Date: Wed, 31 Dec 2003 13:03:33 -0800 (PST)
From: Convergence <convergenceone@yahoo.com>
Subject: Mirror Images

Mirror Images
by S. Sandoval
(Torrance/Torrance/w some Missy)

This story was inspired by the "Kiss of the Spider Woman" pictorial of
Kirsten Dunst that ran in "Face" magazine June 2002.

"Bring it On" and characters Torrance and Missy are Copyright 2000
Universal Pictures and Beacon Productions.


	Torrance threw her red and black pon-poms down to the floor in
anger. They hit the floor with a swish as she walked over to and switched
off the boom box pounding out loud techno music; Today, practice just
wasn't going too well and no matter how hard she tried to work it out,
nothing was helping.
	With the music off she picked up her towel from the railing that
ran the length of the practice room and slumped down against the wall,
eager for some rest. Dabbing at the sweat on her brow and on her arms, she
could still hear the throbbing beats of the music in her head. It wasn't
helping her mood.
	She had hoped that the intensity of an all out solo practice away
from everybody else would soothe her, but at this moment she felt anything
but soothed. She took a sip from a water bottle and looked around the
room. The school, with the help of some financial backing had rented out a
practice space at the local dance studios. It wasn't one of their biggest
ones, but it was certainly better than the cramped spaces they had to share
with the school band.
	The room was large and open, and even at night, brightly lit by
rows of bright florescence that bathed the space in a golden glow; A far
contrast from the kind that are generally used in school, where she always
thought her skin looked wan and washed out. A wooden railing ran the length
of three walls for stretching (ballet dancers probably used the room at
some point). At the farthest end of the room, the entire length of wall was
a floor to ceiling mirror. When she began cheerleading a few years ago, her
early practice sessions had been in front of a mirror. Nothing complicated,
nothing like the steps they attempt now, but simple movements essential to
basic cheerleading were often done this way. She recalled hating it, as a
matter of fact. It wasn't just that it was difficult to dance while
watching yourself in reverse; No, Torrance felt uncomfortable watching
herself. She did then, she did now. She remembered not liking her awkward
attempts at moving her arms in perfect motions, or the way she wobbled when
she would land after attempting to jump correctly. She was glad that the
school didn't have mirrors, and that that phase of her career as a
cheerleader was over. And while she deep down didn't like the rented
practice space she sat in now, it was quiet this time of night, and served
as a nice enough place to practice, and to think....as long as she did so
facing the non-mirrored wall.
	But tonight, her best attempts at clearing her mind of the mental
clutter have failed miserably. With her knees drawn up to her chest,
Torrance put her head down and sighed. Everything had become much more
complicated lately. This she knew already, but where once the new
complications were almost a blessing to what she perceived as her boring
life, now they weighed on her in way she couldn't ignore.
	Missy. That's pretty much the beginning and the ending of the whole
situation. Shortly after the squad came in second at the Nationals,
Torrance was disappointed after all that work, but happy that she had
walked away with a friend in Missy; Someone so totally unlike her in just
about every way. From that point forward, the two were practically
inseparable, attending school events, and using each other as their own
best motivators for the ever increasing difficulty of their routines. When
one would almost completly fold at the thought of pushing their body any
farther, the other would always be there to provide words of comfort to
help soldier on.
	Then, almost two months ago, it happened. Torrance and Missy had
been staying afterschool periodically to attempt some light weight
training. Missy had always claimed that her experience with gymnastics and
the lean muscle gained from such endeavors had given her an edge, and that
Torrance might benefit from the same kind of physical upgrade. The school
had a small weight room, tucked back in a far away corner of campus. The
two girls knew the times that it was used, and decided to avoid the usual
rush. One late afternoon, after their usual practice (which they kept
light, considering their upcoming training), the two ducked out and let
themselves into the weight room. Torrance, having never used any weight
equipment had to have Missy show her how some of it all worked. And while
technically Missy thought that Torrance needed to use the leg press to
tighten up that area, Torrance felt more interested in the bench press. She
had always felt kind of insecure about her arms, which she felt were
skinny, and lacked definition.
	On that day, after using the press for the first time, she felt
good. It was quite a stress reliever to move the weights up and
down. Apparently, it felt so good that she did so at a tempo faster than
she should have. It was then that Torrance's cell phone (buried in the
bottom of her gym bag) rang. Working on intuition, Torrance hopped up from
the bench too quickly. When the rush of blood hit her head, her vision went
swimmy and her legs started to buckle. Missy, who had been standing just
off to the side was able to reach out to her friend just one moment too
late. With their arms and legs entangled, they tumbled to the floor in a
heap. After seeing if they were OK, and after the fits of the giggles
subsided, the two stayed on the floor catching their breath; with Torrance
laying slightly across Missy. When the laughing stopped, they both sighed
at their own youthful incompetence. It was then that Missy leaned forward
and kissed Torrance softly on the lips. It all happened so quickly that
Torrance didn't even remember now just how long that first kiss went on
for. But she did know how quickly everything happened from that point
forward.
	The kiss broke, and Missy looked at her with those big
eyes. Torrance had never seen her friend ever look so vulnerable. But at
that moment, after such a tender, almost sacred experience, Torrance's
heart swelled that she could make Missy feel such a way. Torrance sat up
slowly. Missy must have thought that she was getting up to leave. Just as
she was about to say something, Torrance leaned in and touched her lips to
Missy's. This kiss went on much longer, with Torrance reaching up to caress
Missy's cheek and neck as their lips moved against each other. Time slowed
down. It didn't matter that they were on school grounds obviously breaking
the handbook rule about public displays of affection. Nor did it matter
that before that moment, Torrance had never thought about crossing her
formally rigid definition of her own sexuality. They grew up in a time, and
on a campus, where students were constantly trying the other side on for
size. At that moment Torrance knew what she felt, what she was doing, and
what this all meant. And it was all wonderful.
	The next few weeks were a blur of fresh romance made all more sweet
by the illicit and exploratory nature of it all. There were nights they
talked until dawn about their feelings, nights when they secretly held
hands at the movies while out with their friends, nights when they made out
with an intensity Torrance didn't know she was capable of, and nights like
two weeks ago, when their romance finally led to the obvious destination:
The Bed.
	It was a night when Torrance knew that they were going to end it by
making love for the first time. They both knew it, actually. It was all so
horribly cliched it a way; Torrance's parents and brother were gone for the
weekend, and with the house to themselves, the two girls felt no
compunction about pulling down the shades and kissing and touching their
way through every room of the house, with every room or furniture switch
causing more soft laughter and a sense of inevitable excitement.
	But when they finally fell into Torrance's bed that night, and with
the lights out, the laughing stopped. They both knew that what they were
about to experience was so delicate, so potentially powerful in what it
meant between them, that laughter wasn't appropriate until the deed was
done, and they were both basking in the tender, sweaty, afterglow.
	They kissed as never before, and as their clothes were peeled away
one by one, Torrance felt her first real sense of trepidation at what she
was doing with Missy. As her shirt and her shorts and her bra and her
panties were slid off over her soft, pale body, she felt as if parts of her
long guarded self had been exposed. The feeling was not a pleasant one. As
Missy took over, Torrance tried to suppress the trembling she felt coming
over her as her body was touched and kissed in places even she was unaware
of. She tried hiding her feelings in Missy's kiss, but the more she tried
to fall into her soft lips, she couldn't ignore that Missy's fingers
tracing up her inner thighs towards the heart of her teenage womanhood
weren't making her feel very good at all. And she didn't know why.
	When Missy finally reached that guarded place between Torrance's
thighs, and slid her long fingers in one at a time, Torrance's
instinctively yelped and practically lept back, almost horrified. The
moment was shattered. It was like someone had help up a mirror that
suddenly replayed everything they were doing from a more clear perspective,
and Torrance couldn't handle it. From that point forward, nervous words
were exchanged, quick apologies where traded, and desperate attempts were
made by Missy to find out what she thought she did wrong.
	But while Torrance knew that none of this was Missy's fault, she
couldn't fully explain why she had reacted the way she did to her lover's
touch. The following days found them tip toeing around each other, with
Torrance trying her best to get back into the feelings she had enjoyed
before. The kissing returned, but the fire, that all consuming sense of
empowerment she felt when Missy wanted her, just disappeared at the thought
of moving to the bedroom or of exposing herself fully to her.
	And that brought her to now. After several days of avoiding Missy
fully, she knew that the time was coming to either deal with the situation,
or end the relationship. Torrance came to the rehearsal space to pound the
uncertainty out of herself, with the hope of dancing it all away and
leaving only the answers behind. But as she sat, head pounding, muscles
tense, body damp, she felt no sense of relief. Just more of the same that
brought her here.
	Torrance finally stood up and got ready to gather her things to
go. She had to admit to herself that she didn't really want to leave. At
that moment, that room, ever so slightly stale with weight of post exercise
air, was the only safe place she had. And since no one else was there that
night, it was the only place she could be alone.
	Except for herself.
	Torrance stopped in the middle of the room and did what she had
been avoiding for so long. She turned and faced the mirror. She saw herself
standing there, in her red and black home cheerleader vest, with the
matching skirt swishing slightly around her thighs. She walked closer to
her own reflection, watching herself pad across the floor, and watching the
ways her skirt continued to lightly flop against her legs. Eventually, she
stood face to face with herself. It was an awkward feeling to her, but yet,
staring at herself standing there, she knew this was something that she had
to do, something standing in the way of everything she had been trying to
build over the last few months.
	She reached up and undid the tie that was holding her blond hair
up. Her locks, recently cut short and slightly curled, fell to her
shoulders. Suddenly, Torrance wanted to feel her hair touch her
skin. Without a second thought, almost in a trance, she unzipped her vest
and let it fall to the floor. Her heart almost skipped as she felt her hair
touch her naked shoulders. Somehow it wasn't enough. Never taking her eyes
off of herself in the mirror, she reached down and found the zipper of her
skirt. She ever so slowly slid it down, but did so in a way that went
beyond simply undressing. Looking into her own eyes as she removed her own
clothing she felt almost as if she was undressing for Missy, something
which she had never done before. Still, this was different somehow. She was
undressing in front of someone who had always been there, someone who had
always been there secretly waiting and wanting with the same passion as her
dark haird lover Missy; Herself. And at that moment, as her skirt fell to
the floor and Torrance stepped out of the pool of fabric it made on the
floor, she wanted nothing more than to please herself, to make herself
happy. Not just her own self, but the being she saw on the other side of
the mirror, the beautiful blond creature who was also taking off her
clothes and exposing herself for her.
	Still not breaking her gaze on herself, she reached back and
wiggled out of her black sports bra. Before, she had always never liked to
imagine the awkward way in which she took the cumbersome garments off, but
now she gasped as her breasts, milky white and surprisingly full for her
age, fell free of the damp spandex and came into view. She cast the bra
aside; it was unnecessary for this moment, this special moment. She paused.
	Looking at herself, standing there in only her black panties and
her shoes, she couldn't help but move slightly, swaying to a lazy beat that
wasn't even there. She reached her arms up over her head and locked them
together, elbows bent just over her head, delicate fingers cupped over her
elbows. Standing there like that, she unconsciously moved her hips back and
forth in a seductive dance of sorts for the woman in front of her. It was a
dance of longing, of passion, of pure desire to be with one's self in a
place meant for no one else to enjoy. Torrance watched the way her breasts
stood out from her narrow frame, the ways the pink nipples grew taut and
sparked an ache that coursed all the way through her chest, into her
heart. She watched the way the lines of the muscles and tendons led
perfectly down from her neck and arms into her upper body; The way her ribs
ever so slightly brought her narrow waist to a perfect concave curve into
her hips, the bones of which protruded ever so slightly from the band of
her panties.
	She moved her head around in time with her hips swaying, tilting
her head back and smiling ever so seductively, exposing her white perfect
teeth and her sculpted cheekbones which drew her cheeks in.
	It was then that the Torrance who walked into this room so afraid,
so unsure, so frustrated, was gone completely. In her place were two lovers
about to experience what they had been denying themselves for so long. She
lowered her panties down past her sharp hips. With her lithe frame, they
needed no further help to make it down from there, as they fell like a
silken parachute down to the floor. Torrance stepped out from them as well,
and slid her shoes and socks off over tiny feet, nails painted a sharp
shade of red.
	She couldn't help but almost gasp in wonder gazing at the naked
woman in front of her, running her eyes up and down, lingering on the dark
area between her thighs, marked with a small patch of dark, curly hair. It
looked mysterious. Enticing.  And an area that needed to be touched ever so
gently, a region that ached to have its deep mysteries found by the one
woman who knew how to find them. But Torrance knew that one cant just move
into that area so quickly. Although her own space grew damp quickly, Tor
stepped forward again, and again, and again, until she was inches away from
herself. She smiled once, probably as Missy had smiled at her, before
leaning in, and kissing her own image in the glass.
	Closing her eyes, the kiss should have felt icy, but it didn't. She
felt a coolness, almost perfect in its smoothness. Almost as smooth as
Missy's skin. Torrance wondered if this was how Missy felt when she kissed
her for the first time. Tor continued to move her lips, when the surface
grew warm to the touch of her lips she broke the contact and leaned
back. Opening her eyes, she saw her own beautiful self looking back at her
with the same look of wonder and anticipation that she had on her face. At
this moment, there was no turning back. Torrance and her image were no
longer a single being; They were two lovers, about to share themselves.
	Instantly needing more of herself, Torrance leaned forward again
and kissed her self passionately, this time feeling the cool sensation
traveling through her whole body. It was then that she felt something else
with a shock; her chest suddenly came alive with a sharp bolt. Breaking the
kiss, Torrance looked down to see her young breasts had touched the mirror,
and were touched, nipple to nipple, with her lover. Intrigued, she leaned
in further into herself, her breasts becoming flattened spheres against
herself. She wanted to push all of herself against the woman in the mirror,
to see every part of her teenage body, charged with coiled passion needing
to be sprung, touching its counterpart. Tor looked down herself to see
woman against woman, fitting together like pieces of a long lost puzzle
finally being joined.
	She fell into her own kiss again, this time keeping her eyes open,
watching her own face and her own lips moving against hers. She opened the
kiss and gently flicked her tounge against herself, appreciating every
glint of wetness in her mouth, every soft line of her face meeting its
continuation on the other side. She stepped back from her lover, swearing
that she saw disappointment on her new lover's face; As if to allay that
fear, Torrance spoke the first words of her encounter.
	"Don't worry lover. I'm right here."
	Torrance watched herself tell herself the same words she was
speaking. They were one, and they were separate now. Speaking as one to
calm and to comfort, and to love another.
	Tor slowly dropped to her knees in front of herself, spreading her
knees apart as if she was straddling a lover. With one had gently cupping
her breast, her other hand ran through her hair and then traced a line down
her face, across her soft lips. To her neck, down her breasts, down her
stomach, across her waist, and into the fringe of hair that marked her
entrance, now positively wet with anticipation.
	Never breaking her gaze with herself she slid it in slowly, the
feeling of which sent shudders traveling throughout her. Her body almost
instantly started to curve and twist as her back alternately slumped and
stretched, her ample breasts gently bobbing with each movement. As she
moved her fingers faster and faster she felt such an intense love for this
other woman, for herself, that she could no longer stand it.
	"Oh, Torrance. Make love to me. Please!"
	The sound of her pleading to herself for love was a sound she had
never thought of uttering before. But upon saying it, she felt free. She
fell backwards onto the dancing mat, her legs spread and her fingers moving
faster and faster into and across her soft, perfect, wet, womanhood. She
turned slightly to watch herself making love to herself. She found she
didn't have to close her eyes to imagine what she wanted; For herself to
step out of the mirror and make love to her right there, for all to
see. But as she fell deeper into her own passion, she also fell deeper into
her own eyes and the sights of her own pale body gleaming with tiny beads
of sweat as she made love to herself. Soon, her selfconscienceness
disappeared into the actual sounds of passionate love. Had anyone been in
the building at the time, they would have heard her sounds, her cries of
love, her gentle commands to herself, echoing down the pristine halls.
	"Oh.....oh.......oh
Torrance......uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Please. More.....uhhhh."
	She felt her love for herself swell, as any remembrance as to what
was holding her back was gone. She knew the final step. The last movement
in this expression of love. For one moment, one last flash of decadence
regarding her actions appeared, but one last glance into her own eyes,
alight with edging ever so closer to the edge, comforted her. This was
inevitable.
	With her back arching, and her muscles tensed to the breaking
point, Torrance looked at her lover, herself, and did the only thing she
could do.
	"Oh, Tor...I.....I.....Love you," she whispered through clinched
teeth.
	And with that declaration of love for herself, she came. She came
by her lover's hand in a way that she never had before.
	"Oh.......Godddddddddddd! Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, uhhhhhhhhhh,
uhhhhhhhhh," she groaned as the waves of pleasure washed over her. Had
someone been home in the third floor apartment building across the street,
they would have seen Torrance out their window, naked, surrounded by a ring
of discarded clothing, on her back, fingers inside herself, thrashing
around on her mat madly, hair flying around her face, free hand stretched
out to touch the fingers of her mirror image.
	And then, it was over. She lied there a while, letting her breath
catch up to her and her skin cool. Her muscles and thoughts, so lost and
tangled before, felt alive and free now. It was all so clear. Slowly she
stood up, without embarrassment, and saw her lover's naked body now. Pale
skin flush with blood, breasts reddened and tender, and a look in her eyes
that spoke the contentment she felt deep inside.
	Torrance gathered up her clothes and slowly slid them back on,
slightly saddened that this night with herself had passed, but proud at
what she had discovered. Once her uniform was back on, she walked towards
her gear bag and found her cell. She flipped it open and pressed the
contact button, automatically dialing Missy's number.
	"Hi, Missy. Yea, it's me. Look, I know I've been kind of out of it
lately." Missy attempted to say something, but Tor cut her off.
	"No, No. You don't' have to explain this away. It's been my
fault. But I'm ready now, Miss. I need to see you tonight. Really, I do."
	A pause. Tor spoke again, "You will? Thank God, Miss. I've missed
you so much. There's so much I need to explain. But trust me, you'll know
tonight."
	Tor disconnected the connection, and got the rest of her
things. Tonight was the night, she knew that for sure. This meeting here
was just the warm-up, tonight with Missy she knows what will happen, and is
already awaiting the laughs they will have when they are through, and their
spent bodies are reclined in each others arms in the childhood bedroom
Torrance grew up in.
	Torrance walked back to the mirror and to the proud woman looking
back at her. She leaned in for one last kiss, the cool glass tingling
through her once again.
	"Thank you. I'll never forget this."
	And with that, they both walked away from each other, to separate
doors on opposite sides of the room, to separate lives heading in the same
direction, leaving only three lip marks on the glass from where they
kissed.

This was my first attempt at writing a piece of web fiction, slash or
otherwise. Any feedback would be appreciated. Thanks so much.

Copyright 2003 - S. Sandoval.