Jordy’s mirror show

I watch Jordy through the screen as he positions himself between two mirrors, one in front and one below, like he’s arranging an altar. His breath hitches when he catches my eye, his cock already leaking just from the thought of me watching. This isn’t vanity. This is devotion.

"Tell me what you see," I murmur, and his whole body shivers. He obeys instantly. One hand trails down his chest, pinching a nipple to show me how sensitive he is. The other reaches back, spreading himself wide so I can see every inch of that pretty pink hole he’s trained just for me.

"Yours," he whimpers, rocking back onto his fingers like he can’t help it. "Every part. Every fucking inch."

And god, does he mean it. The mirror below catches the way his balls tighten when I growl "Deeper." The one in front shows his lips parting around silent pleas as he fucks himself messy and desperate. He’s not just showing off. He’s proving it. That his sweat is mine. That his cum is mine. That even when I’m not there to claim him in person, his reflection still begs for my hands, my cock, my ownership.

And the best part? He’ll do it again tomorrow.