Tipping Point Pt. 2

Their reflections stared back at them from the wide mirror — two strangers caught between fantasy and reality.

Kiara’s black lace panties were shoved to the side, baring Kieran’s stiff cock, flushed dark against the pale skin of his thighs. Above the waist, the illusion of a perfect, demure woman held strong — makeup flawless, hair cascading in shining dark waves, eyes wide and pleading. But below the waist, the truth was raw and undeniable.

Seraphina shifted her hips, panting, her slick heat beckoning him closer.

Kieran didn't hesitate anymore. He gripped the base of his cock — nails manicured — and pressed the head against her soaked entrance. With a ****, shuddering thrust, he pushed inside, splitting her open on his length.

They both gasped — Seraphina's whimper breaking into a helpless cry, Kieran's voice catching high and breathy in his throat.

He buried himself to the hilt in one long, aching stroke, feeling her tight, wet walls clutch around him. For a heartbeat, he just stayed there, trembling, overwhelmed by the pure animal heat of being inside her.

"God..." he whimpered — but the voice that escaped him was all Kiara, sweet and helpless, despite the hard cock throbbing inside Seraphina.

In the mirror, he saw everything: the pretty girl with her delicate hands digging into Seraphina’s hips, the soft pink lipstick smudged with need — and the thick, obscene stretch where his cock disappeared inside Seraphina’s body.

It should have made him ashamed.

Instead, it made him want more.

"You're mine," he rasped against her ear, thrusting forward again, harder this time. The wet, obscene sound of skin against skin filled the room as he fucked her, slow and deep at first, then faster, grinding into her as Seraphina sobbed and clutched at the counter.

"Kiara, please—" she gasped, voice breaking.

He drove into her harder, rougher, nails digging into her skin. The counter shook beneath them with each thrust, the mirror rattling faintly with the ****.

"That's it, pretty girl," he purred, breathless and wild. "Take my cock..."

Seraphina sobbed his name — Kiara, Kiara, Kiara — and Kieran fucked her through it, relentless now, chasing the heat building between them, drowning in the wrongness and the rightness of it all.

Seraphina couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

The counter was cold under her belly, but the rest of her was fever-hot — stuffed so full she could barely handle it, Kiara’s slender, deceptively soft body pressing down over her back, moving with a kind of reckless, animal need.

In the mirror, Seraphina caught a messy glimpse of them — Kiara's perfect face, ruined and gorgeous, pink lipstick smeared, dark hair tangled. Her delicate hands were clutching Seraphina’s hips like a lifeline, nails painted sweet pink against bare skin.

Every roll of Kiara’s hips drove her cock deeper into Seraphina's slick, welcoming body, and Seraphina moaned shamelessly, letting her head fall forward against her arms.

"Fuck..." she slurred, blinking drunkenly at their reflection, brain spinning, heart pounding. Kiara looked so dainty. So sweet. It made no sense how good it felt, how deep she was.

Her muddled mind snagged on the thought, tangled and blurred. Her mouth moved before her brain caught up.

"Where the hell... did you get a strap-on like that...?" she mumbled, giggling sloppily. "Feels so real..."

Behind her, Kiara froze for a split second — hips stuttering — before she shoved in even deeper, making Seraphina gasp and writhe.

Kieran's blood thundered in his ears.

_Strap-on. _She thought it was a fucking strap-on.

Good. Perfect. He didn’t have to explain anything. Didn’t have to break this.

He just had to take her. Feel her.

The emerald green of Seraphina’s dress was bunched high around her waist, the fabric wrinkled and clinging to the curves of her hips. Every thrust sent her big, beautiful ass jiggling, just visible beneath the folds of cloth — and Kieran cursed under his breath when he realized his own dress, hitched messily up to his waist, was blocking part of the view.

Still, he could see enough to make his balls ache.

The sway of her ass when he pulled out, the ripple of her flesh when he slammed back in. The soft indentations of her waist leading up to the generous swell of her tits, barely contained by the plunging neckline of that dress, the heavy curves bouncing and swaying every time he pounded into her.

He couldn't stop staring. Couldn't stop drinking her in like a starving man.

Her skin gleamed under the bathroom lights, misted with sweat. Her hair was messy and wild. Her mouth was open, slack with pleasure, little moans and cries spilling from her without restraint.

And her face — fuck, her face — when he hit just the right spot deep inside her, made her eyes roll back and her lips quiver, wrecked and blissed out and so fucking beautiful he thought he might die from it.

"You're so fucking pretty like this," Kieran groaned, thrusting harder, watching her shudder and claw helplessly at the counter.

"Kiara... oh my God...!" Seraphina gasped, voice cracking.

Kieran gritted his teeth, rutting into her, **** now. His cock ached from how tight she was, how wet she was, clenching around him like she never wanted to let him go. Every movement, every noise, every flutter of her walls around him drove him closer to the edge.

"Best toy ever," Seraphina slurred, giggling again between broken gasps. "Fuck me, Kiara... fill me up..."

The words shattered what little control he had left.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, hauling her back against him, angling her hips so he could drive in deeper, rougher, until the counter squealed against the floor and Seraphina sobbed helplessly for him.

He couldn't see much over the bunched fabric, but he felt everything — the jiggle of her ass, the bounce of her tits, the way her whole body shook when he bottomed out inside her.

Her moans got higher, sharper, breathless little whimpers that turned into helpless cries.

And then he saw it — saw her face tighten, her mouth fall open, her entire body seize up around him — and he knew she was coming, knew he’d wrecked her, ruined her, made her break apart on his cock.

Seraphina screamed into the crook of her elbow, walls spasming around him, milking him.

That was it.

Kieran shoved deep one final time and came, hard, pulsing deep inside her, biting down on his own hand to muffle the ****, broken sounds tearing out of his throat.

White heat blinded him for a second. The world spun.

When he came back to himself, he was slumped over her, both of them panting, trembling messes.

Seraphina giggled again, slurring, "Mmm... best... best toy..." before her eyes fluttered closed, drunk and sated.

Kieran pressed his forehead to her sweaty shoulder, his chest heaving, his cock still buried inside her, leaking slowly.

He didn't move.

Didn't dare.

Because the second he pulled out, reality would crash back in. And for now, just for a moment longer, he could pretend.

Pretend she had wanted him.

Pretend she would still want him tomorrow.

Pretend this hadn’t been a terrible, reckless mistake.

Please, he begged silently. Please don't remember.