Reflected

"Jason! Breakfast is getting cold!"

Jason barely heard his wife's shrill, nagging voice as he gazed lovingly at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. What on earth was he doing staying tied down to that bitch, anyway? He was looking even better with age. Graying only at the temples in a dignified manner and still as fit and trim as he was at 20, though he was getting close to 50. His wife, Trudy, on the other hand? Disgusting. He watched his nose wrinkle in disgust at the thought of her 250 pound, doughy frame and saggy tits. She had been one hot mama when they started dating in high school, but 34 years later she looked like shit, in his opinion.

She had stopped dying her stringy gray hair a couple years ago.

"What's the point?" she'd gripe. "It's not like I'm looking to snag a husband."

"How about trying to keep one?" he thought about saying, but was smart enough not to. She had a sharp tongue and her voice grated on his nerves on a good day. He was hardly about to deliberately piss her off.

Jason ran his hands down his rock hard six-pack and smiled. His 23-year-old co-worker, Betsy, loved stroking his abs after they fucked. Every chance he could sneak away, he'd head straight to her apartment and spend two to three hours playing with the sweet, sexy young thing. She had the perfect hourglass figure, big boobs that stlil managed to stay perky (100% real though!), fair skin, gorgeous green eyes and long, wavy auburn hair that just begged to be pulled as he fucked her mercilessly from behind.

Jason looked down at his perfect dick. Thinking about Betsy had him hard as a rock and he admired the view. shamelessly, until the bitch started yelling again.

"Dammit, Jason, your pancakes are gonna be cold and rock hard!"

With a sigh, he snagged his bathrobe from the towel rack and slid it on, tying the belt tight at the waist.

Looking in the mirror one last time before heading down to deal with his shrew of a wife, Jason hesitated. Squinting at his reflection he frowned. Was that a bald spot starting on the top of his head? No, it couldn't be. His dad lived to be 93 with not one lost hair and both of his grandfathers lived long lives with full heads of hair as well. Still, something looked off. He frowned again, trying to figure it out.

Shaking his head, he chalked it up to imgagination and yelled to his wife, "I'll be down in a minute, keep your shirt on!" Yes, for the love of the gods, keep your shirt on. He grimaced at the unwelcome vision of her saggy boobs that popped unwillingly into his mind. As he turned to leave the bathroom he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, once more. Now it definitely looked like a bald spot on the back of his head. He turned right and then left and then right again, trying to get a better peek, but he couldn't quite see it when he was looking directly at his reflection. Digging through his wife's drawer he found her little hand mirror and held it up in front of himself as he turned his back to the bathroom mirror.

"Holy shit!" he yelped. "What the everloving fuck?" He was certain, now, that there was indeed a bald spot growing on the back of his head. "Trudy! Get up here! NOW!"

Trudy poked her head into the bathroom. "What's wrong? Why aren't you coming down to breakfast?" the sharpness in her voice could have cut an onion, but, for once, Jason didn't notice.

"Look at my hair!" he cried. "I'm getting a bald spot!"

Trudy shook her head , "You're so vain," she snapped, "There is nothing wrong with your hair. Now come down and eat."
"You're lying, you evil witch! " Jason shouted in her face. "Look! It's obvious! There's no way you can't see it!'
"Evil witch?" she laughed. "I'll show you an evil witch you cheating son of a bitch!" Before he knew what was happening, she had grabbed his electric razor off the counter and shaved a big chunk of hair off the side of his head.

"No!" he screamed. "My hair!" he grabbed for the razor but she backed up quickly and kneed him hard in the crotch.
"Fuck you, Jason! I've had it with your shit!" She pushed him hard, knocking him into the tub. His head hit the wall so hard he blacked out for a few seconds. When he came to his senses she was sitting on his chest, randomly shaving bald spots into his head.

"NO!" he tried to push her off of him, but she was too heavy and he couldn't get leverage lying in the porcelain tub. "Get off me, you old bat!" he reached up and pinched her nipples, hard, then twisted. Screaming in pain, she countered with a hard punch to his nose; blood spurted everywhere. "I'll kill you, you cunt," he hissed. "I'll fucking kill you."

Trudy laughed, a cold, heartless laugh. "No, you bastard, I'm going to kill you. She pushed the drain stopper down into the tub's drain and turned the cold water on full blast. She stood up and quickly stepped out of the tub. As he struggled to right himself, with one last gloating cackle, Trudy dropped the electric razor into the tub.

Word count: 918