Cruel, Carnal Convent

"Don't go anywhere," she suddenly whispered and kissed my forehead. She didn't leave the room, only rummaging through a dresser on the opposite wall. A little later, I heard a match hiss and saw a plume of white smoke rise. The sweet scent of candle-wax immediately filled my nose.

She turned down the electric light until the room was basked in a soft, warm glow, then she came back, carrying a big, white, burning candle in one hand.

"Lift up your left leg." I did, and she carefully knelt down astride my other leg, shifting forward until her pussy was right above mine and my left leg rested against her chest. Then she let her weight down, and my pussy twinged with pain. She drank in the discomfort on my face.

"I think I'm falling in love with you," I whispered and pressed my pussy harder against hers. She was moist already.

She began to gyrate her hips, her slick skin sliding raw and intense over mine. "Wait until I've shown you all the things one can do with candles before you declare your love, Miranda."

She brushed my clit, and I gasped. "Randy!"

"What?"

"Randy. That's what they call me, because that's what I am, always."

"Randy," she whispered, extending the hand holding the candle, "did you know that white church candles burn most fiercely?"

I didn't get to reply. She tilted the candle, and a large puddle of melted wax dripped down and landed dead center on my already sore nipple. I burned like mad, and my whole body shivered. Her hips moved faster and her breathing picked up speed. She gave it time to cool down, then she dipped the candle over my other nipple. The searing heat was delicious, and I could only whimper in pained delight when she ground her pussy hard against mine.

"I'll have to scrape the wax off with my fingernails," she promised, "before I can do it again. And again."

"I love you!" I moaned.