All characters are over 18 and willing partipants.
*
Kathryn and Robert purchased their new home a year ago. The house set back on a wooded, five acre lot, about 20 miles from the nearest town. They had fallen in love with the seventy year old, 5-bedroom, Victorian home. Sure, it needed a little work, but Robert was quite the handyman and enjoyed doing such chores. The first room he tackled was the master bedroom, refinishing the floor, stripping wall paper, replacing some of the old moldings, and putting on a fresh coat of paint. They both found antique furniture for the large room, selecting an antique wrought iron headboard and heavy wooden dressers with matching nightstands. Their prized new possession was the eighteenth century, freestanding, ornate wooden dressing mirror, positioned near the wall towards the foot of their king-sized bed. It stood almost seven feet tall, three foot wide, and was heavily carved. The old bevel edged mirror reflected unevenly and some small areas of the reflective film in the back were damaged. But, that was to be expected of a mirror of it's age. When Kathryn stood at the foot of the bed, the large mirror revealed most of the room and allowed her to twist, turn, and bend, seeing how her outfits looked from all directions. Open windows on either side of the bed faced a Sycamore tree lined driveway. They both enjoyed their beautifully secluded view.
Kathryn had always been a dreamer. Vivid images and feelings often plagued her during her sleep. She often had what she called 'Circus Dreams' that made no sense or reasoning to her. They were completely chaotic and seemed to jump from one circumstance to another, with people she hadn't ever known. Some were scary, waking her in the middle of the night, her body soaking wet from fear. But, lately, her dreams seemed all too real.
Kathryn looked at the calendar on the dressing table. "Ahhhh...It's Friday," she told herself. She and Robert were staying home for the weekend. Maybe the couple of glasses of wine would help her have a dreamless night.
As she lay there in bed, her thoughts turned to dreams of the past. It all started a few weeks ago. It had been a warm June night. From their open bedroom windows, gentle breezes blew across their nude bodies. Kathryn had pulled the sheet over herself, leaving a leg dangling out its edge. She had been sleeping while Robert began caressing her bare foot. His hand lightly stroked the top of her foot and then slid under to softly rub the insole. Tender, delicate touches moved about the bottom of her foot. They touched the pads of her toes and then slipped their way back to the insole, tracing up and down it. The fingers drifted lightly up the outer side and traced the contours of her ankle. Pulling herself from the deep sleep, Kathryn lay there enjoying the soft touches. She soon realized that she was actually awake, as the caressing continued. Lazily looking down to see Robert's gentle stroking, she saw that his hand wasn't there.
Startled, she jerked up into a sitting position, dragging her foot up next to her. Robert was softly snoring, his back to her. She sat there, trying to figure out what had just happened.
"It must have been a dream," she thought to herself. But why did it continue after she woke? Maybe she had still been in a sleeping state after she thought she had woken? There was nothing there now. All was calm. She curled up onto her side and laid back down. Pulling the sheet over her, she fell back to sleep.
The next morning, she told Robert about what happened. "I am sure you were still half asleep, honey," he comforted her. "Somewhere between sleeping and waking."
Of course, this made perfect sense to her. There could be no other explanation for it. They were alone. Robert was sound asleep. And, of course, there was no one else in the house. She let the encounter drift from her mind.
Later that day, Kathryn took a hot bath. Slipping on her robe, she walked down the hall and into the bedroom. As she passed the mirror, she thought she saw the shadowy image of a man gazing at her. Startled, she swung around and glanced throughout the room. She saw no one. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest. Quickly looking back into the mirror, she only saw herself standing there in the empty room. To ease her mind, she walked around the room and checked every corner. Nope. No one was there.
"It must be that old contorted mirror." she whispered to herself.
Now comforted that she was alone, she drew a pair of black yoga pants and a matching tank top from a drawer and tossed them onto the bed. Standing near the foot of the bed, she opened her robe and let it slip from her shoulders, cascading to the floor around her feet.
She stood there, admiring herself in the mirror. She had to admit to herself that at age 36, the years have been good to her. Her large breasts rode high above her toned tummy.
Gazing at herself, she let her palms run up her torso, cupping at her soft breasts. Her nipples hardened as she slid her hands over them and gently pinched them between her fingers. Her palms traced down between her breasts, sliding over her flat stomach, and landed on her hip bones. She studied the small, well-trimmed, triangular patch of blonde hair riding on her pubic mound and the pouty lips just beneath.
"Yes, the years have been good to me." she thought to herself.
As she turned to get the pants from the bed. Bending towards them, a barely audible moan came from nowhere.
"Robert? Are you there?" Her voice was slightly shaking.
With no reply, she remembered him saying he was going to be downstairs, sanding the hardwood floor of the living room. That must have been the sound she heard. It must have been the humming of the sander. Still naked, she sat on the end of the bed and pulled the yoga pants up her legs. Once at her thighs, she stood and tugged them over her hips. She inspected herself in the mirror once again, noting how the thin pants hugged every curve of her body. The material drew tightly between the cheeks of her butt, showing the firmness of it. The front clung tightly against the mound of her womanhood, slightly revealing the lips hidden underneath. Her hands cupped at her breasts once again.
With a smile, "No bra today," she whispered.
She then pulled the tank over her head and stretched the snug fitting garment over her body. Her nipples hardened against the fabric as she tugged the hem to her waist.
Downstairs, Robert was busy with the floor. He looked up as Kathryn came bouncing down the stairs. He watched her body move with each descending step. He felt an excitement grow in him as his imagination felt the curves of her body.
At the last step, she asked, "Are you about ready for a break? I could make us a sandwich."
Not taking his eyes from her body, Robert replied, "Sure! I would love that."
Sitting in the kitchen, Robert watched Kathryn reach up into the cupboard for a jar of peanut butter. She stretched, lifting into a toe stand. The muscles in her legs strained at the tight fitting fabric and the thin cloth hugged her beautiful ass. An instant jolt of arousal shot into his groin.
"My God, you are beautiful," he spoke as he raised and walked over behind her.
He pulled her tightly against him, revealing his thickening penis against her ass. His hands wrapped around her and lifted at her breasts, massaging at the protruding nipples gently. His lips met the back of her neck, sucking at the soft skin. Kathryn made a whimpering noise.
