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I intended for her to leave her mark, and I whispered such in her ear. “Now, whenever someone changes in this room, they'll be looking at our love. Each time a little girl tries on a new dress, she'll look at herself through our sex. Each time a hot guy comes to try on a new shirt, he'll look at himself through your body being pressed against this mirror.” And as I said that, my fingers found her nipples still pressed to the mirror and started squeezing them. I was still fucking her, and I moved my head to the side of her head and closely whispered “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the sexiest of them all?” She turned her head to meet mine and our lips locked. Our tongues were at war. Each time my cock invaded her body, her tongue invaded my mouth. Each time I pulled a little milk from her boobs her tongue slammed against mine. And I kept fucking her and could see, out of the corner of my eyes, white streams of lactation running down the mirror. We'd have to clean that up. Then I. I hear you whimper."It’s not going anywhere," I groan. My heart thunders. Time against us. Every rational thought telling us to stop but a ravenous need consumes us. "Oh god," you gasp, pulling my lips back to yours. I taste the gloss as our kiss deepens. My hands trace your body, fingers quickly finding the hem of your skirt that I ruffle up your thighs. High enough that my hand can slip between, enjoying the sensual touch of delicate damp lace. You buck your hips against me, your body urging me on."Hurry," you huskily plead. I turn you to face the washbasin, your own gaze falling upon your reflection in the mirror that sits above. I tug and pull the hem of your skirt higher, exposing more of your lace panties, giving your ripe little bottom a playful spank that echoes, along with your sharp gasp and hiss, through the restroom. My finger hooks the now saturated lace to one side as the sound of my zipper cuts through the air. Guiding my bulbous tip between your moist pussy lips I.
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