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On fucking in the mirror

There is no mirror hanging in my hallway at the moment, and this is incredibly sad. My first task this weekend will be to put it back up – there is a direct correlation between how many mirrors I have hanging in my hallway and how likely I am to get fucked up against the hallway wall.

I can see you

Quick, sharp, functional fucks in various places around the flat are always best when done in a strategic place where I can watch him screw me.

In the hallway he usually takes me up against the wall. Often on a Saturday or Sunday morning – he’ll wake up later than me, hear me typing the latest filthy blog entry, and stride purposefully through to the lounge, dressing gown cord pulled tight around his erection.

“Do you fancy sucking my cock?”

Yes. Always. Please. 

He’ll head for the bedroom but stop me halfway, in the long, narrow corridor that leads between rooms. I’ll drop to my knees, he’ll drop the dressing gown, and pull my head towards his crotch.

“That’s it,” he murmurs sleepily, as I take the full length of his dick to the back of my throat. “Get it nice and wet.” And I do, because at that moment it’s all I want to do. The wetter I get him, the more easily he’ll slip inside me when, inevitably, he tells me to stand up.

“Face the wall. Drop your knickers.”

I lean forwards, putting my arms above my head and pressing my face and chest into the wall, bracing myself and spreading my legs wide so he can get in nice and deep. Then I turn to face the mirror so I can watch him.

The mirror gives me something I’ll never normally get – a view of his arms, shoulders, hands and face in profile. The muscles tensing and clenching as he fucks me quick and hard. The dents around my hips as he grips his hands tight around me. The jiggle of my arse and the taut strength of his thighs as he pushes against me.

You can see me

I have mirrors in my bedroom too. Not on the ceiling – I am not a 70s porn star, more’s the pity – but a huge mirror that dominates my dressing table and means that fucking over the end of the bed provides the best view in the house.

I don’t just like looking at you, though. Although there’s an appeal in seeing a much greater view of you in the mirror, one of the hottest things is knowing that you can see me. That when you pull my hair back it’s because you like to look at the curve of my neck in the mirror – you want to be able to see my facial expressions, and the jiggle of my tits with each stroke. When you look down you can watch your cock sliding deep into my cunt, and when looking to the side you can see all the rest of me – every bit moving to the rhythm that you’re setting.

The view and the pace and the angle are all dictated by you, as you push one hand onto the small of my back to make me arch it further, raise my arse up. Or the slight wince as you slam your dick home more forcefully, bashing my hips against the iron of the bed frame.

And – God – the grin on your face when I catch your eye, and you catch me looking too.

Fucking in the mirror: we both get an awesome view. I’m just sad that there’s one thing I’ll never see as you see – the sight of your dick as you pull it out at the end, squirting spunk over, around and deep into the crack of my ass.

I hope you found this entry hot. If you’ve got time, please help me with a quick experiment: one of these stories was written when I was super horny, and the other was written when I was much calmer, directly after I’d had a wank. Please comment and let me know which section you think was the hottest: “I can see you” or “You can see me”. It’s for science. Answer will be revealed in a future blog post (subscribe using the box at the top if you want to get alerts). Oh, and if you like hot hallway fucking (and sex around the house), have a look at the latest post at SexBlogOfSorts – it is bite-your-lip-and-pull-down-your-knickers hot.