Beauty

As I rode him, I watched myself in the mirror that hangs on the wall by the bed.

Slightly mesmerized, I noted the tousled hair, slumberous eyes, swollen lips. The golden tan on my shoulders that melts indistinctly into the pale skin below.

I admired the curve and shape of my breasts as they slope out to the dusky tips.

When, I wonder, was the last time that I looked at myself like that and thought, "I'm beautiful?"