u/699mowgli

This was inspired by u/Responsible-Week-385 and this wonderful image. So it's all her fault, really. I have a feeling there will be more...

I shouldn't be in here. I know that. But also, I couldn't not. Maybe it was the drinks. No, it was just her. We didn't talk, except for when I bought those drinks. And I probably bought too many just to be near her. But we did exchange looks. I don't know if she could read my eyes - I half hoped she could, but was also terrified it would reveal myself, and what would I say if she asked? I could read nothing from hers, except a general politeness. Not being discouraged is encouragement to me.

So I have hidden myself away, listened as the guests left, hearing the last "good night!" Heard glasses being collected, music turned off, washing machines turned on, furniture moved. Then a sudden light floods beneath curtain behind which I'm standing. She's close

A few muffled sounds I can't quite make out. I pluck up the courage to pull back the curtain, just a little, and across the corridor the door of the loo has swung wide open. The light is on. You're in there. I know it. Need stokes my courage

Silently I step out into the corridor. Edge my way forward to look inside. And there you are. And what on earth are you doing?

Trousers are pushed down your thighs. I can see the contours of your arse, the black lace emerging from between the cheeks and flaying wide to your hips. Your grey T-shirt is pulled up, and I learn the soft curves from hips to waist, the line of your spine, the dramatic arch of your ribs. I stifle a moan

Then I realise - you are photographing yourself in the mirror. And when you look at your screen and then tap, I know you are sending them to someone. There's a pang of envy, another of desire. I cannot tear myself away

You are utterly focused on yourself, how you look in the mirror, trying out poses. Then your phone buzzes and you pick it up again, and I see a smile play on your lips before your hair falls across your cheek. Hiding you from me. And perhaps me from you too

You type a reply, then put your phone on the basin's edge, and your hands reach for the hem of your T-shirt, lifting it over your head. A quick photo, leaning forward slightly, the black bra gaping slightly. I can see how the flesh softens from your collarbone towards your breasts. I want to know what your nipples look like

The photo is sent. Replied to. This time there is a giggle, an exchange of messages, then I hear a sharp intake of breath. The phone is back on the basin. The hands reach behind you, and lift off your bra. And now I know what your nipples look like. And they are straining as powerfully as my cock. God I want to touch myself. I want to touch you

You spend some time looking at the photo. Are you doubting whether to send? But then it is gone, but this time the phone stays in your hand. You look desperate to learn the reply. And when it arrives there is a gasp. First one hand covers your mouth, then your fingers go to the screen, moving the image around. Inspecting. "Fuck..." The word is plump with lust. It sends a surge from my belly to the head of my cock. Of blood. Of heat

I watch you turn back to the mirror, tug the trousers down your legs, step out of them. You push your hand into the black lace of your panties and then lift away from your body, letting just a little light in. I hear the click of the phone's camera as you point it in close. There is no hesitation this time. The photo is sent

And your hand stays in your panties. Moving. Touching. God I want to know what it's like to touch you there

The ping of a message, and the screen lights up again. "Oh my god yes. Yes." And now you're holding the phone on you, it must be recording a video. A video of your fingers entwining and pulling, the camera following the dark material down your pale legs, then following your fingers as they return, up the inside of your thigh, and they cover your mound, are shaped by it. I watch the middle finger moving softly as you send the message with the other hand; watch it move as you wait for the reply. I can feel your impatience, your need

Another reply. It is met with a sharp intake of breath, then a sigh. Your flingers glisten as they hover over the screen. Your skin is flushing with your arousal. I slide my hand into my trousers, just as yours returns to your pussy, stroking more obviously now. I can see dampness on your inner thighs. And then you turn back to the mirror to take your next image

And you see me