Not That Kind of Girl (erotica)

Mirrored Image

There wasn't any part of her body that she liked, let alone loved. Her breasts were too small, not at all like the big, bouncy boobs of the models and actresses that boys her age fantasized about. "You'll be glad when you're my age," her mom told her (she also was small on top). "Those boobies will be perky until the day you die." She had no idea if that was true about her mom and had no interest in finding out.

Her stomach was pretty flat but it was just kind of blah. It was OK, she guessed, but it's not like she had abs. It was just a basic, everyday stomach. Nothing to write home about.

She had no hips. Don't even try to argue about that. Many still tried, though. Her curvier friends said they wished they could be as thin as her but she felt like a boy most of the time. She wanted their curves. They wanted her waist. Isn't that always the way?

Her legs were twigs. Pale twigs. Long but still pale twigs. Maybe they could look decent if they were tan but she didn't tan. She burned.

She turned her head and noticed that there were mirrors. A few of them, in fact. She was surprised she didn't notice them at first because they really were pretty obvious. First, there was the floor length to the right of her as she faced the sofa. Then there was the mirror on the wall. She could look in the first and see the reflection of both Ted and Gus in the second. It reminded her of how her hair stylist would have her use a hand mirror to look at the back of her hair after it was cut.

Her reflection shown right in the middle of the mirror. With her back arched like this, posterior lifted high, she had to admit she didn't look half bad. Her ass did look pretty round like this. Nice and round. She hoped the men were enjoying it.

She liked that she could turn the tables and watch them. "Can they tell that I can see them?" she wondered. Ted was over by Gus, whispering instructions into his ear. Gus nodded and walked over closer to her with a camera.

He was only a few feet from her taking pictures. She felt so vulnerable like this, her bottom in the air, not knowing if she was doing it right. "Why aren't they talking to me?" she worried. They must like what they're seeing if they are taking so many shots, right?

Ted finally spoke again, "Very nice, Vanessa. I'm really loving you like this." In the mirror, she watched him walk close to her and stare. "Just a few more shots and we'll have you change into another outfit."

She was glad this part was almost over. Her forearms were getting tired from leaning on them for so long. She never would've complained, though. She wasn't making a move unless Ted told her to.

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