【Mirror Girl】

I

started tidying up my room.

A few hours ago, we broke up, and I was back in the single life.

After my ex-girlfriend took all her things, everything in the room looked out of place:

two-thirds of the closet was empty, so I had to hang my few pairs of trousers and shirts scattered around; the light blue bath towels hanging on the bathroom

towel rack now took up the entire iron rod; the doorway was spacious enough that I no longer needed to

awkwardly lean my sneakers and dress shoes against the wall.

While tidying up, I swept and mopped the floor, sweeping up a lot of long, thin black

hair, the kind of hair that girls never seem to stop shedding. I dumped it into the trash can, but like before, while mopping

, I also got a few strands of long hair tangled in the mop that I couldn't sweep away. The difference was that the hair remained, but the person who left

those strands was gone.

It was a perfectly good holiday, yet I stared blankly at the TV. The screen flickered with

images of comedic guests from Japanese variety shows, accompanied by loud laughter, but I couldn't remember a single person or

what they said.

It was all because I was too selfish, loving myself far more than I cared for her.

The breakup at this time was simply because someone else happened to come along who was willing to put her first; there's nothing more to say

.

And I wasn't really sad, really.

I only needed a few days to adjust to the freedom and joy of being alone, and the extra few hours

each day . Then I could leave the loneliness behind and fill the blank hours I didn't know how to spend

.

I turned off the TV, went downstairs to the convenience store across the street, bought a coffee to replenish my sugar and combat the almost

complete exhaustion, and browsed the comic book store, hoping to read some of the new releases to while away this

suddenly empty Saturday afternoon.

"This news is outrageous!"

As I looked down at the covers of the new magazines on the counter, trying to decide which ones to read,

the older woman tending the shop suddenly spoke to the customer next to her.

"Yeah, it's really outrageous. Didn't their parents tell them? This is practically incest between siblings."

Their conversation caught my attention, and my gaze drifted to the TV on the counter. The headline, in large print,

read: "Parents Divorced and Separated Since Childhood

, Twin Siblings Fall in Love and Engage in Incest," a very direct and sensational headline, but it certainly conveyed that this was a

truly shocking news story.

"The sister committed suicide because she was opposed to being with her brother. That's so tragic."

The man standing to my left, sipping his bubble tea, repeated

the , adding his own thoughts.

"If they have a child, it'll definitely be deformed!"

The younger woman at the counter chimed in. Deformed? I thought incest was illegal, wasn't it? "

Ah, my family will probably object, and we can't get married anyway. Should we list them as

siblings ?"

That's a good question! The child could be listed as nephew or niece, but that's irrelevant to me—

my parents aren't separated, and besides my younger sister, I don't have any other

twin sisters I've kept secret from since childhood. Let the person involved worry about that.

I finished reading the latest volume of the Japanese manga "Delicious Challenge" at the store. This manga is amazing!

It uses a very serious and earnest approach to the subject of food, yet it manages to reach over fifty volumes

. Most food manga start boasting about exaggerated cooking techniques or magical cooking

gadgets after less than ten volumes. And the most amazing thing is that the protagonist isn't some kid aspiring to be a top chef or a reformed delinquent

who becomes a chef, but a small-time reporter who makes a living by doing odd jobs.

After finishing the comic, I rode my bike to Chung-Yu Department Store and "Yi-Chung Street" near Taichung First Senior High School.

I wandered aimlessly, really wanting to buy a pair of boots, but it's summer now and I might get athlete's foot if I wore them, so I had to say goodbye to the friendly

shop assistants .

On a Sunday afternoon, Yi-Chung Street was indeed full of couples strolling around, most carrying fried chicken cutlets or

braised snacks in one hand, their other arm around each other's waists, holding hands. I, on the other hand, had a cheap

200 , hands in my pockets, not exactly fitting into the romantic atmosphere of a Saturday afternoon

.

After dinner, I went home and turned on my computer, letting the screen play an adult video of an actress screaming exaggeratedly,

but I realized I had no interest. Disappointed, I turned it off and lay on my single bed, looking at

the air conditioner quietly embedded in the windowpane.

The air conditioner will probably collect dust by now, won't it? Without her, I don't even turn on the air conditioning. I only

run the ceiling fan on the hottest nights. Spending all day in the office with the air conditioning on makes my temples

ache like they're being twisted by a thumb. Unless I'm holding her, which makes my body temperature rise even higher, the air conditioning is just for decoration.

Clutching the thin blanket, I don't care if my exposed skin gets bitten by mosquitoes; I just want

someone to hug, otherwise I definitely won't be able to sleep tonight.

*

I'm holding her warm body, her soft hair tickling my nose. Such a familiar embrace, so warm. I never imagined

that even in my dreams I could see her, who has long since left my embrace, in my bed because I can't forget her.

But it should all just be a dream; real life is too disappointing, unlike the sweetness of dreams.

Her body temperature is so real! Even the scent wafting from her hair was that lemon-scented shampoo. Afraid that opening

my eyes would wake me from this dream, I kept them tightly shut. Even if it was just a dream, I wanted to hold her one last time, my arms wrapped tightly

around her, inhaling the fragrance deeply, feeling the warmth of her body against my hands.

She shifted in my arms, and I felt her turn to face me. Her small breasts pressed against my

body, her cheek against the top of my chest, my chin against her forehead, and her right hand

resting on my waist, gently caressing the skin exposed outside my clothes.

Only she knew that place so well, knew how it aroused my body, quickened my pulse

, and sent blood rushing to my lower abdomen.

My left hand instinctively slipped under her clothes, grasping her firm, slender waist, and I lowered my head to offer my lips.

And it seemed she was waiting for me. Her tongue slipped through my lips, teasing and licking my tongue, my

passion, but unlike before, it didn't fiercely scratch my gums; it simply focused on intertwining with mine.

Before I could even focus on her, my shorts were slowly pulled down, revealing my lower abdomen. A

warm little hand slipped into my crotch, grasping it, pulling out my briefs, and gently stroking it, one stroke at a time.

My excitement reached my mouth, greedily sucking on the sweet saliva, and she, too, craved me. I kneaded

her large breasts, which I could easily hold in my palm, making her suppress her gasps.

I casually pulled up the short-sleeved shirt covering her beautiful body and took it off. Just as I was about to hug her again,

she slid down, bringing her face close to my waist, sticking out her tongue to lick what was in her hand, covering it with her warm lips

, and taking it in. She was careful not to let her teeth poke at it, more skilled than ever before, as

perfect as a dream.

The constant, warm teasing made me grab her arms, pulling her light, soft body onto my

back as I lay there. She wasn't surprised at all; she moved closer, kneeling on my lap,

lifting my shirt, and sucking on my chest, her tongue slowly pressing against my nipples, moistly licking them

—a rhythm that didn't make me itch or struggle.

She squatted down, her buttocks leaving my thighs, and then her hand moved to my groin.

Grasping my penis, she pressed it against her warm body and slid it inside.

It was an unusual warmth, a burning warmth that mirrored the fire within me, not the kind of heat that felt forced.

Enveloped by that different kind of intense heat, I began to feel the pleasure from her hip movements, sometimes fast,

sometimes slow, her hip bones never clumsily hitting my pelvis

. She had never had such powerful, tireless legs before.

I opened my eyes, reached out and touched her violently heaving breasts. My hands touched them, and without my glasses, my vision blurred as I

looked at her face, only to find it was different.

I grabbed her hand from my chest, pulled her upper body towards me, and she fell onto me. Although she lost her balance

, she immediately knelt and continued to sway her body.

I squinted to see her face clearly, and it was completely different from what I expected—no large, teary

eyes, no small, delicate, pert nose, no chubby cheeks, only slightly thick eyebrows and

full lips.

"Who...are you?"

Even in a dream, I still wanted to know what was sharing my body heat.

"Shh,"

the girl put a finger to her lips, urging me to quietly enjoy it all, and she closed her eyes, lost in the moment,

not wanting to be disturbed.

The constant pleasure surging through my lower abdomen made me stop thinking, focusing solely on responding to her movements and thrusting upwards. Her

coquettish reproach told me she was just as irrational.

But when I opened my eyes again, I looked closely at her face, at her features that seemed so familiar.

Her left eye was an inner double eyelid, her right eye an outer double eyelid, her naturally curly hair was slightly wavy—not the kind of perm my ex-girlfriend had deliberately styled; her thin

nose and slightly flat, unremarkable nose; the way she pouted her lips… “You look just like

me in elementary school… ”

Yes, almost a carbon copy, except that after entering junior high, I grew taller and stronger, no longer staying at 154

cm, and without a beard or Adam's apple, that skinny boy who looked like a little girl.

“Mmm…”

I couldn’t tell if she was responding or just moaning from pleasure; I only felt her

speed , desperately trying to squeeze out the warmth from my body and release her passion.

I tightly embraced her narrow, thin shoulders with prominent collarbones, holding her close, her knees clamping

around my hips. Her body trembled violently, and I reached my climax, ejaculating violently.

Her body trembled violently, and I reached my climax, ejaculating intensely.

Whether this was a dream or reality, or who she was, I had never been so thoroughly touched, every inch of my body

reaching such a state of utmost satisfaction, falling asleep in the embrace of her beautiful, gently fragrant body.

[The End]

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【Mirror Girl】

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