Behind The Mirror (The Chronicles of Enhanced Males Book 3)

by Doc King

  - Wow! – she sighs once my throbbing dark cock is in front of her in its full size.

  She wraps her thin, long fingers around it and then puts it in her mouth. I moan loudly as she blows it. She does it so well I feel like my brain is about to explode with pleasure. She stops at one point, wipes her mouth and gets up.

  - Come. – she offers me her hand.

  My pants and boxers are wrapped around my ankles. I take them off so I don’t trip. I take only the wallet with condoms and my phone. Force of habit.

  Melinda takes me upstairs and into the bedroom. She fucks me there, on a spacious antique bed, like no one has ever fucked me before. I know that all of her demons are now standing by the bed and watching us. Somewhere in there is the late Russell Aldridge, watching us from the corner, just like he did while he was alive, unable to do anything about it.

  But none of this matters to me. My mind is cumming for the hundredth time, as the harmonious movements of her wet pussy make me one with the universe.

  At a certain point, I reach for my phone.

  - You don’t mind? – I want to immortalize a moment of the best sex I’ve ever had.

  She shakes her head, moaning. I take several pictures of her riding me. Melinda then goes down between my legs and smiles as she takes my penis like a mike. She starts singing some old tune I’ve never heard before. I record her as she does it.

  - Garth, how’s my singing, huh? Should I apply for American Idol?

  I smile and give her the thumbs up. She takes my dick in her mouth again. I’m still recording. While blowing it, she jerks it hard with her hand, pulling the testicles up. I moan. It’s a matter of seconds before I cum. I guess she sees that I’ve rolled my eyes and pulls my dick out of her mouth. The sperm splashes across her forehead and hair. She puts it in her mouth again and licks everything that didn’t end up on her face.

  About an hour later, I’m in a cab, on my way to Lincoln. Melinda offered me to spend the night at her place, but I came up with tons excuses why I can’t. I promised I’d say hello to Bryan for her when I see him. I have an awful feeling in my stomach. I’m disgusted with myself for doing this. But I had to. I’m trying to convince myself that’s true.

  It’s already dark when I get out of the cab. There aren’t any flights till tomorrow, so I decide to look for a hotel to spend the night.

  ***

  The ugly feeling is still there the next day. As I’m standing in line for my flight to New York, I reach for my phone to turn it off. However, instead of pressing the power button, my finger slides to the pictures folder. In the five pictures I took you can clearly see Melinda riding me. I’m not in the picture, apart for the cock. There’s also the clip of Melinda singing. It’s all in the folder I named “Bryan”. I press the trash can button above it. Are you sure?

  - Sir.

  I look up. The stewardess is looking at me.

  - Sir, please, you’re holding up the line.

  I turn off the phone and board the plane.

  I try to read. But I can’t. I close my eyes, but in vain. I’m not sleepy. Nor am I sitting next to the window, so I could look at the clouds. I look around the plane. Everyone is either asleep or have their nose in a book. I have to find a way to kill time; otherwise, I’m in for a three-and-a-half-hour hell of a guilty conscience. I realize I could work out. It’s not the smartest idea in the world, but I can’t think of a better way to keep myself occupied. Besides, no one will notice anyway.

  I turn around to check if there are any stewardesses around. I can’t see them behind the curtain. I get up and walk slowly towards the bathroom. In there, I lock the door and drop my pants to my ankles. I’ll do some stretches, because I have neither time not the necessary conditions for jelqing. I decide to do the shaft section stretching, an exercise that lets you work on different parts of the penis in a quick and simple way, by isolating them in reps. Unlike the standard stretching exercises, which focus on the ligaments, shaft section stretching also stretches and develops the tissue. Thus, it helps you gain length, but also girth of flaccid penis.

  I do this exercise by wrapping my right hand around the penis, right below the glans, making an OK sign. I stretch the penis forward a bit. Using my left hand, I make an OK sign around the base of the penis, by pressing the hand as tightly as possible to the pubic bone. I stretch the penis with my right hand as much as I can, until I feel the strain, and then I hold it like that for five seconds.

  I loosen my right hand and wrap the left one around the middle of the penis. I repeat the stretching with my right hand and hold it for five seconds. Finally, I place the left hand just below the right and stretch the penis again, holding the stretch for five seconds. That’s it. One rep.

  I usually do the section stretching right after the standard stretching exercises, in two or three sets. I often do it independently, especially when I want to save time, like today. Then you can do more reps. I plan to do five of them in the restroom today.

  In the middle of the third rep, I feel some kind of buzzing in my ears. The strength from my head and the upper part of my body is sliding down to my legs. Suddenly, everything goes black.

  I’m awakened by the knocking. I rest on my elbows. Where am I? My vision is blurry. I’m in some small room resembling a closet. I hear the knocking again.

  - Sir? Is everything all right? – I hear a distant voice.

  It’s coming from the other side of the door. I can see clearly again, so I realize where I am. The plane restroom.

  I open the door. There’s a stewardess in front of the toilet, with a concerned look on her face.

  - Are you all right?

  - I am... I just felt a bit lightheaded.

  - Thank goodness. I was about to call the captain…

  She looks down at my crotch and blushes all over. I look down, too. Makes sense. Even flaccid, my dick really is an impressive sight.

  Instead of screaming, cursing, and running off to the captain to accuse me of public indecency, the young stewardess just pushes me back into the restroom with her both hands. I almost trip on the pants and boxers that are around my ankles. She locks the door behind her and starts unbuttoning her shirt. She’s wearing a black bra, but just for a moment, because soon it’s on the floor, revealing a pair of beautiful small breast with large dark nipples. She lets her hair down in one swift movement and presses her lips against mine. She kisses like a leech. I turn her over to the sink. I lift her leg and here a seam on her tight skirt breaking.

  - Wait… - she says with a moan.

  Her skirt slides down to the floor, together with black lace panties. She’s got narrow hips and a small butt. The hairs above her pussy are trimmed in the shape of a rectangle.

  - Finally... – this time I moan.

  - What?

  - Nothing... – I bite her lip so we would both be quiet.

  Now isn’t the time to be explaining her my frustration with modern fashion trends regarding the intimate area. For years, women have been waging a real war against hairs, so they shave and wax and burn with insane diligence in order to be as smooth as possible down there. But pubic hairs are what gives the pussy some character. Shaven, they all look alike. Completely faceless.

  But I don’t want to bore the sweet stewardess with my philosophy. I put her legs on my shoulders and press her against the small sink. She covers her mouth with her hand in order to silence the moans. She holds the other one around my neck, pulling me closer. The walls of the toilet are rumbling with our movements. Someone is banging on the door again.

  - Christine? – it’s the voice of the other stewardess.

  Christine moves her hand from her mouth and uses it to support herself against the sink.

  - Just a minute... – she says with a moan.

  She looks at me, smiles, and bites her lip. She tilts her head and her sighs get more and more frequent. My hips follow the rhythm of her sighs. As she cums, she sinks her nails into my shoulders and I let out a soft cry.
<
br />   She goes down from the sink and gets down on her knees.

  - Are you close? – she asks me and I just nod.

  I cum as soon as she puts it in her mouth. She spits out the sperm into the toilet and flushes. She puts her clothes on incredibly quickly and skillfully, as if she’s done this before. She unlocks the door and turns back to me.

  - Got a gum maybe?

  I shake my head.

  - That’s ok. I’m sure Alex does. – she smiles and goes out.

  I wash myself quickly and put on my pants, before someone walks in again. I’m go back to my seat, and everyone’s still sleeping or reading. No one’s even noticed I was gone. I sit down and take a few deep breaths, still wondering what just happened. My whole body is vibrating with a pleasant feeling of tiredness. The altitude makes my blood pressure go low again and I finally feel drowsy.

  - Sir. – half-asleep I hear someone’s voice calling me.

  Once the haze before my eyes clears up, I look up and see Christine.

  - You again. – I smile.

  - Fasten your seatbelt. We’re about to land. – she winks at me and smiles back.

  I watch her as she walks away and then fasten my belt. I lean back into my seat with my eyes shut, waiting for the wheels to touch the runway.

  ***

  - How’s your mom doing? – asks Laura on Monday morning, with a worried expression on her face.

  - Fine. She’s doing fine. – I smile at her. – Thanks for caring.

  She smiles back with relief. Probably because I sound like my old self again.

  - Greg called. I explained the situation.

  – Ok. I’ll get back to him. Thanks. – I smile once again and walk into my office.

  Five minutes later, in comes Angela with the same question as Laura’s. She’s worried, too, but she brightens up as soon as I say everything is fine. Still, I notice that her smile is rather faint. Her face looks serious again.

  - I shouldn’t be telling you this… But I care about you, Mark, so I have to.

  - Go ahead.

  - Bryan...

  - Yes?

  - He’s discussing the revision of your project with the board, again. He’s searching for weaknesses. I think he’s ready to go all the way this time… And I think that the board will be on his side.

  - What’s changed since the last time?

  - Now I know he’s not doing it for the sake of company’s interests… But that he’s set out to destroy you.

  - Will you at least put in a good word for me?

  - I already did, Mark. But… - her chin is quivering. – I hope you’ve got something up your sleeve that will make them change their mind.

  She bows her head and walks towards the door. She opens them and turns to me once again.

  - Good luck, Mark.

  - Thank you, Angela. – I know she means it.

  I call Greg right away.

  - Hey, Mark.

  He’s in the car; I can hear Rachmaninoff in the background.

  - How’s your mom doing?

  - She’s fine, thanks for asking.

  - Good, I got worried when I heard you had to fly off to Minnesota that urgently.

  - Thanks, but everything is fine. – I sigh. – Listen, Greg… I wonder how far you’ve come with the negotiations.

  - I’m meeting Mancuso next week. Don’t worry. I think that everything will turn out just fine.

  - Nothing sooner?

  - Why, Mark?

  - Oh, it’s a mess in here again… Involving our project.

  - That son of a bitch... He’s up to something again?

  - Yes. That’s why I need something as soon as possible.

  - I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.

  - Thanks, Greg.

  I feel my pulse racing. I mustn’t panic. I must keep a cool head. Be focused, otherwise I’m doomed. I pull the phone out of my pocket. I once again open the folder with the recording of the sex with Bryan’s mother. The folder I tried erasing over and over again during the weekend, but gave up every time.

  I look at the slim body on the screen, the blue cat eyes looking at the camera half-closed with desire, her biting her lips or smiling with pleasure.

  I play the clip. Turn the volume down. Melinda’s singing holding my cock in her hand.

  - Garth, how’s my singing, huh? Should I apply for American Idol?

  I turn of the video. I can’t wait for Greg. My life and career are at stake. I’ve got an ace up my sleeve.

  Once I go on a break, I go out of the building. Two blocks away is a small internet club. I often wondered why that kind of places existed, now that almost everyone owns a smartphone and can access the Internet everywhere. As I cross the street, I’m grateful for the fact that this place is still open. At least until I do what I’ve planned.

  The club is empty. The only person inside is a young girl who works there. I sit at the computer no. 7. At the back end of the yellow-stained computer case, the cooler is making such a loud buzzing sound that I feel like the computer is just about to take off. It’s hot and stuffy inside. I feel sweat running down my spine and my shirt beginning to stick to my back.

  Luckily, the computers have no protection software blocking access to certain sites and servers. It’s all available, so I first set up a proxy connection. It takes me about ten minutes. Then I set up an anonymous e-mail account and open the new message window. In the field To: I type Bryan’s business email address. In the subject field I type: Attention: Whore!

  Wordplay. And not a tasteful one. I erase it, but then type it in again. What I’m doing is far from tasteful, but necessary. I attach three photos of my sex with Bryan’s mother. I want to type a suitable message, but I can’t think of anything to write. So I just click the send button.

  Ok. Now I wait. And observe.

  Bryan is not in his office. He’s still on a break. I go wandering around the halls. Walk upstairs, just to kill time. I finally see Bryan going out of the elevator and towards his office. I stand it the hallway behind a wall, hidden behind the water cooler, so I can have a clear view of Bryan’s desk and still remain unnoticed. I can see him talking on the phone. He’s looking at his computer screen. He’s holding the mouse in the other hand and scrolling down. And then, at one point, he stops. His eyes go wide and lips become a crooked line. He turns so pale he looks like there’s not a drop of blood in his body, and then, suddenly, he turns red like a lobster. He loosens his tie and gets up from the desk. I sneak off towards my office. I turn around the corner, towards the restrooms, and continue peeking behind the wall. Bryan is outside. He’s standing with his hands on his hips and looking around, breathing deeply. He’s beside himself with rage. That’s it. I slowly walk backwards, so he doesn’t notice me. I’ll hide in the restroom until the storm passes. As soon as I turn around at the door, I run into Matt Dobkins.

  - Mark, why are you sneaking around like that?

  - For fuck’s sake, Matt, do you ever do anything? You spend the whole day in that restroom.

  He opens and closes his mouth like a fish several times, not knowing what to say. I don’t wait for his response, but walk into the first booth and lock myself in. The adrenaline catches up on me then and I start to shiver all over. I start sweating. I put my hand over my mouth so no one hears me and start laughing like crazy.

  The same night, at home, I set up a new email account and send the remaining two photos to Bryan. In the message I write: “Do you miss her?” In the morning, I keep an eye on his reaction. This time, he doesn’t go out of the office. He’s biting his fist as he looks at the screen. He closes his eyes and bang his other hand against the table. Then he bows his head and buries it in his hands. I feel bad. But I can’t stop now.

  The next day, while he’s on a break, I send him an email with the clip attached and a message saying: “Lovely voice, isn’t it?” When he comes back from the break, after he opens the email, he’s as pale as a corpse, but is surprisingly calm. He gets up
from the desk and I sneak off to the restroom again. I lock myself up in a booth. A couple of seconds later, I hear somebody’s steps in the restroom. I climb up on the toilet and press my hands against the walls. The steps stop in front of my booth. Someone’s trying to open the door. My heart starts racing. The door to the next booth squeaks. I hear a muffled sound coming from there, like a long eeeee. This silent cry soon turns into a howl, and my booth starts shaking with hands banging against the walls. A shiver goes down my spine, because I know who’s inside.

  A few minutes later, Bryan goes stumbling out. I hear the water running and his steps disappearing in the distance.

  I wait for a few more minutes and head towards my office. I take a cursory look at Bryan’s office. He’s not there. He’s not there half an hour later when I go upstairs to see Liu. He’s not there fifteen minutes later when I walk back.