Thursday, April 18, 2013

The Candle

 Laying in the darkness listening to the songbirds, I thought of the life and the loves, a new relationship bursting into life, the flames and intensity of fresh passion. . . 

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The Candle
Ben Hannigan

The candle flickered as the two girls ate, lit at the start of the meal they shared.  It was an anniversary, the candle a dark, rich red, unscented; the flame licking at the air as they shared the wine. The venison rare and rich, the dark chocolate truffles melting on the tongue as they talked into the night, the kisses they shared tasting of the meal and each other. One smoking a pipe the other content with the wine as they talked, the candle pressed into service to light and relight the pipe as the flame still licked at the air.

Neither remembered who kissed who first but they both remember that hunger and that pull as they moved from the chairs to the bed. The fire that pulsed through them and that heady arousal, Louise’s body a healthy tan -- that of an outdoor girl -- contrasting beautifully with Lara’s in the candlelight. Her body a squiggle of cream on the dark bedspread, her lover grinning to herself as the black silk ties contrasted against her pale wrists. Once she was bound and under her control, Louise began the slow, languid, torturous movements she favoured, nipping and licking from neck to ankles before her mouth nipping, licking, sucking and starting to devour the younger girl as some sort of dessert. The sounds her treat was making; a mix of heady gasps, whimpers and begging howls. She saw that candle still licking at the air and grinned, her hand snaking out of the bed to remove the candle from the heavy brass candelabra.

During the Raising of the candle all Lara could see was this floating tongue of flame dancing across the air, nervous and unsure what was to happen she watched from her position bound on the bed. Louise slowly, gently leaning the candle forward and they both breathless with anticipation watched the bead of wax drip off the candle. Almost in slow motion the wax hanging in the air before it splashed onto the younger girls breast, the red wax spreading and oozing before hardening. The flash of heat and pain stinging and causing indrawn gasps and whimpers of shock and desire through her, almost begging for more as the second drop landed. Her back arching and writhing as her teasing lover slowly worked the wax lower leaving a trail of redness splashed across her bare white skin. The candle moving closer, lower and lower moving inextricably towards her wetness the candle had half burned down as Louise presented what she had decided would be the last drop of wax. Lara laid there, her back arched, staring into her lovers eyes as she watched that last drop slowly fall towards her clit. The wax landing on her lithe body and engulfing her in a fire, the warmth sucking her up and into an explosion of lust and desire, as the wax cooled it bound her clit tightly in a vice-like grip squeezing her as she shook and spasmed with lust; craving anything, more, a touch, a kiss, anything to keep this going. Her mewling howls had startled Louise who smartly jerked causing the flame to splutter and die before she dived into her lover’s body peeling the now solid wax from her skin the tugging sending shudders of pleasure through Lara as she calmed.

Grinning, she dove  into the girl’s wetness once more as she begged for more, leaving her clit bound and imprisoned in this waxy tightness. Crawling up her body Louise ground into her as Lara begged for more. She whimpered with need as Louise rode her, their wet slits sliding  across each other. Testing the candle and finding it cool to the touch,  she used her weight to hold the girl down.  She pushed her virgin rosebud onto the candle, working it into her, feeling her contract and beg to be untied, beg to be kissed, and beg to wrap her arms around the woman she loved. Once, twice, three times she rocked and bounced into Louise and gasped again, screaming for more before it ended and she went limp, pressing gentle kisses across Louise’s throat, losing herself into a shaking mess of desire.

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