The Dom's Diary: Cypher Text

It's one of those bittersweet moments, the kind you look forward to and  yet it makes you sad.  This is the last  post for The Dom's Diary.  Abyrne will be taking some time off to work on his book deals that he signed!  YAY!  This means you can read more from him soon!  

But don't abandon our Wednesday posts just yet, we have something up our sleeve that I think you'll all enjoy.  

The Dom's Diary: Cypher Text

by

Abyrne Mostyn

            She was here when I arrived home, I knew it the minute I had walked in.  The day had run long, but not overly so.  I could smell the crisp notes of sea spray and sand from a fragrance she favored.  I had asked her to wear it.  I needed the respite from the dank of the city and the illusion of the coast would work.

Beta had met me at the door, tail wagging his hind quarters in a full show of affection and undeniable happiness.  I loved coming home to this dog.  The day could take me to the razor’s edge of wanting to slit mine and other’s throats and Beta would just stand at the door and all but soil the floor in happiness because I’d arrived.  Was I a sodding bastard because I wanted a woman who did the same?  I truly didn’t think so.

Lucy would be a dream to come home to every night if she were willing to give up her carefree and the other women.  She was Marilyn Monroe with soft brown locks and a libido that hadn’t said ‘no’ that I could recall.  Prompt, punctual, eager to please, and willing and able to cum on command; and that was just five of her assets.  She would never settle down though.  She loved as she wanted and went whichever way the wind blew her.  I suppose I should count my blessings that she came when I called.  I had thought often about entertaining her and one of her gal pals, but had decided against it as I was fairly certain that my territorial nature would kick up and ruin it all.

Clearing the foyer and part of the main hall, she was right where I had asked her to be, just as I had asked her to be…waiting for me.  Watching Cla’vis display the other night had been an exercise in torture.  She was free with her display and obviously enjoyed anal play.  I had thought, before I had taken time to think, that I’d return the favor to her soon, but I had realized that same night as I stood on the pier that Cla’vis and I were only dancing, and the music would eventually come to an end.

Snapped back to the moment, I had taken a deep inhale of Lucy’s scent and knew I was not with Cla’vis.  Only Lucy could smell like this and I was not so far gone to think of another when I was with someone.  That was a line I would not cross.

I stood in the doorway to the small space of my home office, drinking her in as she leaned over my desk, the handle to the anal key glinting between her rounded cheeks with the crackles of fire from the hearth as the flames licked at the dry tinder she had lit there.  She was water to my parched soul as I had stood and simply let my eyes roam her figure.  She hadn’t moved, though I knew she was aware of my arrival.  Beta’s tapping on the tile and soft howls would have alerted her to my presence.

As always, she was exactly as I had requested her to be.  Tall enough in her heels to be the right height, hair up off her neck, her skin had glowed rosy from the recent buffing in the shower that she had taken when she arrived.  She had worn nothing save the item I had requested.  I had trailed my hands down her back and over the luscious curves of her hips before giving the key a turn and walking off to have a shower of my own. 

Returning a short while later, she was exactly where I had left her.  Walking around the desk to see her face, she had worn a smug smile, knowing she had done well and I was pleased. 

“I see you wore your key.”

“As you requested Sir.”

“Tell me girl, did you do as else I requested?”

“Everything is as you wish it to be Sir.”

“Good girl.  How should I reward you first?”

“As you wish to reward me Sir.”

“A very good answer.”

I had taken her hands, which she had merely rested on the surface to the edge nearest me, fixing her fingertips over the carved lip before moving around to the opposite side behind her.  Still in my towel, I had dropped to my knees on the soft foam she had placed as directed, sliding my hands up the backs of her thighs to knead at her cheeks.  The small puckers of flesh ran in dots up her legs ahead of, and behind the trail of my fingers.  Pushing down on the small of her back to force a greater arch to her hips, I had kicked her feet a bit wider with my knees.  The tiny fist of her ass had grabbed tight to the key and flexed around it as I positioned her.

Leaning in, I had lapped at the tight accordion with darting flicks of my tongue, pulling the cheeks of her wider to get the whole of my face between them.  The tang of metal was not what I had hoped for and while visually pleasing, it was not a taste I wanted.  Pulling back, I removed the key from its pocket…slowly.  It finally popped free and I set it aside before resuming my rimming of her, spearing my tongue forward to replace the key in the small void its removal had left.  The fine sheen of perspiration dotted up her back and released the ocean scent around her.  I continued my consumption of her flavors, drawing the scent in and letting my mind travel beyond this room.

I had lost track of time.  Neither of us had seemed to mind.  I was only remotely aware of it as I noticed her scent changing over from warm beach to something the same but also different.  There was a distinct air of fresh cunt mixed with the heated water and summer smell she had been wearing.  Threading my hand up between her legs, I had run an index finger straight up her core, finding the strand of pearls tucked neatly within, giving them a stir before adding a second finger.

“Flex.”

I could feel the contraction of the kegel muscles around my fingers and the slide of the pearls against the walls of her sheath before she released.  Only once, as instructed, she didn’t move otherwise.  Thrusting faster with my tongue, I felt myself winding tighter, but I wanted to savor her thoroughly so I did a bit of flexing of my own to stay the hard on I was gaining from the taste of Lucy.  I had known when she was close by the soft mewling she was no longer in control of.  Shushing her to quiet, I knew she was fighting to be compliant.  She was losing.

Pulling back, I had run my hands back down her thighs, sorry to be letting go of her ass as I was fighting the urge to stand and fuck her just where she was.  I had something else in mind when I had called her though, and she had come prepared for the play that I had suggested.  I could always claim her ass later.  Tapping her legs to shift as I commanded, she was the pinnacle of efficiency in her movements, knowing exactly what I wanted.

“Up girl.  Show me that pretty pussy is wet and ready for me.”

She hadn’t spoken, but had turned over and hopped back in one fluid movement.  I was surprised to see that glorious snatch of hers had been shaved clean.  She had always been well groomed, but this was new.  I approved and leaned down to bite her just above the apex as she was settling her legs, additionally pleased by the soft hitch of a gasp.

“For me?”

“Not originally no, but freshly today for you Sir.”

I could see the trails of cream that had run across her lips and the iridescence of it clinging to her soft folds.

“I approve.”

Moving her feet to rest on the arms of the chairs on either side of me, I was further impressed at the thorough job she had done.  Not a single hair remained.  All I was looking at was a shiny, naked pussy with a pearl peeking out from within the center of her.  She scooted her hips toward the edge of the desk without being told to do so, though I would not balk at it as it aided my quest.  Leaning back in I had taken a long, dragging lick up the center of her from tail to top, suckling the button at the cleft, savoring the throb of it against my tongue.  The tips of her breasts were pebbled tight and hefted with each breath she took.  They were not pants yet, but they were shorter than they had been when we had begun.

Settling in, I had enjoyed catching the trails of nectar that had run unchecked against my tongue and chin, teasing her clit on random passes to the peak.  Her breathing had increased and shallowed.  I had then pushed her knees wider and set to the task I had asked for.  One by one I had sucked, or speared my tongue forward to grab, each tiny pearl, running them up the sensitive center fold before grabbing the next on the strand.  Her milky release was thickening and her thighs had begun to shake.  Moving faster, I had liberated the entire strand, sucking the thick cream from each bead before her core began flexing in orgasm.  Dropping the pearls and my towel, I stood and slammed home as her release broke free, using one hand to pull against her thighs and the other to wind the knot of her clit to draw the release out or bring the next one right on its heels.

Lucy had never failed to satisfy and her rocking and flexing had kept pace with mine nearly until my own release poured forth.  There was nothing left to give when we were finished, and I was again surprised when, after helping her down, she initiated the aftercare of cleaning me before I could go and get a cloth for her.  I had not considered my shower towel, but she had and had used it.  She was exactly what I wanted, but somehow couldn’t find.

“Why can’t I find another one just like you to be mine alone?”

“Sir, if you could, you would have no need for me.”

“True Lucy, but you don’t want what I want.”

“Also true Sir.  Perhaps until then, we can just be for one another what is needed in the moments we have.”

I would have replied, but as I opened my mouth to speak, the chime of my phone went off from my jacket pocket over the back of the other chair.  I had forgotten it was there as I had watched Lucy leaning over my desk earlier, the perfect sub.  Pulling it out, tapping the screens to get to the message while watching her leaning back against my desk watching me, I must have worn a strange expression as she offered to get us drinks, moving away from my line of sight.

When she had returned, I was seething.  I was also stiffer and standing taller than the girders in the Sears Tower downtown.  She didn’t speak, but set aside the drinks before she sank to her knees before me, sucked the whole length down and quickly began to convulsively swallow against the crown.  I was so astonished by her actions, I didn’t think to hold back.  A few moments had passed in my shock before I could speak, my sac drawing tight.

“Lucy girl, if you keep that up, I’m goi…”

Just like that, before I had a chance to finish speaking she was sucking and milking the release down without a pause.  She had pumped a few times with her mouth and licked the tip clean before she disengaged.  I was fascinated.  As she stood and commented offhand that she needed to go, nodding at the clock that stood easily an hour past the time window we had agreed to, I could only nod and growl.  Her thumb and pinky wagged out at me as she mouthed, ‘Call me again soon lover’ and was out to the wash room with a hard sashay of her hips.

I had sat in stunned disbelief, though not because of Lucy.  No, Lucy had been par for the course of Lucy with her turning tables to have the last lick.  I was stunned at the text message.  There wasn’t enough there to cipher out a coded message.  All I could do was take it at face value.

“You’re late Maisu.”

Watch for The Dom's Diary in full coming in October 2013 to Amazon KDP.

Steamheat: Forbidden Desires

Steamheat: Forbidden Desires

by 

Ben Hannigan

I lay watching him sleep; he's perfect, beautiful and sweet. I heard him call my love and my mother figure to ask what he should do. Asking whether he deserved the chance to ask for me. I feel safe with this man, feel like I can let down my guard. He hasn’t touched me other than healing me, he hasn’t laid a finger on me even as I lay naked, legs spread, unconscious and ready to be used.

I expected him to take me, expected I’d have to use the last of the brandy to steady my nerves in order to pay for my passage by letting him use me, but I’m still chaste. Why?  I still ask that, still half expect that I’m to be used; any kindness something I fear I have to pay for.

And yet, I lay here and watch him and I feel something new, something terrifying in its intensity. I feel guilt, fear. nerves, and arousal. Nerves because this is new; this hunger, this emptiness, and this need. The guilt; am I betraying Mary? I want this man to do everything that was done to me for money before, everything that my heart sister has done with me, to me - I want with him. Am I hurting her? Committing adultery?   But she said it was OK, that she has taken a male lover before and after meeting me. 

I remember I cried, lying in our bed curled up waiting for her to return that first time. Terrified she wouldn’t, that she would be hurt, beaten or would decide not to come to me or to our bed.  Will she feel that worry?  That fear?   Will I hurt her by acting on the other feelings?  Acting on my lust, my desire?

He is a beautiful man in his actions, in his stance, his poise. I have been wanting him since that first day of awareness. Pressed into his body as I used the loo I hungered for more than his thigh to press into my bottom and hated myself for it.

Feeling the fake bulge in my breeches that I used on her advice to make it real in accidental contact and appearance.  It being used to make me feel male as his body ground against me, as he brushed past me. Feeling his heat, his pressure, his mind,  his caring -- he was perfect.   

My nights are filled with secret lusting glances at his nude body on his rack and frantic workings of the toy I used as protection of my secret, the movement looking like a masturbating male. The occasion where he awoke and caught the movement making my image as a boy somehow more real. The guilty look and the blush making me seem the awkward teen male I professed to be. The constant companion of my arousal was a nervous guilt and a fair sickness at my betrayal but...

They had given permission so logically Mary won’t mind if I take her up on her offered acceptance. And to know he wants me as well but knowing I cannot tell him I know because I was meant to be asleep. How does one court a man? My experience of the male has been a monetary transaction and the girls at home approached sex and requests for sex as nonchalantly as borrowing a pen. Do I ask him to fuck me at breakfast as Layla did to me on my 17th birthday or do I lay naked on his bed artfully posed in a position that leaves no doubt to whether he has permission as I did for Mary on hers?

What is a relationship? Can I have the love, the acceptance, the shared togetherness with a man? Can I trust myself to be brave enough to try to reach out?  Because I’m scared of reaching in case his desire is from my dependence; my injury being his desire, a product of our close contact or because I dress like a boy, swear like a boy, because he believed me to be a boy? Is my desire because I know he's safe? Because he wants Ellis rather than Eliza? God, do I want that? I have the bulge and the knowledge to use it. Could I be that for him if it gives me the man I want? Yes, I think I could.

 I look up nervous. Once sure I’m alone, the Captain on his night patrol, I wet the toy in my slit and rub it across the place I had forbidden my lover, even myself to touch. The "moneymaker", the reason my uncle did so well at cards. I run a finger across and shiver. I repeat it, moistening myself with my own arousal. I’m on my hands and knees on his hammock in the shirt he dressed me in after my collapse. It still smelling of his sweat, his scent. My face buried in his pillow engulfed, wrapped in his leather, his cinnamon, and his smoky citrus.

My breeches round my ankles still playing the boy.  On my few excursions on deck as I recovered, my injury having been explained by a coal slide.  The 6" hard rubber leather wrapped toy in my hand,  wet from my lips and my flower; an obscene image no doubt as I wet it. My mind returning to my training, working the toy as if it was his.

Finally, I was ready. Moistened and turned on with a fire I had seldom found in my self-reflection, I rubbed the head over my ring. Oh gods! It was tearing me apart. My eyes rolling back in my head, gasping into the goose down. I shook and worked it in slowly. The pain, some delicious pleasure! The more it slid in, the more I worked it; this amazing burning desire spread.  Faster, faster, my hand shaking with the strain, moving as if struck with a palsy as I lost my mind to the image of him rogering his cabin boy.

My eyes rolled back, I slammed the toy in, clenched in a vice of my muscle and arched my back almost squatting on my haunches to drive it deeper.  His pillow wedged between my thighs to put a pressure on my wetness and I screamed for more, screamed his name and as I came, shouting "Please Captain Malloy. Gods fuck me, use me. Use your cabin boy's arse! Keep me as a fucktoy at sea! I screamed all this in a breathy growling gasp; the gasp that sister Mary so loved.  The gasp that hardened her nipples just at the sound.  The voice she swore could make her come, listening to me begging for more and more intense, perverse acts. A way for me to break her resolve or trigger an orgasm as she sat working on an illuminated manuscript, my masturbation both sating me and demanding her attention.

My vision blurred and I shook for a second as I tried to rebuild my world. The difference between the magic imagined world and the real always difficult to bridge. Distancing myself from the mind crafted feelings of a partners touch, skin, and hot breath from the reality of solo gratification.

I heard a whistling sound of appreciation and my heart pounded.  But before I could process anything I heard a growl and the sound of breaches and sword belt hitting the floor. 

“Fine” he growled before I felt his skin on mine, my shirt pushed up and teeth on my shoulder. The toy moved away. I watched it land in front of my eyes covered in my wetness and my release. This was new. Bigger, thicker, stretching me! My thighs pushed wider and I was being lifted, dragged, and bent over the windowsill we used as a bathroom ledge.  Hanging half out of the ship the breeze in my lungs, my carer suddenly harsh,  my master buggering his cabin boy on the ship.

The last thing my mind -- clouded by desire, pleasure, and lust -- focused on was a comment overheard from my lover to my captain was: "If she offers you a situation where she is the weak, the submissive, she trusts you. She wants it and she has found safety and a home. If it’s offered take it first and talk later. It’s how I found her as a lover and a partner. I managed to get her to explain once. She doesn’t have the words for love, for trust.  She can’t explain to people what she feels because when she was young it wasn’t there, wasn’t taught, it just wasn’t her life. She saw bodies offered for 'love' to be kept and those who felt safe offering sex. If she doesn’t want you, doesn’t feel safe and doesn’t have an emotional connection, she will offer sex as payment, as a returning of a favour, but it will be empty. Her body will be limp, any moves mechanical, clinical. If she feels safe she will show desire and if she loves you, she will be vulnerable. She will shut her eyes and just feel. She will let you inside her mind, will become one with you.”

I heard this conversation in my head as some sort of voice over as he worked me. I smiled and felt him move us again onto the mat on his floor. The sheepskin an electric pleasure on my bare skin, a feeling of decadence, being engulfed and caressed. I looked up at him and deliberately rolled my hips onto his cock and took his hand guiding it to the toy I had returned to my cunt him gripping the dildo inside, my hand making him masturbate his 'boy'. He moaned with the touch mumbling “So erotic. Fuck! It looks so hot, but I’m straight. But all I can think of is fucking my boy,my girl,  whatever u are.”

I looked into his eyes and softly stated  “I’ll be whatever you want. Whatever you need.”

 He grunted with desire and shook as I clenched on him making sure his attention was mine.  He stared into my eyes and I slowly and deliberately shut mine.  He gasped again, grunting. “Fuuuuck, shit you do.”

 I smiled and did something I thought I’d never do, I just let myself feel with a man.

Not replacing Mary, never that.  I had found a second lover that day.  I have found heaven.

Oral Dilemma: Match

Luke and Roxy have been training pretty intensely over the previous ten weeks.  It's towards the end of the semester, nearly time for them to go home for the summer, or find a summer job.  Roxy has a standing offer to  work at her dad's company, but if she can win this  match, she'll win more than she could make at the plant working the entire summer. Let's see how things develop. 

Read part 7 here.
Read part 6 here.

Read Part 1 here. 

Read Part 2 here. 

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here. 

Read part 5 here

Match

by 

Ellie Mack

As the trainer wrapped my hands, I cracked my neck. I was as ready for this as I would ever be. I was more in shape than I had been for the previous match:faster, leaner,stronger. My competition was a chick from Baton Rouge. She was 3 inches taller which meant she had a longer reach, her legs were thin with little muscle definition. Still, I wasn’t going to assume anything.

On the other side of the arena building Luke prepared for his first fight ever. He’d trained hard, given his all. He was far more serious than I had given him credit for. Luke was in the zone, but I couldn’t watch his match.

We had fallen into a routine. Workout, showers, back to his apartment, a healthy meal, great sex, then studies till midnight. In the mornings I’d go back to my room, do our laundry, study, go to class and do it all over again. It had been a full week since I stayed over. Midterms had me running like crazy, and we decided that we should both concentrate on our school work. Tonight, win or lose our matches, we would be together.

I wanted to watch his match , but I couldn’t. I had to focus, had to get my head in my own zone, free from other distractions. My friend Kayla was taping both our matches so we could view later and review what we need to improve. The trainer tapped my partial gloves “You can take Aleysia, she’s thin she has been sick. She’s not looking good and you’re in the best shape of your life. Make quick work of her Roxy.”

It was time. My stomach churned as I took a swig of Gatorade. There it was - my cue. “Roxanne Winters” As I jogged to the ring, the roar of the crowd seemed to fade in the distance. I was there for one reason, to win. I bound into the ring, spinning myself on the top rope, landing squarely on my feet as if I’d done it a million times but it was just the adrenaline rush. Bouncing form toe to toe waiting for the command of the ref. Aleysia flashed me a disconcerted half smile. I wasn’t sure if it was a cocky “I’ve got this”, or if I’d rocked her off her game. We were about to find out.

I took a hard blow to my cheek at one point, and a foot to the ribs. My game was on my feet, I tried my best to stay off the mat. We danced around the ring, exchanging blows, testing each other. I could tell I w as stronger than her just by the lack of impact of her blows. A flying roundhouse kick followed by a back kick to the back of Aleysia’s thigh and she was down. As I suspected, her legs were conditioned with cardio, lean with endurance, where I’d been interval training, weight training, and plyometrics. It didn’t take much for me to get her in a headlock when she was disoriented. Then I heard my name announced, what a rush!

I had to wait, had to go back to the locker room. I didn’t want to throw Luke off his game. It seemed surreal, my match was already over. I could have gone longer. I had so much energy I was literally bouncing. I stood ringside watching the other women. Inevitably I would be fighting these women at some point. I watched their moves, studied their techniques, noted their nails even to get my mind off worrying about Luke’s match.

After what seemed like hours, the winners were announced. I accepted my prize, but was more interested in the check that came with it. Also I’d gotten endorsements for local gyms, free membership, and more supplements than I would ever use. Then I waited. Waited with baited breath to hear Luke’s name. My eyes down, waiting, listening then Winner of round 3 men’s middleweight - Luke Reed. My eyes shot up and I saw him for the first time that night. His eyes were locked on me. He mouthed “ I won!”

My eyes welled with tears, as I watched him collect his belt, and other prizes. Once he was off the platform I ran into his arms, nothing was going to keep me from him now. I lept into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, our kisses frantic!

He called in the biggest greasiest deluxe pizza and a 2 liter of soda for us, picking it up on the way back. We ate the entire thing then he got out the bottle of champagne he’d bought to celebrate.

“ I had this chilling since I left for the match Roxy. I knew you’d win baby. You are amazing, and you’re in the best shape of your life. You look amazing, but that doesn’t compare to the woman inside. The woman inside, the one I fell in love with.” He gave me the glass of champagne and set his on the coffee table. He knelt down on his right knee, taking out a small velvet box.”Will you marry me Roxanne Winters? Spend the rest of our lives together?”

I did not see that one coming at all. My chin nearly hit the floor, I was stunned. I sat there gawking at the ring for a while when he asked. “ Well, um babe are you going to answer me? I need to get off my knee here - its’ bruised form Leon’s kicks.”

“Of course I will Luke. Yes!” I pulled him up to me, the champagne forgotten in our kiss and embrace. Instantly I was on fire at his touch. My lips parted slightly as he persuaded me wit his tongue. His hand roughly cupping my breast, massaging and kneading, teasing until tight little buds rose to the occasion. I tugged his shirt off over his head and tossed it.

Luke grinned slyly and did likewise to my shirt. He dipped his head to mine, then moved lower taking one of the traitorous buds into his mouth, my back arching as the sensation rippled through me.

My fingertips trailed down his spine, into the waist of his jeans. I worked, fumbling to unfasten his jeans. My mind hazed with desire. Pushing the jeans down his legs into the floor. I don’t even remember him removing my own jeans, but suddenly he was there on top of me. I could feel his hardness pressed against me. His lips glided over mine roughly. “Roxy, sweetheart. I love you.”

There was no more talking after that. He plunged his tongue into my mouth at the same time he plunged into me lower. OH gods it was divine! Instant flood of fire throughout my entire being. I wanted, needed this.

Our rhythm went from slow gentle lovemaking to wild tantric movements. Fueled by the adrenaline of the days events, we pushed ourselves beyond anything we’d done before. My fingers trailed down his lean torso, outlining the hard muscles, while he put one leg over his shoulder, slamming deep inside me, causing me to scream in my release.

Luke didn’t stop, he kept going, pushing me on further. Another wave rolled over me as I lifted my hips, tightening on him, feeling myself contract again and again. We stopped long enough to each take a drink before he flipped me over, my ass in the air. His tongue flicking over my slit, over my puckered backdoor, and sucking my nub. I was moaning, begging when he entered me. It didn’t take much at that point for me to come again. For the very first time Luke wanted to take me anally. We started slow, but I was already so turned on it didn’t take much for me to speed up quickly once he used a little bit of lube. He kept scrunching his eyes, saying “ good, so good baby”. He’d go fast and deep then slow down, wanting to make it last even longer. Then he couldn’t wait any longer. Another squirt of lube and Luke pounded into me. I loved it. I came two more times before he began that jerky broken rhythm right before exploding.

At 3:14 a.m. We collapsed on the bed together, spent.

The rest of the weekend was spent in each other’s arms, the outside world forgotten.

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. . . 

(Storytime does not own copyrights to this image.)

The Candle

by

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.