Reflections

You didn’t mean to look at the mirror. Not really. But now you can’t look away. You’re watching yourself — watching us — unfold in the reflection. Every thrust, every moan, every flicker of skin-on-skin caught in the glass. This isn’t just sex anymore. It’s a film. A fantasy. A loop of want, rhythm, and heat, playing out in real-time and reflection. And maybe… just maybe… it’s better this way.