Candle Man


Rustling over the rocks in the driveway, she parks the car, eager to leave behind the complexities of the workday. She fantasizes about a long hot bath after a longer day. Exiting her car, she turns back to ensure that she has taken everything she needed before she went inside. Assured and ready to be home, she walks up to her front door, unlocks it, and enters.

She turns on the lights to the first floor and places her handbag on a side table next to the stairs as she begins making her way to the second floor. A slow satisfied smile sweeps soundly across her face as she makes it to the bathroom and further visualizes her naked body bathing in a pool of warm bubbles, kissing and caressing every arch and curve from her breasts to her legs. She imagines slowly dipping into the smooth balmy water, smelling the sweet aromas of her scented candles, and watching the newborn flames dance – swaying back and forth to the rhythm of her erotic thoughts. Butterflies wildly flutter in her naval. She can not wait.

Reaching down for the faucet, she starts her bath. Before walking out of the bathroom, she dims the lights and turns on the bathroom radio, creating a sexy ambiance throughout the room. Smooth Jazz immediately strikes through the dull silence "Perfect" she whispers.

She enters her bedroom, flips up the light switch next to the doorway, and begins removing her clothes: her shoes, socks, work pants, watch and jewelry, placing them all on her bed. She starts removing her blouse, unbuttoning it from the bottom up. Just as she is about to free the last button keeping the two sides of her shirt connected, she catches a glimpse of the moon outside her bedroom window. She makes her way to the window, and peers through the slightly opened curtains at the moon and the slumbering lunar-kissed street. Opening the window, she shivers with excitement at the first night-time breeze that hits her bare skin. Considering how good the cool air feels flying up her still buttoned shirt, she imagined how much more pleasing a nice hot bath would be.

No sooner than she finishes this thought, does she notice a distinct change of sound in the distance. As she resolves that the running water of her bath had ceased, her minor skepticism quickly turns to unsettling anxiety as a chill drives up her spine, destroying the excitement she had built. Diverting her attention from the window, she sees what may be the most frightening thing that she's ever seen in her life: a dark arm reaching through the doorway, making its way to the light switch. Terror-stricken, she could do nothing but watch a dark hand kill the lights to her bedroom.

The loss of bedroom light, created a platform for a dim figure to fill the doorway. Recognizable only by a shadowy outline that the far-off lights of the first floor created, a rather tall man stood motionless in the doorway. Her heart pounds out of control and her body begins to shake, coupling her total lack of vocal ability. The shady figure slowly takes two steps into the room, closing the door behind it. Now she stands defenseless in a pitch-black room, save for fledging moon-light, with an unseen man threatening every stitch of the safety and comfort of being home.

She can not see his face, only his arm baring a large leather-bound hand in the pastel moon-light. His arm disappears behind him only to reappear accompanied by a long thick steel blade. Tears leak steadily from her eyes, warming her skin which had been made cold by either the cool air from outside or her own fear. Still, she remains speechless.

The man begins to walking toward her, swinging the blade like a pendulum at his side, reflecting pale light upon her. Thinking the worst, she closes her eyes, standing helplessly, listening to the encroaching menace. Each passing second is an eternity gripping and daunting her. She hears his breath piercing the wind-cooled air, feels the distance between them gradually dwindling, and submits to a sharp sense of anguish. Several times, she considers doing something, anything, to escape this darkness but she is utterly lost in it; her body would not move, the presence has shaken and locked her in place from head to toe. Never before has she felt such dread and despair as she has this night...

Seconds go by and nothing happens, the deafening silence knots her. Is he gone? Is this all just a hallucination? Slowly opening her eyes, she gets her answer. Though she still can not see his face, the moon has now fully illuminated the rest of him. Looking down, she sees him raising the blade toward her throat; panic washes over her mind and body like an ethereal tidal wave. In her first attempt to resist what's happening, she darted her hands to the defense of her neck. A low rumbling grunt comes from the overpowering figure in front her, followed by an even lower baritone voice, "Turn around..." it says. Shaking with fear, she reluctantly obeys the command as the words "please don't hurt me!" replay over and over again in her head.

At that moment she notices the man's reflection in the window, noting that his face is masked and his figure is significantly larger than her own. Though she can hardly see past the tears now gushing from her eyes, she sees the dagger-wielding hand reach around her right side. Her eyes follow the blade until it cuts away the remaining button holding her blouse together. The cloth of her blouse falls to her sides then rises in the stiff wind emerging from the window. The gentle breeze she once enjoyed now feels frigid, hardening her exposing skin. "Don't move, don't speak" says the stranger, in a slow dreadful whisper, "You anything, you say anything, and I'll Kill You..." Her well of tears has now run dry. She takes a breath, closes her eyes once more, and believes that whisper to have sealed her fate.

She gasps! The steel blade is now crawling across her stomach... slow yet, to her surprise, painlessly. It smoothly travels past her naval, along her waistline, then around her back. She jolts. The edge continues its trip, up her spine, over her shoulder, and across her chest. The knife switches to his left hand and he removes the leather glove from his right. The vacant palm presses against her skin then proceeds to make the same journey around her body that the dagger had; just a slow, and just as smooth. As his hand is about to mount over the hill of her shoulder, "What are you going to..." she says, unable to control herself.

Quickly the man grips of face. "Shut UP! I thought I told you not to speak!" he barks, darkly raising his voice. The blade rises in strike position. She looks, and before she could even scream it swoops down aimed directly at her heart. One cut, and she is dead... Or so she thinks.

She looks downs with her eyes flickering open. This time, the knife does not touch her; instead it severs the connection between the fronts of her bra, uncovering her breasts. He removes his hands from her completely and the sound of sheathing is heard through the silence. She stands still, listening to the wind whistle its way through the window, breathing life to the otherwise deadening stillness. She is cold, very cold, but she dare not disobey the stranger again. Her body is stiff and hardened from the chilly wind, her legs toughed, her breast firm, and her nipples erect. Although she stands ready to face the horrors this night has wrought, she hears nothing, and upon glancing toward the window, she sees nothing... his reflection, it has vanished.

Unsure of what to believe, she remains in the same position for some time, all the while tensely taking hastened breaths, waiting for the return of dreadful whispers, steel blades, and fear. Nothing comes. All she is left with is the cold and darkness. Before long, she barters whatever fright she has left for the consciousness stolen from her. She looks around cautiously for the apparent apparition, but there is no sign of his presence to speak of; it is as if he's completely disappeared. "..." She closes her eyes again. Though she can not see him, though she can not hear her, though she can not feel him, she knows he is still with her, somewhere in the shadows...waiting...watching.

She takes several small steps toward her bed. She needs no light, because she is now completely aware of him. He is directly behind her, but she is unafraid. "If he was going to hurt me, he would have done it by now" she concludes. Suddenly, her skin is reacting to the feeling of cloth sliding over it as he slowly draws the remnants of her shirt and bra to the floor. He places his hands on her waist and draws her closer to him until their bodies touch. His body is warm to the touch, heating her cold body. His head moves close to her neck and she hears his slow exhale sail past her ear like the wind wafting through the window. His massive hands cup her breasts and he kisses her neck deeply, her knees go weak and her legs buckle. He has NO idea of the ignition he has just set off in her.

She cannot explain, not even to her own consciousness, why she is exited. In a split second, inexplicable arousal destroys her apprehension. She wants him. Every stroke of his hands around her breast, every breath he takes, every time his kisses her, she wants more. Each passing second, she feels her control slipping, slipping, slipping, till finally, she can't contain her lust any longer. Regaining the strength in her legs, she turns around and quickly overpowers his grip intended to keep her from falling. Throwing her arms around his shoulders, she locks his lips with hers. Dominance between them shifts immediately. She pulls his face down to hers and continues assaulting his mouth, until she feels his embrace around her back. With an immobilizing grip, surprisingly gentle enough to keep from harming her, he lifts her from the ground. In response, she wraps her legs around his body and feels his bulge pressing up against her through his pants. Rocking her hips against his body, she makes his dick stand and press against her wet pussy. Dropping down, she feels more it. Standing on the balls of her feet, she maintains a persistent lip lock while reaching down and rubbing his solid bulge with both hands. Falling to her knees, she attends to fully swallow his cock but barley gets near it before he grabs both of her wrists with one hand, lifts her to her feet, and tosses her to the bed.

Landing on the bed, she feels no threat from his use of force; it only excites her even more. Though she can only see a vast outline of the dark stranger, she knows that with the pale moonlight still streaming through the window, he could at least see what she is about to do. Leaning back on the bed, she put two fingers in her mouth before reaching under the elastic band of her floral-laced panties, introducing them to moist and glistening vagina while the fingers on her other hand massage her breasts. She releases sharp moans, reveling in self-ecstasy strengthened by the glare of the dark stranger. Knowing that he is watching brings her a level of excitement and pleasure that she's never known before.

Her activities intensify. Rubbing her clit, she jolts, but is in need of something more. "Uuhh... Come...Come to me" she says through passionate pleasure tones. The moonlight is denied as he draws near, only to return as his body sinks down. He pulls her until her ass is at the edge of the mattress. Slowly, he guides her panties down and off of her body. Her knees bend her legs back to the bed and he spreads them as if to assist a butterfly to open its wings. He leans in and breaths on her outer lips, barley nudging her hood with his mouth, warming everything between her legs. He teases more and more moans from her before finally feeding her desires. A loud gasp joins her eyes bursting open from his tongue, long and smooth, making first contact with her pussy. Moving from wall to wall, from clit to lips, he uses his tongue masterfully, lightly lashing her luscious skin, listening to lovely little moans knowing that she truly loves every lick. Her legs tremble at the sheer magnitude of his expertise, and within sixty seconds, she feels herself about to cum. Closer and closer, her climax draws near, almost here. Again, she gasps, but this time, it wasn't out of pleasure, it was because he stopped. "What? No, don't sto..." she began desperately. "Ssshhhhh" he hissed. He raises his head and smiles to himself for he knows the evident truth of the matter. Her want and need for him is undeniable. She is his, mind and body.

He watches her yearning, writhing in painful pleasure as her entire body pulsates for him. It is almost torturous for him to leave her in this state. He is unsure whether he was quelling or fueling her fire when his fingers enter her. "Ahh, oohh, yea, Yeah..." guides his search for her G-spot while is thumb remains outside her walls, stimulating her clit. She holds back as he comes close to finding her spot, and frantically tries to hold back when he does. Though she does not want to alert him to his success, her body tells him more clearly than she ever could. With his fingers still warmly nestled inside her, exploiting her defenseless inner core, he moves his head back down between her legs. It isn't long before she explodes into the best screaming orgasm of her life.

She falls back onto the bed while her juices flow from her body like a river, she looks up at the ceiling in a daze, wondering how the pleasure she just experienced is possible. The dark stranger, feeling triumphant, fades once again to the shadows of the room and, before she realizes what he is doing, slips out of the room, leaving it as dark and cold as he entered. She sits up on her bed, legs still shaking from the whole ordeal. Suddenly, it hits her. Making her way to the window, she quietly thanks the man as she watches him exit through the front door and get into a car. Applauding his ability to not only disguise his voice and his scent, but to frighten her to tears, satisfy her long dormant rape fantasy, and make her cum harder than she's ever come all in the same night. Smiling in the red and blue lights emerging from the car parked outside, she takes one last look before it disappears down the road, and bids farewell to her law enforcing husband.

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