High Rise Inferno: Smut Quickie w/ Guest Audio

Another special treat! And on hump day! It’s the talented scribe himself, David, with a reading of my original short, High Rise Inferno! His accent lends that Brit sophistication to my wax play story that melts me into a puddle of “yes sir” even though he’s playing the submissive here. And how about those lips, huh? Fock!

Be sure to check out his blog — Pen Hits Paper — for a delicious mix of smut, music, and heartfelt posts sure to get you thinking and going back for more. For even more of David, check out the introspective guest post he did for me here – Twilight Traveler.

Enjoy!

High Rise Inferno

Naked and prone on the mat Margarita had laid across her penthouse balcony, the urban hum from the streets below retreated from my consciousness. The smoky scent of vetiver candles danced heavily on the windless night. Goosebumps followed the trail her glazed fingers marked across my back. My spine arched and my chin lifted, quite of its own accord, to gaze upon the tabletop fireplace she’d lit in the corner. Its blaze formed a saffron-tinged haze as my tibias burned from the unyielding pressure of concrete against my knees. Her foot, resolute upon my buttocks, was a reminder to hold the position for as long as she desired. 

The seconds ticked by and finally Margarita moved her foot, her toes pressing the plug she’d nestled into my ass. I collapsed on the floor and liberated the breath that had been scorching my lungs, aching for release. Claire had been right. This was bliss. 

Margarita’s words landed softly, comfortingly, the flick of the lighter accompanying the hint of Creole on her tongue.

“Soy candles are best for now. After a few sessions, we can work him up to the beeswax like you.”

She wasn’t talking to me. 

And then, Claire’s whisper was upon my ear.  

“Darling, lean into it. Breathe. And remember your word.”

Before the scent of its ignition reached my nostrils, the first drizzle of wax landed in the valley between my obliques. My groans of delight, muffled into the floor, were quickly rewarded with drips to my shoulders and upper back. Each time the heat met virgin skin, my synapses sizzled into a boil of anticipation. When Claire’s familiar hands reached under me to awaken my cock in time with a long dribble onto my quivering ass cheeks, every nerve ending in my thighs tensed simultaneously. Closing my eyes, I reveled in the sensations — Claire working my shaft firmly and steadily while pushing the butt plug deeper into me; the sting of Margarita’s beautiful assault blooming anew with every coalescence of fresh hot wax melding with the cooling layers tightening on my skin.

My attention splintered. But then, surrendered as I was compelled to allow these contradictions to kindle my soul. The detonation was a fiery climax that pooled across my trembling belly.  

My Claire, still milking my cock, leaned forward to whisper once again.

“If you like that, sweets, just you wait until our honeymoon.”

Written by Carolyna Luna
Read by David

Post Image Credit: David