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By Nick Nicholson
The Bathroom Mirror

by Nick Nicholson © 2007

The sound of my camera gradually woke her up.

Suzy lay face down on the bed, naked, with her arms crossed above her head and a white crumpled sheet covering her legs and buttocks. The sun was up and it was already getting hot. She turned her head and looked at me with bleary eyes. 

"Hello," she said, half-awake.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

"Jay, are you taking photos of me? Again? First thing in the morning?"


"But I must look awful."

"On the contrary. I love the way you look first thing in the morning."

Her mouth curled up into a smile.

*                 *                  *

It was the first holiday we'd taken since our honeymoon two years earlier. The beach house was old and a bit rundown and none of the second-hand furniture matched, but neither of us cared. We loved it. There was a carefree atmosphere about the place as if the memories of lazy holidays long since past still hovered around. The view of the beach was mesmerising. It was perfect.

We'd arrived the afternoon before. Not a hint of breeze. The weather was so stiflingly hot that we decided to go skinny dipping in the surf once the sun had set. It didn't take long for the heat, the salt water and tumbling around in the waves to exhaust us. 

We hurried back to the beach house, towelled each other dry and threw on some loose clothes. After a quick dinner of fresh prawns and white wine, we collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep almost immediately, too tired to have sex. The overhead fan kept us cool during the night.

*                 *                  *

"Let me guess, you're gonna use a whole roll of film, aren't you? I can tell."

I smiled. "Of course I am, now that I've started..."

I moved around the room looking through the viewfinder for different angles, looking for just the right play of light on skin. Her skin.

She turned partly onto her side and stretched her arms above her head, leaving a breast exposed. A delight to look at. And photograph.

*                 *                  *

When I first photographed Suzy, she was reserved and self-conscious. She wanted to hide from the camera. But that changed once she saw the pictures. 

A look of wonder and astonishment spread over her face in the darkroom as the image appeared in the developing tray.

"Jay, is that really me?"

*                 *                  *

She casually moved a hand up to her breast and lightly touched her nipple with the tip of her finger, making it stiff. She drew spirals around it that became larger and larger, eventually circling her whole breast. Her breathing became shallower.

*                 *                  *

The photos were never shown to anyone else. Keeping it private freed her up. When the shutter opened, Suzy opened. Her truest nature came to light. It was beautiful to see. She once told me she loved the camera because it gave her permission to "be."

*                 *                  *

Her legs shifted restlessly under the sheet, twisting it into weird, beautiful shapes.

"This sheet is making me hot!"

"Mmm...I can see."

She kicked off the sheet in a flurry and as soon as she was untangled she squirmed and writhed around on the bed, revelling in her own nakedness.

Seeing her like that inspired me. I fired the shutter without looking through the viewfinder. I didn't want things to be too planned. I wanted spontaneity. I wanted the unpredictable, the imperfect. I wanted life.

Her hands strayed all over her body, caressing her arms, the silky skin on her stomach. She gripped and squeezed and massaged her breasts.

She rolled onto her stomach, pushed her arse into the air and made grinding movements with her hips. The pillow stifled her moans.

Onto her back again, legs spread wide. Her fingers travelled down to her thighs, brushing over the little dab of pubic hair on the way.

I kept moving, going with the flow. In closer, shooting, stepping back, shooting. The camera seemed to dictate what it wanted to do. It wasn't my doing anymore. The pictures created themselves. My cock twitched.

She turned over again onto her belly and pulled her knees up and apart. Her cunt - that glorious cunt - was on show.

The morning sun streamed through the window now, bathing Suzy in light. Her fingers appeared between her thighs and stroked her pink lips, dipping inside occasionally, then slipping out and teasing her clit. Her breathing developed into an urgent panting.

"Jay, I think it's about time you came over here and fucked me."

I looked at Suzy there on the bed, arse in the air, cunt open, and put the camera down on the floor. Seconds later my shorts were off. I climbed onto the bed and knelt behind her, my cock stiff and waiting. 

She reached between her legs, lightly stroked my thighs and positioned my cock at the edge of her cunt. I gripped her arse as I slid inside, filling her in one smooth motion. Her body relaxed and she groaned with pleasure. A rhythm took hold of us and we settled into a deep sexual groove.

Humidity. Fucking. Skin sticky with sweat. 

I slammed into her over and over, each thrust a little bit harder than the last, making a wet slapping sound every time my groin hit her arse. 

It didn't take long. Cock and cunt, both slick with juices, tipped over into hot, energetic orgasms, first mine, then hers. 

For a while after, I kept rocking back and forth inside her, still hard. Then, worn out, we dropped onto the bed in a sweaty heap.

I reached down and picked up the camera.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" said Suzy.

"It's a moment I don't want to forget."

*                 *                  *

I walked into the bedroom carrying a box full of books. There were boxes everywhere. We had just moved house. Suzy sat cross-legged on the floor with something in her lap.

"Jay, come and have a look at this."

I put the box down and peered over her shoulder. She was leafing through an album of black and white photographs. They were the photographs from that beach holiday, long ago. There she was, all nakedness and light, captured in slices of time.

"God, how long ago was this?" she said, a sad tone in her voice.

"Let's see...fourteen...fifteen years." 


Her voice trailed off into a wistful silence. I cast my mind back and remembered the deliciousness of that particular morning. I never did forget.

"I used to look pretty good, didn't I?" She touched the photographs with her fingertips, as if touching them might take her back, make it real again. 

I put my arm around Suzy's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. Her eyes were a little watery so I decided to give her some space and leave her to her thoughts for a while. 

A few minutes later, I came back.

© 2007 Nick Nicholson. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

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