Her heart skipped a few beats as headlights illuminated the driveway. She hurried from the window and positioned herself in the lotus position among the colourful pillows she’d scattered on the floor. She closed her eyes and imagined him opening the front door, seeing the rose petals leading up the stairs and that smile lighting up his face. He’d take of his jacket and shoes. By the time he reached their bedroom he’d be mostly naked and aroused. She smiled. Poor guy hadn’t had any in such a long time.
She heard his heavy breathing and opened her eyes. He stood in the door in just his boxer briefs and a burning in his eyes. She’d never loved or wanted him more than she did in that moment.
“Welcome home, darling,” she cooed.
“If I’d known this is what was waiting for me I’d have left the bar hours ago.” He stared at her. “God, you’re beautiful. What is that you have written on your body?”
Tuesday held out one elegant hand. “Come sit with me.”
When Patrick removed his underwear her breath stopped painfully in her throat. How had she managed to live for weeks without that beautiful piece of male craftsmanship? She used to crave the impressive length, his thickness filling her with rock hard heat.
Patrick stood in front of her for a second and she rubbed her face against his cock, inhaling his scent and luxuriating in the feel of him. As she filled her lungs with his essence her bones seemed to melt into molten larva. She ached with her need for him. He hardened against her skin. Gazing longingly up at him she saw his eyes were wild and crazy with desire. She loved the power she had over him, how she could turn him to mush while his cock transformed into granite. She was tempted to take him into her mouth. Her mouth watered begging her for one taste, just to feel him throbbing against the delicacy of her tongue.
Patrick caressed the back of her head, silently begging her for what they both wanted. But she didn’t want him coming so soon. He’d gone without for so long that it wouldn’t take much for him to explode. She wasn’t sure she possessed the willpower and groaned in frustration. But she managed to control herself, instead grasping his hands and pulling him down beside her.
Patrick looked around the room. “I can’t believe you did all this.”
She’d decorated the room with candles and sheer fabric draped over the bedposts and lamps. She’d also hung four large erotic art pencil drawings she’d found on a solo trip to the flea market.
Patrick crossed his legs and Tuesday sat in his lap, wrapping her hands around his waist and crossing her legs around his hips. Patrick placed one had on her lower back and the other on her hip. His cock nestled against her pussy and behind. Moving ever so slightly, she rubbed against him.
He started examining the writings on her chest.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied with business lately,” she said.
“It’s understandable. Starting a business is not easy.”
“But neither is being married so I have to work on both.”
Patrick smiled. “Yeah, you’re working on me alright, baby. Your body looks amazing.”
“It’s chocolate body paint and some of my feelings,” she explained.
He caressed her collar bone. “So you want to be kissed here.” His lips glided over the area. “And caressed here.” He caressed her left breast cupping its fullness in his hand.
Tuesday moaned. It felt so good having his hands on her body. Each instruction took her to a new level of delight. When he finally kissed her lips he tasted of chocolate and desire. His lips went from soft to hard in an instant. She held on to his tongue, savagely sucking him then desperately trying to get to the back of his throat. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough. His mouth was wet and she dived deep seeking sweetness and release. Her pussy creamed and throbbed, her essence leaking out on his rapidly expanding cock.
Patrick pulled his mouth away from hers with a loud moan. He reached between them, took his cock, and placed it between her lips. He rubbed the head against her clit while staring into her dark brown eyes. She held his gaze feeling the energy from his body flow into hers. She inhaled when he exhaled. They barely moved but their centre, where their bodies joined, crackled with electricity. She arched her hips and leaned into him, rubbing her breasts against his smooth chest. Her body begged her to let go, to end the sweet torture, and bask in the warmth of blessed release. But she wanted to hold on to the tension, allowing it to build until the choice of when she came wasn’t hers to control any more.
As if he read her mind Patrick lifted his cock away from her. “I have a feeling you have more surprises in store for me tonight,” he said.
Tuesday smiled. “I wanted us to try some of my new candles.” She reached over to a basket she’d conveniently placed near the pillows and selected one of her massage candles and a lighter. As she lit the candle she noted the look of concern on Patrick’s face.
She placed the candle on the floor and tried to assuage his fears. “The wax will melt into a massage oil. It’s a low burning soy candle so you won’t get burned – well maybe a little but trust me, it will hurt so good.”
She pushed him back onto the pillows and lifted herself high enough for him to stretch out his legs.
He sighed in relief then said. “I love this new take-charge side of you. I never knew you had a fetish for hot wax.”
“There are a lot of things you still don’t know about me but it’s nice to know you trust me to take care of you.”
While they waited for the wax to melt Patrick sat up and tweaked her nipples.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful than you do in this moment. You look like a goddess to me.”
Tuesday threw back her head and laughed. She felt like a goddess upon her adoring stallion. Patrick started licking the chocolate from her body, creating swirls with his tongue. Tuesday sighed blissfully, slowly bending backwards until her head touched the floor. Patrick reached under her supporting his weight with one hand. She reached up and took his feet in her hands.
Tuesday felt open and vulnerable. Her stomach muscles twitched as Patrick circled her navel with his tongue. His free hand moved between her thighs, gently rubbing the outer lips as if seeking permission to enter.
“Yesss,” she expelled on a long breath.
Jubilantly his fingers slipped in, finding and stroking that little nubbin of hard flesh for just a second- a tease really, before moving to the inner lips. He seduced her clit, tempting it with a touch, making it beg by moving away. Tuesday extended her legs and dug her heels into the carpet, lifting her hips, begging him to taste her.
Patrick stared at her offering, admiring its perfection. She was always smooth, with his name tattooed just below her bikini line. The little minx had enjoyed the pain. He hadn’t enjoyed having her name etched into his crotch but she was worth every second of pain. He ran his tongue over his suddenly dry lips and imagined it was the wet lips inches from his face.
But she wasn’t quite ready. This was the game they liked to play, pushing each other to the limits of endurance.
“I think that candle is ready now,” he said in a voice so thick with desire he didn’t even recognize it as his own.
Tuesday sat back down on his lap. She was glad he’d had the self-control to stop but her frustration was making her crazy. She didn’t know how much more she could stand.
She reached for the candle. “Heat on skin can be extremely sensual,” she explained as she held the candle high enough over her chest so it would have a little time to cool before splattering onto her skin. When it did she growled, closing her eyes to feel its full impact. She rubbed the warm oil across her breasts. “Oh God, this feels so good.”
Patrick’s hand joined hers, massaging the oil into her skin. The heat seemed to seep into her pores, travelling through her body down to her pussy.
“Lay back, you have to feel this,” she whispered.
Patrick lay reclined on the pillows as she raised the candle above him. He watched the oil
coming towards him and held his breath. It hit his chest smoothly, running in rivulets down to his flat stomach. The hint of pain jolted his senses into overdrive. He moaned at the unexpected pleasure as Tuesday rubbed the oil into him.
“When you get used to this we can move on to hotter stuff,” she promised.
“Are you going to reveal all of your sexual secrets before you met me?” he asked.
Tuesday’s smile was a little nostalgic. “There really isn’t much to tell. I spent more time alone than with partners. I started making candles. One day I made a penis candle and I was converted. I’ve never looked at wax the same way since.”
“Now thanks to you I won’t either.”
Patrick sat up and pushed her back onto the floor. He reached for the penis shaped candle and blew out the flame. He rubbed the wick and tip with his hand, making sure it was warm but not hot. Tuesday placed her feet on his chest and opened her legs. Patrick placed the candle directly on her clit. She screamed and dug her nails into the carpet. It was so unbelievably erotic she broke out in sweat. As he moved the big candle against her pussy she finally reached the point of no return. She surrendered herself, body, mind, and soul to the ultimate pleasure.
She never made a sound, she just shook like a woman possessed. She pushed against Patrick’s strong chest, her hips slapped against his lap and she bit down so hard on her bottom lip she tasted blood.
Patrick placed the candle on the ground and cupped her pussy as she gently came back down to earth. They were silent for a few minutes as she tried to get air into her lungs. Finally she opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
Patrick’s eyes were soft. “Remember earlier when I said you’ve never looked more beautiful? I was wrong because you’ve never been more beautiful than you were just now. You were simply poetry in motion.”
Tuesday blushed. “God, you know just what to say to get yourself laid.”
Patrick smiled. “So it’s that time now?” he reached down and caressed his cock.
Hunger quickly replaced the glow of her orgasm. She sat up and placed her hips above Patrick’s erection then gently slid down its length. Her body accepted him gleefully. Slowly she started dancing, her hips moving in graceful patterns. She placed her hands on his chest and bent forward, elongating their strokes. Patrick pushed up into her, his hardness slamming into her softness savagely. He was so thick and driving so deeply it hurt. In an effort to relax the pressure Tuesday locked her legs around Patrick’s waist and leaned back. Sensing her need Patrick folded his legs under him and grabbed her forearms. She followed his lead. Their entwined hands allowed them to bend backwards while lessening the power of their thrusts.
While their arms remained tense and their hips moved frantically, their upper bodies appeared to be floating. Tuesday felt as if she were flying through soft clouds in a rainbow of colours. Their heavy breathing sounded heavier in the quiet room. Their bodies glistened with sweat from the heat of the candles and their erotic dance.
Their positions didn’t alleviate the pain for long. There was no way to avoid the ache of such an intense desire. Tuesday released his hands, returning to her original position taking him deep inside her. She slammed down on him, welcoming the jolt to her body and senses. She started hissing then groaning as Patrick reached down and started rubbing her clit.
She came first, her muscles tightening even more around him as she shuddered and cried out his name. Knowing she was taken care of, Patrick exploded, filling her with liquid heat. Tuesday slumped on top of him and linked her arms around his neck.
Patrick kissed the top of her head. “I think I’m ready for some of that hotter stuff you promised.”
Tuesday looked up at him in delight. “I knew you’d like it. I should’ve shared this with you a long time ago.”
He caressed her shoulders. “You don’t have to be afraid to share anything with me, sexual or otherwise. Especially something as amazing as this.”
She wriggled her hips against his. “Do you have any secrets that I need to know?”
Patrick’s smile was a little deviant. “Maybe. You’ll just have to wait and see. Right now let’s just concentrate on getting hot.”
At this point each candle held a little pool of hot ecstasy. She poured them into a miniature, vintage tea pot, also a flea market find, and placed it on an electric warmer. It would keep the wax melted long enough for them to have fun.
“I’ll go first.” Tuesday stretched out on her stomach and pulled her long black hair away from her neck and back. “Now carefully pour a trail from my neck down to my hips,” she instructed. “And I don’t mind if you get a little carried away. I can take the heat.”
“Man I like this new side of you,” Patrick said happily as he held the teapot above the slim back. He poured slowly while moving the pot down her back, leaving a trail of heat. Tuesday moaned but didn’t flinch. The sensation of liquid heat on bare skin was exquisite.
“Again, please do it again,” she cried softly.
Patrick followed up with another trail this time dropping a few drips between her spread thighs. She turned over onto her back. She loved feeling the congealed wax pressing into her skin. “Now do my nipples.”
Patrick replaced the empty pot and lit a fresh candle. When the liquid started melting he angled it directing the wax to her large areola. Her back arched when fire met skin. Her fingers moved between her legs and she played with herself while he administered heat to her breasts. She gave a high piercing whimper and in a second she came.
She looked up at Patrick and smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know what that feels like.”
“I think I’m gonna right now.” He handed her the candle and stretched out on his back. He had an eager grin on his face that reminded Tuesday of a little boy on Christmas morning. God, how she loved him!
She knelt beside him and aimed the wax towards his nipple. He didn’t say anything at first. He was too busy trying to analyze the sensations he was experiencing. But when he allowed his mind to simply surrender he connected with a part of himself straddling the thin line between pleasure and pain.
When Tuesday ran a stream of wax down the length of his cock, his moan stopped halfway in his throat. The sensitive skin, thinned from stretching to accommodate his erection, throbbed with excitement. As the wax congealed she peeled it away pulling little fine hairs with it.
“Oh shit, that hurts so good! Hurt me again, baby,” he growled out.
Tuesday played with him taking him to the brink of his control before putting aside the candle and laying down next to him. She placed one leg over him and lifted her hips slightly for him to enter her. Patrick grabbed her hips. This time their dance was gentle. She caressed his head as they moved together. He alternated his caresses between her hips and breasts. They gazed into each other’s eyes and talked like they hadn’t since their honeymoon.
So much of their conversations lately had read like to-do lists. When they were dating her smile had been a topic of conversation, the way he looked in his jeans had given her butterflies.
Tuesday knew they couldn’t live in a bubble blissfully tucked away from real life but they needed more moments like this, to talk about sweet nothings which really meant so much.
Their climax was more of a gentle wave filling them with warmth but still leaving them breathless and basking in the glow of the candle lights.
Meeting Mister M
by Evalina Frances
He’s not a total stranger.
For the hundredth time I repeat this to myself as I move one station closer to my destination. The rocking rumble of the tube train is both calming and ominous. The butterflies in my stomach fall quiet then erupt into a mass of fluttering each time the doors open and then clamp shut.
I look at my reflection in the darkened window opposite. My long messy bob is tamed in a knot at the base of my neck, leaving a curtain of dark fringe from under which my green eyes seductively peep. The fitted white blouse unbuttoned, showing more
than a hint of the black bra that barely contains my ample cleavage, and it clings perfectly, accentuating my waist. A neat black skirt skims my hips and stops just below my knee so that my calves, dressed in the sheerest of stockings, looked toned and tanned all the way to my 4 inch giraffe print heels.
I smile at the girl that stares back at me from the glass, even more pleased with myself when I think of what is hidden beneath my outfit. It’s all about the lingerie for Mister M.
I’m here, my stop. I stand, grab my bag and hop onto the platform. My echoing heels click time with my repeated mantra …
He’s not a total stranger. He’s not a total stranger.
We’ve known each other for some time. Drawn to a site of erotic writings, I couldn’t contain my curiosity from peeking at pictures of its members. Mister M had stood out immediately. Unlike the other faceless, gratuitous shots of cocks in various states of arousal, his were interesting, cheeky and oh so sexy! Some stripping in a suit, others in jeans without boxers, wrapped only in a white sheet or naughtily under the desk at work they had made me smile as well as making my pussy wet.
Uncharacteristically, I soon posted some of my own and it seemed my pictures had the same effect on Mister M. We started chatting and before long progressed to webcams. I lacked the hardware so swapped his spare camera for a pair of my panties which I had misted in just a hint of my perfume, the same perfume I wore today. The first time I heard him call me his ‘good girl’ in my headphones, a jolt of desire ran through my body, ending up in a slippery mess between my legs. It was addictive and electric – cyber sex that rivalled the real thing.
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