#347) The Lesson from a Candle

In education, the term for it is “teachable moment.” Say you have a lesson plan all worked out, and as you’re introducing it to the class, a student asks a really good tangential question, or makes a really cogent comment. A good teacher will take advantage of that, postpone the rest of the lesson plan in order to capture their imagination, pursue this related topic of interest.
Yesterday I posted “Like a Moth Drawn to the Flame” about the punishment of a lit candle being inserted up a submissive’s butt to teach her a lesson. Regular-reader, Christian_who, made a comment about something my story reminded him about. This, in turn, reminded me of a true event from long ago. I think you’ll like this sexy recollection.
I’d just moved to Los Angeles to model, was just twenty, had shown potential, but hadn’t done much yet, and my bank account showed it. I lived in a tiny studio apartment, made do with recycled furniture and furnishings. I had a second date scheduled with a cute guy named Jim for that night. Back in those days, I had a firm rule that I didn’t have sex until the third date, so this one was just to get to know him better. I was cooking a meal for him, a way for him to get to know more about me. As I prepped things, I whittled a candle taper so that it’d fit into the spout of an old chianti wine bottle; I planned to have candlelight only, so my apartment would look better than it was. The candle looked really good by the time I was done with it, so I decided I wasn’t done with it. I peeled my pants down and masturbated with it, first in my pussy, and then up my anal-erotic ass, as my fingers finished me off in my vag. It made me climax really well. Then I wiped it off and put it in the bottleneck’s opening. It’d serve as a sexy reminder of how nasty I can be. I lit the candle and finished getting ready for Jim.
The dinner date was a great success. The meal was tasty, the company even better. We started to make-out on the couch that converted into my bed. I interrupted the kissing to be clear.
“We can kiss, you can fondle me, but we’re not going to make love tonight,” I informed him sweetly.
“Why not? I really like you!”
“I really like you, too, Jim, but it’s a rule I have, and it’s a hard and fast rule. Sorry!”
“Seems like a dumb rule to me,” he sulked.
“It seems dumb to me, too, at this moment, but I’m going to stick to it. I’m stubborn that way… Maybe you’ll have to spank me for my stubbornness, if we have a relationship, as I think we might…”
Jim had one hand in my pants inside my underwear, and the other in my blouse underneath my bra. He kissed my mouth, then said, “I’d like that.. both the relationship part, and the spanking part…” and he squeezed an ass cheeks and felt my nipple harden.
I’d cast out a feeler, and Jim had seized upon it like it was a dry fly and I was a fisherwoman and he was a big trout. I liked to playfully suggest spankings on dates to see what reaction I’d get. Jim’s reaction was perfect. He showed promise as boyfriend/Dominant material. We kissed more, I confessed that his hand cupping my tit felt nice, but that the one cupping my buttock felt really nice, that I was extremely anal erotic. He asked again if I wouldn’t relent and let him spend the night. I smiled, said no, showed him to the door with what I was sure was a pair of very blue balls.
The evening had gotten me just as riled-up. By this time, my new favorite play toy that candle had burned down to about three inches in length. Undeterred, I extinguished its flame, pulled it out of the bottle, inserted its butt end up my butt and masturbated with it hard there while I fingered my wet pussy all the harder. My pussy’s juices got all over everything, my fingers, my anus, the candle. I came. Suddenly, the small candle slipped out of my grasp and disappeared up my ass hole! I freaked-out! That’s why they make dildos with big flange ends, to not be able to do that, I told myself angrily. I inserted a finger up my rectum and could feel the candle in there. I inserted two fingers up my tight hole, but could not grab the small candle. Now I really freaked! I envisioned going to the emergency room, having to tell nurses and doctors my lurid tale of masturbating with a candle and losing it up my butt! At this moment, this seemed as embarrassing as having a pet gerbil up there! What was I going to do? In a last ditch effort before I put clothes back on and drove the walk of shame to the ER, I squatted down and pushed. The little candle popped right out of my butt with an onomatopoeic “poot”. Thank God!
My elated exuberance only lasted a second. You were very nasty doing that, I told myself. You need to learn a lesson from this, I told myself. I got my wooden hairbrush and began giving my bared bottom a really stern thrashing. I beat my butt for all it was worth! I took a breather, thought about how hot Jim was, thought about how close I’d come to having to go to the emergency room for a candle extraction from my rectum, got up and gave myself another punishing round with the hairbrush. I did that about five times, until my poor posterior was completely worn out. Only then, with the aid of a little more (candle-less) masturbation was I able to fall asleep.
The next day, Jim phoned me.
“I don’t want to seem too eager, but I really like you,” he said.
Blushing, I returned, “I really like you, too, Jim! I hoped you wouldn’t hate me for sending you away frustrated last night…”
“No, that’s okay” he fibbed. “But I’d like to see you again. Would tonight be too soon?”
“Not for me,” I stated openly.
“Why don’t I come by and pick you up and we go to the new movie that just…”
“Stop! That’ll be our third date, Jim. That’ll satisfy my rule. Why don’t I come by about seven and we pick-up where we left off making-out and let nature take its course. I think we mesh really nicely intellectually, emotionally, psychologically. Why don’t we see if we mesh as well physically?”
“Are you saying…?”
“I’m saying I don’t want to wait through a long movie just to say we dated before finding out if we have as much rapport in bed as we do everywhere else!”
“…I’ve never met another girl like you, Jeannie!” Jim finally uttered.
“No, you haven’t! I’ll see you at your place at seven, I’ll be judging you by how clean your place is, especially the bathroom. I’ll also demand total honesty from you. Think you can handle that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Great! See you then!”
I bathed, dreaming that Jim would be caressing my bare skin, smelling the soap scent. I dressed with a nice matching bra and panties set, but not my best lingerie because I was hoping Jim would rip this pair off me, get it covered with our sexual fluids. I wore clothes that were suggestive but not raunchy. I rang his doorbell promptly at seven P.M.
The second he answered I kissed his mouth passionately, pressed my body against his. We had trouble closing the door behind us blindly, but we did.
“I told you I wanted honesty from you, so answer carefully,” I demanded when we came up for air from the embrace. I hit him with questions like machine-gun fire. “Did you have blue balls last night when you left my place?”
“Yes, definitely!”
“I thought so, I’m sorry for that. Did you masturbate to alleviate them?”
“Yes.”
“Did you think about me when you did?”
“Yes.”
“I jilled-off, too, and thought only of you! We’re well-matched! Do you still think my ‘third date rule’ is as stupid as you did last night?”
“More so!”
“Me, too! What do you want to do about it…?” Jim sat on his couch, took me by the wrist and started to pull me over his knee. “Right answer,” I interrupted, “but hold your horses for just one minute more. I need to tell you something about me, Jim. Last night, do you remember the candlelight during dinner?” He nodded. “When you left, I masturbated with that candle.” Jim’s eyes grew bigger. I thought his crotch did, too. “I used it up my butt as I diddled my vag; remember how I told you I was anal?” He nodded more vigorously. “The candle slipped out of my fingers and slipped all the way up my butt; that’s how sex-crazed I am! It took me forever to fish it out! Now, are you sure you want to get involved with a sexual maniac like me?” Jim nodded once again. “Well, I warned you…” and I crawled over his lap.
He stripped off his clothes, but Jim was one of those who prefers to spank by layers. He spanked the seat of my slacks. He stood me up, pulled this garment down, put me back in place and spanked the seat of my cute underwear. He stood me up. My eyes were burning with desire as I looked down at my new lover. I wanted my ass to burn as hotly. I pulled my panties down myself while staring at him, saying with my smoldering look that I dared him to spank me as hard as I wanted it. I re-assumed the position and arched my red ass up in into his face. Jim took the challenge. He blistered my butt. Only after about five minutes of unrelenting thrashing did he pause to make a remark.
“Your bottom is already bruised…”
“I spanked myself hard with my hairbrush for being so stupid as to lose a candle up my butt… I need a man in my life to do that for me…”
Jim leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Consider this my job application for that unfilled position. I think I’m well qualified…” He reached down below to be able to finger my pussy from underneath as he continued my spanking. I climaxed. He didn’t miss a beat, just kept spanking me. He landed the job for sure right then. But he didn’t stop there. He pushed one, then two jism-coated fingers up my rosebud and spanked me even harder. I nearly lost my mind!
“Fuck! That’s GOOD! Don’t stop! Oh, fuck! My butt…!” I came again, harder.
“I think you dislocated my fingers!” he joked referring to the way I clenched down.
“I don’t care, keep them up there!” I demanded as I twisted around and mounted him face-to-face. “…I normally prefer doggy position… but I have to look in your eyes right now…” I babbled.
“I understand,” he replied and kissed me. I provided all the motion, grinding my vagina into him from our seated postures. Our lips parted only when we had to breathe, and he continued as if uninterrupted, “or should I say that I ‘overstand’? I’m going to love Topping you!
“I’m a handful…” I commented truthfully.
“I can see that…” and he withdrew those fingers from out of my anus to grip both cheeks with a big handful of ass flesh with both hands.
“Very funny,” I responded to his jibe.
“Seriously, I find this big ass a huge turn-on!”
I was self-conscious with the compliment so deflected it. “I love how you spanked it so soundly, even though it was already marked! I need that…”
Jim chose this romantic moment to inspect the two fingers that he’d lodged so deeply up my butt, he even sniffed them, thought for a moment, then said, …Hum… smells like candlewax…?”
I slugged him on the shoulder, but am sure that I blushed almost as red as my ass.
Jim got us back on a romantic footing by looking into my eyes and quoting a poem by heart.
“I burn the candle at both ends, it will not last the night. But oh my foes and all my friends, it gives a lovely light.”
I melted. Fortunately, before I could turn into a puddle, he flipped me off from on top of him so that I landed on all fours on his couch, and he entered me from behind and fucked me hard and fast. We climaxed in unison. It felt like we belonged together. We stayed together for almost a year, one of my more successful liaisons.
Furthermore, Jim was good luck. That first week as a couple I booked a modeling gig for Lear jet aircraft. (I’m sure I got it because I looked good while sweating profusely. The ad agency knew that they’d be shooting the photos without turning on the jet’s engines, so it wasn’t air-conditioned.) With my first paycheck, I bought (among other things) a thick dildo with heavy veins and a circumcised head. But most importantly, it featured a flange base, so it couldn’t get lost inside any of my orifices!

8 responses to “#347) The Lesson from a Candle”

  1. And so my good old nymphomaniac friend, Angelika, is also ennobled by your text.
    I’m sure she would be able to read it, she would immediately reintroduce a candle anal.
    Jean-Marie, if I were a little younger, I would ask you to marry me. You are the super woman.

    Liked by 4 people

  2. Great memoir episode Jean-Marie. I have to wonder how this story would unfold from Jim’s perspective. How would he tell it? Thanks for keeping us so well entertained with your daily blog posts!

    Liked by 3 people

  3. A great story as usual. Like Christian _who if I were younger I too would be a seeker for your hand.
    But after reading your post today it wouldn’t be just your hand.
    If you had passed gas while the candle was lodged in your bottom it would truly be “A Candle In The Wind”
    (I couldn’t resist that)

    Liked by 1 person

    • That pun is groan-worthy! I should call you punfan instead of paddlefan. I’m slowly writing a story our dialogue inspired about a couple splitting-up, splitting-up their toy collection.
      Warmly,
      JM

      Liked by 1 person

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