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“Oh, God... Sir...” She humps the air, fingers flexing at her sides. I bet she’s dying to touch her clit.
A surge of desire courses through me. I could come just from watching her body beg for relief. I pick up a blue candle and light the wick with the purple candle still burning in my hand.
Her legs tremble as I drip more hot wax onto her underwear, warming her pussy through the cloth.
Sweat beads on her brow. The size of the crowd along the perimeter of the room has nearly doubled. Men and women, Doms and subs, watching intently as I torment my little one.
I blow out the candles and set them aside.
“Lift your ass, little one.”
She scans the room, taking in the gazes of the rapt crowd.
“Don’t make me ask again,” I growl.
She raises her hips off the table so I can slide her underwear down and off. I wet my lips at the sight of her smooth folds, glistening like ripe forbidden fruit.
My mouth waters. I pour far too much oil into my palm.
Grace moans as I smooth almond oil all over her mound, sliding my center finger through her folds. Just that slight amount of pressure is enough to make her hips buck, chasing my touch even as it leaves her. She watches attentively as I relight the blue and red candles and begin dripping wax onto the areas I’ve just massaged.
“Spread your legs wider, little one,” I rasp. She opens herself to me. I let out a groan reminiscent of something that spends most of its time in a cave.
A drop of wax lands on her clit.
Her head falls back. “Oh... Please, Sir. I need...”
I know exactly what she needs. It’s the same thing I’m dying to see her do.
“Touch yourself,” I tell her.
Her hand all but teleports to her pussy.
I drip wax onto her breasts, holding the candle close to her skin. She gasps. It’s hotter at this short distance, but she takes the heat like the natural-born masochist she is. I attempt to paint stars and hearts all over her breasts and stomach, but I eventually give up on drawing anything coherent.
The rest of the room and everyone in it fades away, as I watch Grace’s delicate fingers dance over her clit. Her pussy glistens from all the oil, as well as her own wetness. The ebb and flow of her heavy breathing fills my head.
My cock aches like it’s been bruised, and my balls couldn’t be tighter.
I can’t handle the fucking pressure anymore.
I blow out the candles, set them aside, and pull out my cock. My little one’s doe eyes lock on my stiff dick. Her own movements slow as she watches me fist my cock inches from her clit.
“Don’t you dare stop, little one. You’re going to rub that precious little bud until you come for me. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Hooking my hand behind her knee, I hold her thighs open and continue to stroke my dick directly over her pussy. The massage oil allows me to be rough with myself. I fuck into my own fist as if it were Grace’s body, which is where I want to be. Buried inside her, with my thumb on her clit, balls deep in ecstasy.
Grace moans, long and loud, as she shudders, face and neck reddening. Tits jiggling. Hips rocking to meet her own fingers.
She’s coming, and she’s more beautiful than anything my imagination could conjure.
At the back of my mind, I recall that we still have an audience. I’ll flog my little one for hours in front of onlookers, but I only fuck my wife in private. However, I passed the point of no return somewhere between yanking off her panties and grabbing my cock.
I slide two fingers inside her just as the final echoes of her orgasm cause her muscles to contract. I suck air through my teeth as my shaft throbs and goes taut.
Grace gasps as the first shot of translucent white lands on her belly. The rest soon follows in streams and spurts that mingle with the cooling drops of wax. I stroke until my balls are empty, ‘til I have nothing left to give.
