Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
“Sit up straight, put your hands behind your head for me.”
She put her hands behind her head and her beautiful little breasts stood proud. I got to my feet, and she gulped, her breasts rising and falling as I made my way around the table. I reached between her legs and she flinched, but my grip was on the chair, turning it to face me.
“Keep your eyes on me.”
She nodded.
“Good girl.”
She gave a little whimper as the first splash of wax hit across her breasts. It dripped so beautifully, hardening into a creamy line along the curve of her flesh. And her nipples had hardened too, the sweetest pale pink all puckered and tight. Slowly I decorated her, holding the candle close enough to her skin to make it glow, where the wax would be at its hottest. She squirmed with ragged breaths, but she didn’t move her hands.
“Offer me those sweet tits, Helen. Show me they’re mine.”
And she did. She pulled her shoulders back and stared into my eyes and offered me those gorgeous little tits like a precious gift.
“Ow,” she breathed. “It burns… a nice burn…”
I took her breast in my hand and I squeezed her, pinched until her hard little nipple was rolling between my thumb and forefinger and she was rocking her hips. And then I spilled wax on her, right there as she moaned, and it was beautiful.
I loved the patterns on her skin, the creamy rivers of wax hardening on her soft flesh. Her nipples looked so tender, tight with anticipation of their beautiful punishment, and her face was innocence and devilment in equal measure, nerves and excitement combined. I put the candle aside and unbuttoned her jeans, shimmying them down her legs and onto the floor before I took her knees in my hands and parted them wide.
Her cute little panties were bunched into her slit, and the fabric was damp and cloying. I ran my thumb between the folds and she let out a beautiful moan.
“Such a pretty wet pussy.”
She gasped as my thumb found her clit.
“So sensitive… it’s going to look so beautiful.”
A tiny murmur as she registered my intentions, but her hips rose so willingly for me to pull down her panties. I held them to my nose and took a breath before discarding them, and her scent made my cock jerk in my trousers. I reached for her waist and shunted her forward in her seat, so her ass was balanced on the edge, her feet braced on the floor. I licked my fingers slowly as she watched, then pushed two inside in one strong push. She took them, and groaned, and I fucked her like that, slowly and deeply. Her excitement made my fingers so slick, my movements solid as I angled them to find the right spot. Her breath turned shallow at the sensation, and once she was drifting into the pleasure I picked up the candle.
She flinched as wax splashed the tender skin of her thighs.
“Ow…”
“Good girl.”
Streaks of beautiful white wax, dripping and rolling so slowly over her skin. I timed the heat with her breaths, with her movements, and with the steady thrust of my fingers, and she rolled with me, rolled with the sharp little floods of heat. Tiny drips coated her belly, splattering her so perfectly, and she began to whimper as she knew what was coming.
“Keep your legs spread wide.”
She nodded, and closed her eyes as I lifted her feet and placed them against my chest. Her weight shifted, her balance precarious and dependent on me. Her legs were taut as she spread her thighs, and she was bared to me, her beautiful wet pussy glistening.
She cried out as the first drips hit her, and her thighs clenched so tight they shuddered.
“Oh, God… Mark…”
“Don’t be scared.”
She took a breath. “I’m not…”
I marked her pussy with a line of wax, and she quivered.
“You look so beautiful, Helen.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Spread your pussy for me, nice and wide with your fingers.”
I watched the breath from her open mouth as she stared at me, and her dainty fingers did what they were told. The bud of her clit was swollen and needy, her slit so pink and wet for me. She bit her lip as I moved the candle there, squeaking out cute little whimpers of nerves.
“Ready?”
I felt her tense up. “Yes, Mark, sir. Oh God…”
Tiny drips splashed her most sensitive places and she shuddered and moaned and rocked in her seat, but she was smiling, making such delicious utterings of shock and excitement and pain.
“That’s my girl.”
I reached for another candle, and red wax met white, and turned pink, pink swirls and splashes on her tender pussy, and streaks on her gorgeous thighs, and her chest was heaving, head tipped back.
“Mr Roberts… please…”
“Good girl…” I teased the wax at her pussy, and the downy hairs of her pulled tight and made her squirm and wriggle. Then I let myself free as the muse called and demanded more. Swirls of red wax across her breasts, splashing her nipples with colour, and she was beautiful. I lit more candles, blue and purple and green, and I decorated her, my beautiful girl in splotches and swirls, colour on colour, blending and pooling on her skin. And then I touched her, I touched her pretty pussy until she bucked at my fingertips, until her eyes were glazed and her breath was short, and the patterns on her breasts rose and fell for me, a living canvas.