Candle wax and shadows

The room was lit only by flickering candlelight—soft gold dancing across the dark walls, shadows moving like whispers. The air was warm, heavy with the scent of vanilla wax and something deeper… something wet.

Aleksandra sat on the edge of the chaise, knees parted, a long white candle in her hand. The flame flickered as she tilted it slightly, letting a trail of molten wax collect at the edge.

She was wrapped in a black silk robe—untied, barely clinging to her shoulders. Her skin glowed. Her thighs glistened.

And when he entered the room, she didn’t look up.

She knew he was watching.

She dipped a finger into the wax. Tasted it. Then finally raised her eyes and said, “Lock the door.”

He obeyed without speaking.

Aleksandra stood, slow and graceful, and let the robe slip from her body.

She was naked underneath—except for a thin choker of red velvet around her neck.

“Lie down,” she said, pointing to the floor. “Hands behind your head.”

He dropped immediately—back flat on the rug, cock already erected from the heat in her voice.

She straddled him, her bare thighs sliding over his hips, her pussy grazing his cock just enough to tease.

Her hand cupped his face.

The other held the candle.

“You don’t get to touch me,” she whispered. “You only get to feel me.”

She tilted the candle.

A single drop of hot wax fell onto his sternum.

He gasped—arched slightly—but didn’t move.

“Good,” she murmured, dragging her fingertips through it as it cooled. “Let me make you beautiful.”

Another drop.

This time, lower—just above his bellybutton.

Then another—closer to his cock.

He was twitching now, breathing fast, cock straining up toward her.

Aleksandra smiled. "You like being marked, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

She leaned in, licked the shell of his ear, and said, “Let’s see how much you can take.”

She raised herself and shifted lower—kneeling between his legs.

His cock stood hard and leaking against his stomach, his balls tight with need.

She tilted the candle again—this time, letting the wax drip onto his balls.

He moaned—deep and ragged—but didn’t flinch.

Another drop.

He shuddered.

“Such a good boy,” she purred, licking a stripe up his shaft, then wrapping her lips around the head. She sucked him slow, one hand gripping his thigh, the other still holding the candle—ready.

As her mouth moved down his length, her wrist flicked, and another drop of wax hit his chest. He gasped, hips jerking, caught between pleasure and burn.

“You want to cum already, don’t you?” she asked, voice breathy against his cock.

“Yes—please—Aleksandra, please—”

She straddled him again.

She rubbed the head of his cock against her soaking pussy, teasing her folds, letting him feel how dripping wet she was.

And then, slowly, so slowly, she slid down onto him—inch by inch—until he was buried deep inside her.

They moaned together.

She rolled her hips—grinding—tight, hot, wet as sin.

And as she rode him, slow and deliberate, she kept the candle raised…and began to drip wax across his chest with every movement.

One drop for every thrust. Every moan. Every clench of her pussy around him.

“You don’t cum until I say,” she growled.

“I can’t—Aleksandra—I’m going to—”

She grabbed his throat lightly. Held him there.

“You’ll fucking hold it.”

And he did.

She rode him harder now—wet sounds filling the room, her thighs slapping against him, her pussy squeezing him tight with every bounce.

The wax painted his chest like a canvas.

Her pussy swallowed him like a prayer.

She was soaked—sliding up and down his cock, hips grinding in tight circles until she was the one gasping, body shaking, her orgasm crashing down on her in waves.

She came moaning his name—high and filthy.

And only then did she whisper, “Cum for me, baby. Give it all to me.”

He exploded inside her—groaning, eyes rolling back, cock pulsing deep in her cunt as she clenched around him, milking every last drop.

She collapsed on top of him, skin slick, chest rising and falling against his wax-covered body.

The candle burned low beside them.

She kissed his lips once.

Then whispered:

“You’re mine now. Melt for me again tomorrow.”

She doesn’t burn.

She pours.

Will you let Aleksandra mark you with pleasure that lingers for days?

AWE YES, I DO!