I Sit On My Own Face

This is my best one yet, Readers, you lucky Readers.

"Will you come out and play, Chrissy?" I said to my reflection. But she didn't answer.
All she said was, "Will you come out and play, Chrissy?" I mean, that's what I saw her mouth saying.
I was bummed that she wouldn't come out of the mirror.
"You promised me you'd let me sit on your face," I said. "Will you do that tonight, please?"
But that was dumb. She didn't answer. All she said, in a kind of mocking imitation of me being really whiny, was, "You promised you'd let me sit on your face..."
She could be cruel. I knew that about her now. She was moody.
Just like me, actually.
Readers, you probably think I'm so nice all the time, but I never write about my darkness, how I'm sometimes mean to people because I get really unhappy with my mental illness and stuff.
My reflection seemed to be exactly the same way. Depending on the time of day you might be talking to nice Chrissy or bitchy Chrissy.
"Please, Chrissy!" I begged her. "Please come out and play with me. I'm so horny."
"I'm so horny!" she mocked me.
Whining doesn't work with her. I knew that. I tried a more clever approach--seduction.

What really helped was when I touched myself in front of the mirror. She felt it too, I know she did, the arousal that comes when I touched my clit. Maybe you feel it too, reader, when you watch me touching my clit. I'm feeling a connection with you. This is the great thing about sex--it connects us, right? Here, take a closer look, readers. Peer right in there at my crotch and look at my hand on my most private love button, my clit. I want you to see me doing that. Do you see it? Does it make you horny? Good.
