Libby was sent by Mary to get some drinks for them, as she sat with Thomas on her bed.
"So, what's your name, cutie?" she grinned and blushed at the same time.
"Thomas. But you can call me Tom." He smiled back. The erection in his pants tightened his trousers. He felt so nervous, he might cum in his boxers. Mary was also horny. Her pussy was wet and she felt a stain from undernearth her. She couldn't stand it anymore.
"Wanna kiss?" She looked deeply into his eyes. Before he could even answer, she leaned in and her lips touched his. Soon they were wrestling each other with their tongues. Tom moved one of his hands to her waist and the other started to squeeze her right boob. She moaned loudly. Then she wanted to give him something to remember. She pulled away from him,knelt down on the floor and pulled his trousers and boxers down; revealing his 8-inch manhood. She moved one of her hands onto his dick and stroked it. She got faster and faster, as he moaned in ecstasy.
"Wanna a 'BJ', Mr. Tom?" She smiled at him as he was at the edge of blowing his load on her. He nodded at her in excitement. She dipped her head and swallowed his juicy cock whole. She began bobbing her head quickly, licking his precum off the tip. He had never been so passionate about anyone in his life, and he wasn't going to lose the oppotunity to express his feelings to this 'immortal'. As she sucked him off, Tom looked at the circular mirror, hanging on the wall. It was horror. A nightmare. Death. Replacing his reflection, an image of him, with red horns sprouted from his forehead; a muscular body. He wasn't being pleassured by a beautiful, unknown creature. No. He was on his knees. Mary, on all fours; crying. Begging. Pleaing for help. His hands were holdin on to her waist, as he was fucking her. But by the look on her face; she didn't like it. She wanted the horror to stop. She was being raped. He pounded her ass like it was his top priority. He came rapidly. In his devilish face; he was enjoying it.
"STOP!" shouted Tom. He was in reality now. Mary look up at him in worry. Some of his white substance was dripped from her chin. He sighed in relief.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you" questioned Mary as she started to stand.
"No, I...." He look again at the mirror. Now he was whipping Mary's body with his belt. Her wrist were wrapped round a tight rope, that hung from the ceiling. Her beautifully shaped body, showed bruises after bruises. Cuts over cuts. Misery over misery.
Reality. Mary also looked at the mirror and then back at Tom. She pulled him away from the view of the mirror.
"Never look at that mirror. Okay?" she had worry all over her eyes.
"W-what was that?" asked Tom as her began to shake. Mary took him in her grasp and held him in her hands.
"It's the Mirror of Death. It has been in this room for centuries. No one knows why it's here. Don't worry; with me here, you're safe."
Soonthere was a smell of burning wood, that drifted in the room. The two pulled away from each other. They looked at the door. It was in flames. The room light up, burning the interior. Mary pulled Thomas to the corner of the room. She wrapped her hands around his chest, trying to protect him. But seomthign went wrong. Everytime she tried to wrap her hands around him, it was like he was invisible. He was air. The fire started to crept nearer to Tom. Though it wasn't touching him. Infact, he couldn't feel a thing. He turned around.Though the flames were not harming him, they were harming her. She screamed in pain. Her eyes getting wetter and wetter. Tom could here screams from downstairs. It was history. Tom watched in horror as Mary burnt to dust.
Suddenly that flash of light came again. It changed.
No longer was Thomas standing in a girly, pink room that was burning in flames; he was standing in a dark room. The window had cracks in it. The walls were black and mouldy. He had witnessed Mary's past. If only he could have save her.