The Mirror - Sex Stories

The Mirror

The waitress smiles as she brings the dessert menu over to our table in the corner. My companion, more than twenty years my senior, doesn't appear to notice as she takes the printed page from her outstretched hand. "I'll have the pavlova please" my mother says, adding "with cream" in the same breath. "What are you having?" she asks me as she hands over the sheet. A quick glance at the sweets on offer confirms that I have had sufficient; that is unless my mother wants coffee later. "I'm OK thanks" I reply and hand the menu back to the waitress. My fingers accidently brush the back of her hand as she reaches out to retrieve it from me and I am startled by my reaction. I glance at her and see something in her gaze that confuses me. "Would you like coffee?" she asks politely. Her eyes fix on me ... briefly holding me in her gaze. "Yes please" I reply quietly. "But could you bring them to us after my mother has finished her dessert?" "Of course" she replies, displaying a quick flash of white between her ruby lips. 'Why do you make me feel like this?' "How would you like it?" The words float at me through my confusion. "Do you do a cafetiere?" I eventually manage to ask. "Yes, of course. Large or medium?" "Medium please" I say as my mind stumbles to grasp what is happening. She smiles back at me as if to acknowledge my confusion. 'I have to move, I need some air' "Could you tell me where the ladies is please?" I ask, before she leaves to get my mothers dessert. "Just take the ...

... stairs by the kitchen. Second door on the left when you reach the bottom. You'll see the sign on the door". Again that smile. I reach for my purse and quickly head in that direction. Finding the required door, I push it open and place my hands on either side of the sink. I look straight ahead and the mirror reflects my state of mind. My green eyes look back at me in deep confusion as I retrieve two stray wisps of blonde hair. 'What's going on?' The mirror holds no answers, but the cool water feels good on my hands. Even better on my face. The sound of running water draws my attention. My eyes close as the water soothes my flushed skin. Droplets form and pool together on my cheek and begin to run down my neck. "Here, let me dry that for you" I hear a voice say from within the room. My eyes spring open. The mirror reveals I am no longer alone. "It's OK....I've got it" I stammer back. But the space between us has shrunk. She is close to me, right behind me. I watch mesmerised as she lifts the towel from the rail. 'My God....what is she doing?' My hands are trembling again. I need to say something. She steps closer. My mouth is dry. I drop my gaze as I feel the warm fabric on the side of my cheek. So gentle. I feel my head lean in towards her hand and return my eyes to the mirror. 'Why can't I say something?' I look at her again. Her simple white blouse and black skirt so typical of her profession. Her youth unfairly holding her high and tight. The skin on her face, flawless like ...