My New Years Resolution is to Quit

Mirren loved the way the two of you looked together. He always had. Whenever you checked yourself out in the mirror, Mirren was quick to find his place behind you. Innocent at first, just resting his head on your shoulder, his eyes scanning over you both in the reflection. Then it had started getting a little more… naughty. Not all at once, but little by little he wordlessly moved his hands. Up under your shirt, raising it enough to see your belly, his hand warm and wandering as he felt your skin. Then a little more, up over your chest while he flashed you a cheeky smile in the mirror. At that point you usually flushed and playfully wrangled your way out of his grip, both of you laughing.

Once, with a little bit of wine if your systems, he had pulled you up in front of the mirror intentionally. His cheeks flushed and a certain goal gleaming in his dark eyes. His hands guided your hips, firmly keeping you against him. One hand snaking its way underneath your shirt once more, predicably pushing it up over your chest and leaving it splayed right below your collarbone. The cold air of the farmhouse was neglible compared to the warmth of the wine coursing through your body and Mirrens own figure behind you. Your eyes take an embarrassed moment just to take it all in, for once not letting the impulse to pull away move your body. His other hand carefully, tentatively moves over your stomach on its way down to your groin. His eyes watches your own through the reflection, observing you. His hair was already messy but still tied back, his glasses fogged slightly from the heat he radiated. His hand continues, long fingers skillfully undoing the button of your pants before pulling down the zipper. Your heart beating loud enough to drown out the usual doubts you have to watching yourself like this. As he slips the tips of his fingers under the edge of your underwear, you also feel his lips connecting with the side of your neck. Soft kisses peppered along your skin, his head buried in. Yet you can see the gleam of his eyes, still watching you half lidded. Instincually, your hands softly touch his wrists, not asking him to stop but simply to touch him back. His fingers finally run over your slit, firm enough to part them and feel the wetness. You can feel him smile against you neck when he hears the soft sound you make in reaction. He continues rubbing your pussy, slowly and intentionally playing you. Observing your every facial expression and twitch. When you cant take the look anymore you finally turn your face away and close your eyes, just focusing on the pleasure as his fingers slide into you and his hand palms your chest. You hear him huff slightly, not enough to break you away from the trance he's put you under but notable when you think back to it. He doesnt let his mild disappointment stop him though, he kept working you to the edge before he pulled away and pulled you to bed with him.

This time though, after he had convinced you (quite easily) to let him take you in front of it properly he wouldnt let you look away. His hand was firmly tilting your head towards the mirror as you watch him fuck you. The other hand kept the pace, pulling you back into him over and over again. His glasses and hairtie had been messily left behind on the bed, together with the rest of your clothes. You could barely stand the feeling of baring yourself so clearly to him yet he couldnt seem to get enough. You had tried to close your eyes but he'd made it clear that wasnt an option if you wanted to finish, completely halting his pounding whenever you did. Simply leaving you pressed against him and breathing ragged in your ear, gently coaxing you to open your eyes.

"Come on… open your eyes, darling, I want you to see this…" he muttered, lovingly pressing kisses to the shell of your ear. "You look so pretty… I'll happily keep you like this all night if you're going to be stubborn, you know? But" – he pulls back slightly just to slide back in and grind you against him – "I doubt thats actually what you want…"

With only another moment to gather yourself, you open your eyes again. You watch as his own eyes widen ever so slightly with that look of delight and crazy youve seen him wear so many times before. But you only get a moment to properly observe the way he looks behind you – eyes gleaming, hair messy and falling over his shoulders and strands in his face, that dangerous smile – before he starts his pace back up. The rythmic sound of skin against skin overwhelms you and you fight the instinct to close your eyes again just to get some relief from the situation. But then you feel Mirrens hot breath against the side of your face as he pressed your upperbodies against each other in a claustrophobic grip.

"Don't close them again, please -hah- watch. I want this image burned into me, I want to imagine this over.. and over -ah- and over again… I want you to do the same. Whenever you see yourself in the mirror, -hah- I want you to think of this moment. The way my cock slips in and out of you, the way youre panting, the ways ive marked you… All of it, I need you to remember it."

He drags his hand down over your chest, catching a nipple between two fingers and playing with it, the other finding its place between your legs. His eyes catch yours, delerious and predatory.