You didn't mean to look at the mirror. Not really. But now you can't look away. You're watching yourself, watching us, unfold in the reflection. Every thrust, every moan, every flicker of skin on skin caught in the glass. This isn't just sex anymore. It's a film. A fantasy. A loop of want, rhythm, and heat, playing out in real time and reflection. And maybe, just maybe, it's better this way.