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Mirror, Mirror

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The (Authoress’s note: of course all disclaimers are still in place regarding characters etc. This is only a fantasy story. I only wish there is enough here to make each of you happy. To those who have given me constructive criticisms as well as those with praise thanks. If you don’t like the story that’s understandable but please be kind in your critique. Lauren Westley.

A lifetime seems to become shorter when you reach fifty-five; also known as the double nickel. My twenty-year marriage had ended in divorce and since we had been a childless couple I didn’t contest incompatibility. If I had been more honest with myself I probably would never have married. It wasn’t sexless but it was without passion.

During our divorce my last parent had passed away. Mother had outlived my Dad by nearly ten years and since I had no siblings I inherited what little estate remained. The most valuable was the deed to a small ranch house with no mortgage outside Tupelo, Mississippi. As nondescript as the house is it was still my home. In settling the divorce I had not wanted anything from our house in Auburn Georgia but instead found my mother’s furnishings quite adequate.

It took awhile for me to decide to move from my room to refurnishing the master to my liking. I had the bathroom redone having taken an adjacent room and joining it to make a wonderful modern, large bathroom. During the renovation an old door to a closet revealed a mirror had been covered over by plywood and painted on the other side. It was a beautiful beveled antique mirror. Over the years it had crackled a bit but my decorator and I decided it would make a wonderful full-length mirror for the new bathroom.

No bathtub had been installed since I’ve taken showers since I was a young boy despite my mental proclivity. You see, ever since I could remember I had mentally thought of myself as having been a woman but when I explain what I look like you’ll understand why I buried the idea deep in a hidden and private area of my brain.

At fifty-five I stand six foot tall and weigh 230 pounds. I’m big and hairy except for my head, which is balding with plenty of white and gray with what remains. I am what you call a bear of a man.

One night, after I had showered, as I stood on the limestone floor in front of my antique mirror looking at the somewhat crackled mirror reflection of me my mind concentrated on seeing my hairy mans’ body and at the same time thinking of the girl I dreamed I should have been. Holding my second vodka martini with my naked body in the mirror I momentarily was shocked when I looked down at my feet and for a moment thought I saw feminine toes with red toenail polish.

That night I dreamt a dream from back in my childhood when I visited my cousins. Christina was three years older then David and I. I stayed there for a week. For some reason I Kartal Yabancı Escort ended up in Christina’s room. I remember looking in her drawer and finding a simple pair of white satin panties. I put them on and I felt so good. And then I put them back in the draw and pressed all those thoughts deep into my mind as I pressed the panties flat as if squeezing out my unholy thoughts. For my lifetime I only remembered them from time to time.

However this night I dreamt of being in that room with the pastel colors; a smell of jasmine wafting through the air as I saw myself as Christina and not as Bobbie, my mind awake but my body asleep. The night was electric with my dream. I’m sure you’ve had vivid dreams. This was one of those. I awoke in the morning disappointed and got back to the reality of my job and boring life. By early afternoon my thoughts turned back to the day before and I assured myself I would do exactly the same thing as yesterday and see what may happen.

Even though my mind was elsewhere I saw my big hairy hands complete my workload early and since I wasn’t an hourly employee I decided to go home at four pm. The ride in my vintage wreck of a Honda Civic kept me in both anticipation and suspense. As I drove I thought if I were Christina I wouldn’t drive this heap. Instead I’d have a Mercedes convertible; white with red leather interior. I’d have blond hair, blue eyes and a skirt riding up my thighs. But here I was, David driving this Civic wearing Sam’s Club clothing. Even my no name sneakers told the story of my sorry ass.

Arriving home I lumbered out of the dinged up Civic and walked to my front door. The door was the only outward sign of another me. In a nondescript neighborhood of homes I had painted the door a glossy shade between watermelon and plum. It was an oddity on my street but when I was asked why I would reply, “the color was on sale.” But it was a feminine touch for such a bachelor pad.

Home at last with my outlandish colored door closed behind me I took stock of my meager abode. Since this house had been my mom’s the living room furniture was old and worn but since my Mom a decorator it had her look. The sofa was green worsted wool and the stuffed chairs a plaid of yellow and brown. Actually it looked atrocious. I guess I knew where my door color came from genetically.

My bedroom was a different story. I had done the whole thing in black and white. It was a neither here nor there scheme and without a gender orientation, modern Spartan. I removed my clothes laying them on the bed and walked naked into the bathroom. Avoiding the mirror I turned on the shower and while waiting for the water to warm brushed my teeth. The one good asset I had. They were white, straight and created a nice smile. In the mirror above the sink I could see my five o’clock shadow, which had arrived as usual Kartal Yeni Escort early. Washing my legs my fingers glided over the thick testosterone follicles.

All clean I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off. The mirror above the sink showed a middle-aged man who had aged badly. There was no growing old gracefully for me. I had simply grown old. It’s funny how my mind and my body didn’t match as if God had played a cruel trick on me.

I caught an odd glimpse of my butt reflected in the mirror above my sink reflecting from the antique mirror behind. But I didn’t see my flat butt. Instead as I looked I saw a perfectly rounded feminine ass. I could only see the left-hand side but I saw enough to see the curvature of my waist and hairless thigh.

Shocked I stood longer looking then you’d expect. I was amazed. Awed.

Over the next week I would return to my mirror each night. Spending more and more time looking at the beautiful me. When I touched my body she touched hers. It wasn’t mine because my hands felt my balls and penis as she felt her Venus mound and pussy.

Each night I got to know her body and it was exquisite. I fail at the words to express what I saw. The words seem so mundane comparatively but here is whom I saw. Judging from my height I estimate her to be 5’7″, small frame, perhaps 115 pounds. I don’t know her cup size but they appear as if sculpted by the gods to perfection. When my hands lifted my chest I could tell how lush they would feel as her hands mimicked mine. Her nipples were moderate pink toned with wonderful areolas. To look at her skin was to think she was photo shopped. The only blemish on her skin was a small beauty mark, a mole, just to the left of her small blond patch of hair above her mon pubis and although her skin was a radiant white it seemed obvious her skin would tan a golden bronze.

Her arms and legs showed feminine muscularity. Her face was strikingly beautiful. Full-unpainted lips radiating a pouting sensuality captivated my eyes.

I spent hours before the mirror studying her and she seemed to be studying me, a mirror image. Her calves were turned so femininely with light blond fuzz and what appeared cotton like in texture. And although I couldn’t smell her I imagined her scent to be a mixture of honey and lavender.

The days at work blurred while my nights and weekends were full with an emotional rapture I can’t describe. At work I worried she’d be gone but fortunately she was there when I got home.

Everything changed one Friday evening while I standing looking at her. I was very close, within inches, to the mirror. A small smudge on the mirror blurred one of her areola. I reached out to rub it clean when something truly amazing happened. My forefinger reached for the mirror and so did hers. Our fingers didn’t stop at the mirror but instead Kartal Masaj Salonu rippled through the mirror and I was touching her nipple and she mine. The shock was mental electric. My minds so shocked I pulled my hand back quickly and began to perspire. Shaking I left the bathroom scared, excited and emotionally drained.

Saturday morning I got up. I didn’t even go to the bathroom. Instead I got dressed and went out for the whole day. And although all I thought about was what had happened the night before I stayed away from the mirror until Sunday morning. Drawn like a moth to a fire I walked over to the mirror after showering. She was still there. Dripping wet like I was. Her blond hair darkened wet shedding water droplets onto her breasts.

What should I do? What would happen if? And as if lightening flashed across my synapses a decision and action formulated and became action. I walked into the mirror and she walked out into my bathroom. I turned watching myself leave my bathroom and I realized I was now her. The mirror changed from showing my bathroom to simply reflecting my new body. And as much as I was now who I always wanted to be I was also scared. I wondered how this mirror worked. Why wasn’t she there while I was standing here? What had happened?

I walked naked with an unimaginable feeling. The whole movement of my body was different. It was so much more then just the movement and awareness of my breasts. Wandering through her place, now my place, I found I was in a one-bedroom apartment with no windows and no doors. There was a closet full of beautiful dresses and dresser full of erotic lingerie. There was a kitchen with a dining area. The bathroom was large with a vanity and it was in the drawer on the right of the vanity I found this note later that day.

“I have been stuck here for nearly 60 years waiting for someone to change places with. Every day and every night I would come to the mirror hoping someone would be there. Finally you arrived. I have very little to tell you except this. You must learn everything about being a woman including menstruation, cramps, mood swings but fortunately you cannot get pregnant. If you are successful windows and doors will magically appear and you will find yourself in a world where you are the only woman. You have thirty days to accomplish this. If you are not successful the mirror will disappear and you will still be what you are. The mirror is your only hope to find a way out of here. And although I will have the mirror boarded up again someday someone will find it and you may be able to entice them to do what I enticed you to do. The mirror seems to only works when the owner is alone looking into it. I don’t really know how the magic works but I know it pulled me in some sixty years ago. Whether you take the next thirty days seriously or not the men will come on the thirty-first day. You will learn to please the very many seductive and perverted pleasures of men with your body. Without the mirror it could be for eternity. The first thing for you to do is pick a name and write it in the red leather bound book you’ll find on the top shelf of the bookcase. Serena.

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