Looking Glass

"Oh, my G--" she gasped, her back arched as she pressed against his face. Her fingers found his hair and gripped his scalp hard. "Don't stop. Don't stop!"

Ridge wasn't about to stop. He cupped her backside, supporting her as she rode his face to a soft little shuddering orgasm.

"I've never had a man do that to me before."

"The future is very woke," Ridge laughed. "Do you need a minute?"

"No," she rolled on him as he slid his jeans and boxers down his legs. He felt her position the head of his cock, and then he felt the warmth of her enveloping him.

"Jesus," he gasped. "Straight to business, huh?"

A soft smack of his cheek caused him to smile. "Look pretty and shut up for a minute," she moaned.

"Yes, ma'am."

~Cora~

He fit so well inside of her. As she shifted her hips forward and backward, she felt his tip move inside, making her breath catch. She looked down at his face. He was watching her enjoy herself atop him. His hands gripped her hips as she gyrated, and then he bit his lips, obviously planning something.

"What are you-- whoa!"

She was on her back in one deft move, and he was slipping inside of her. He brought her left leg up over one of his shoulders, and she felt herself stretching as he began thrusting deeply and slowly. His eyes locked with hers as he pistoned into her, his hips gently popping as he built up speed.

The room was growing hot with their exertions. She felt his sweat dripping down him onto her. It was intensely pleasing when coupled with the erotic heat of him inside of her. She clawed at his chest. She wanted to pull all of him into her while at the same time she felt so full of him.

They continued in that position until she felt herself fighting back screams.

"You're going to have me waking the neighbors," she said, fighting the intensity of the orgasm. "I don't want them thinking I'm some sort of slut."

He laughed. "Who'd call you a slut?"

"First night in the place, and I'm entertaining a strange man in my bedroom?"

"More than entertaining," he laughed, kissing under her earlobes and down her jawline. "I could do this all night."

"Well, when you put it that way," she managed to get her foot against his chest and pushed him back. She scrambled around and ended up with her lips hovering tauntingly over the head of his engorged member. "If I promise to help you find your way back in the morning, will you keep me company and make sure nothing goes bump in the night?"

She lowered her lips and closed them around the head of his cock. He was back on his elbows but then felt his head loll back as her mouth sent electricity through his hips, and he felt her tongue swirling around him. It was maddening. It was intoxicating. He could see himself cumming in her mouth and then swallowing every last drop of his load.

After taking his entire length down her throat several times, she came up to kiss him and then fell back on top of him. Once more, he was gripped, her thighs straddled him, and while she ground down, he thrust up, the two of them matching rhythm, his hands grabbing her breasts as thrust by thrust, they brought each other off.

She shuttered, and the muscles in her pussy clamped him tight. He let one great thrust of his hips be his grand punctuation as the hot explosion of his cum flooded her insides.

"Oh," she moaned.

"Christ," he agreed.

"Um," she swallowed, breathing soft, quick breaths. "Can't move now. Want to stay like this."

He nodded. "Stay as long as you like."

She laughed. "I hardly know you."

"I was thinking the same thing."

"Can we do it again?"

He laughed. "Well, give me a few minutes. Perhaps we should get some water or something?"

"Good idea. I'll fetch. You stay right where you are. Don't run away."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he laughed.

Cora sprang from the edge of the bed and grabbed her robe up from where it had fallen on the floor. She wrapped it around herself and sinched it closed, taking a quick look at her sex-flushed and satisfied features in the old mirror. Her eyes fell to the Latin placard at the bottom. She kissed her finger and touched the plaque before going across the living room to the kitchen. She took ice from the freezer and then drew water from the tap. She then considered and ran out to choose a record from her collection.

"You like Ella Fitzgerald or Frank Sinatra?" she called.

"Either," he called back. "How do you pronounce this Latin junk? Nitimur in vetitum?"

"Very good," she called, selecting Ella. She had a soft spot for how Ms. Fitzgerald handled the song, Misty. She went and retrieved the two glasses of water and returned to the bedroom. "Knock knock, lover boy," she smiled.

But he was no longer in bed. In fact, he wasn't in the room. "Ridge?" she called, back-tracking to the bathroom to see if perhaps he had ducked in there. "Oh, future man? Where'd you go?"

Ella was beginning to croon from the HiFi. Cora went back to the bedroom and set the glasses on her vanity. "Come out, come out," she laughed, moving to the walk-in closet door. She flung it open to find only her clothes and a few boxes she had left unpacked.

"Goddamn it," she said. "This isn't funny. I'm ready for another go."

She found his jeans and underwear on the floor near his ruined work shirt. It was unlikely he'd run out of the room and down the spiral stairs naked as a jaybird. She then looked in the mirror. It was slightly askew now that she looked at it. as if it had been bumped somehow.

Cora straightened the mirror and then realized that she wasn't seeing something. She wasn't seeing her own reflection. In fact, the room was dingy and old with tacky wallpaper and a bare bed with the top sheet and comforter still folded on top of it.

On the floor was Ridge. He was naked and coming out of whatever disorientation went hand in hand with surfing the quantum foam across 59 years in mere milliseconds.

"Ridge!?" she called at the mirror.

He rolled and turned. His eyes met hers in confusion. He wasn't sure what had happened. He spoke, but she couldn't hear his words.

"Ridge!" she said. "I can see you, but I can't hear you. Can you come back? Can you come back through again?"

As she called, the glass began to fog, and then her own face took the place of the image of her lover trapped behind the glass, trying to come back through to her.

She lightly smacked the glass. "Come back!" she called. Her eyes were wide with fear that somehow it had been a one-time trip that had ended abruptly.

"Find a way, Ridge. You figure it out from your side, and I'll figure it out from mine. Tomorrow. You'll be back tomorrow."