Touch The Mirror

Lois stared at herself in the reflection...and then past herself. Beyond her shoulder, the door swung open...into another space. She could catch the flickering light of a torch reflecting on stone, see the hint of a column, over her mirror-self's shoulder. Quickly, Lois looked over her shoulder...

The door was resolutely closed.

She turned back to the mirror...and the door, reflected in the glass, was open. Her face stared back at her, and the reporter could see her own dawning awareness...and something else.

Her mirror-self's nipples were erect, little pink eraser-tips standing tall against the puffy pink areaolae. Lois leaned in close enough that her breath should fog the mirror, but it didn't—and this close she could see the other little tell-tale signs that spoke of sexual arousal. The hint of wetness between her legs. The slight blush across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, the way her eyes were dilated...

Consciously, carefully, Lois reached under her shirt and grasped a nipple. Her mirror-self did likewise. But Lois felt her nipple growing hard beneath their twirling fingertips, while in the mirror it was already hard...and the door behind her mirror-self's shoulder was open...

Still holding her nipple, with her other hand Lois reached up to touch the glass. Her fingertips met with those of her doppelganger...and there was a kind of a warmth, there, and a hardness that did not feel like glass. The reporter leaned against it...

It wasn't a sensation of falling, exactly. Only a confusion of orientation. One moment Lois was clothed, facing the glass, leaning against it—the next, she was staggering away from the mirror, facing the open doorway with its hint of fire-light. She looked down at herself, and saw that she was naked...and looked back at the mirror.

Her self—her clothed self—stared back against her there. Lois waved, and the mirror-self did the same—or was the naked Lois the reflection, and the clothed Lois the source? The reporter shook herself, uncomfortably aware of her nudity, her nipples hard and the slight trickle down her leg...and the sounds, echoing faintly from the open doorway, of feminine moans and groans, a deep-throated exultation of wordless ecstasy and animal grunts of rutting, the smack of flesh on flesh...

"Once more unto the Looking-Glass Alice..." she mumbled, as she walked toward the door.