

you check your phone and read:

"Play with your boobs,

check -

its contours, its textures, but don't you dare to peek."

What's not to peek at?

You ask yourself;

Still,

playing with yourself

You touch, and feel...

Your face is red, and yet,

you play with your nipples...

squeezing them between your fingers...

And squeal.

You're ashamed.

You've never seen yourself like that

And you feel so naked

*ping* Another message

Should I take a peek?

You hesitate...

Massaging tits…

Cupping them...

And not peeking,

cause you're already so embarrassed

*ping* *ping* *ping*

Like ping-pong...

What now?

You ask in your head.

Your eyes on your bare body, and your hand…

You pick up the phone,

look at the first message:

"Focus only, on touching yourself"

You lower one hand…

Slowly... slowly...

Down between your legs...

looking at the other messages:

"Don't"

"Look"

"Back"

You put down the phone, forgetting about the past...

In the reflection in the background,

 a silhouette emerges…

Why does he force me?

to focus on myself?

And the silhouette grows bigger...

You make every effort to look only at yourself

It's hard anyway,

to truly meet yourself like that…

Here and now in the present.

But it's also stimulating...

You play with your pussy…

your hand caressing,

dipped in your body

And than

a leg starts to emerge

behind you, in the mirror.

You groan

and all along

doing all you can,

to keep concentrate…

and between your legs heat elevated

A masked figure comes out of the door,

in the reflection.

Your body starts to rise and fall

and you surrender…

And the figure approaches

but you're not paying attention,

you're too focused...

On who you are in the reflection.

It's not that the next time you look,

you'll be less embarrassed...

It's not that you'll recognize all your features,

or your image in the mirror...

But the next time you look,

what you certainly won't forget...

It's how I caught you from behind,

in the middle of your climax

You walk on thin heels, walking and almost slipping; 
In a tight skirt you walk and you don't even care 
that you're actually struggling, 
with pacing. 
You struggle mostly when you go downward,
you smile to yourself awkwardly. 
In fishnet tights you walk and you don't care about
the cool breeze, blowing on your shapely thighs and body; 
You're such a tease.
You smile awkwardly... thinking,
just how much you'll do, 
just to look so beautiful, 
for me, your dom.

The sidewalk is wet and you're almost slipping, 
The street lights are reflected in it;
They're reflected in your eyes too, 
like cheeky stars in the skies. 
There are droplets of water left
in the fresh air, 
from the rain
which decided to give you a little respite. 
You accept them into your sweet embrace in the neckline of your udders; 
And there's no bra to stand between
you and the soft moisture.
You imagine my lips there 
in your sweet embrace, 
You smile awkwardly to yourself.

Your thoughts wander from the road,
which feels so long tonight. 
Your thoughts wander from the road,
and you think in delight about
how much you will just do to
look the most beautiful in my eyes. 
You lightly moisten your lips, as you desire and expect my hands,
How they will grab your backside 
and pull you between my legs,
to no girls land.
In between your legs the fire were ignited, 
you feel it radiating heat. 
You're sure that they can also see it; 
But you don't mind, 
to be carried away by embarrassment
and their dark tides. 

For a moment, when you think no one is paying attention, 
you reach with your fingers to your chest, 
just above your heart 
and you pinch a nipple. 
You bite your lips lightly,
your hand slides, 
down and down inside, your shirt. 
You hear a whistle; 
And you blush in emberesment.

The main thing is to feel that you're ready for me;
And that sticky wetness on your legs... 
You're pleased to see
the way you feel in your thin heels
and your blouse, and your skirt. 
You are drawn to the whistle... 
You're like a moth in the skies; 
Drawn, floating not slipping. 
You read, and read attentively... the thrill between your thighs. 
And you enter my alley.

Your ankle is a little sore, 
your butt is tight in the sticky skirt, 
you smile to yourself 
as you think how beautiful you are 
just for my sake; 
And you blush in embarrassment.
Despite the wetness, 
despite the heels, 
you step confidently into the dark alley. 
With a curling pelvis.
You didn't fall,
even when you slipped awkwardly, 
you didn't fall, 
even when your lower body, 
burned bottomless in desire. 
And now you want to, 
you allow yourself to stumble 
straight into my arms.