#876) Is It Hot In Here, or Is It Just Me? Part II

My fiancé had me engaged in a session of temperature play, something we hadn’t experimented with before. He was spanking me with something I didn’t recognize, and couldn’t see because he had me blindfolded.
“What is that?”
“Something you’ve never felt before, but it’s not a new implement,” he answered, clarifying nothing.
He’d struck my left butt cheek three times with this super stingy tool, and I was almost numb already in that specific spot. Whatever it was was very effective, and I had immense respect for it. He rested the implement against my right cheek and pressed slightly. It was metal. It was hot to the touch. Not branding iron hot, not scream-out-loud hot, but uncomfortably hot. The sensation almost made the dildo inserted up my anus pop out like a projectile.
“What is that?” I repeated at a much louder voice level, signaling my alarm.
“A big spoon from the kitchen, the one I use to stir stews…”
It had stirred me up. It was so painful when I didn’t know what it was. Now that I did, it was much more bearable. This truism registered in my brain for future reference, not knowing what lay ahead.
“I want to check-in with you once again. Are you doing okay?” Robert solicited as he massaged my shoulder tension away.
I smiled, appreciating this consideration. I took a deep breath and asked, “Are you going to spank me more with it?”
“Only enough to even-up both cheeks,” Robert replied and gave me four swift swats on the center summit of my right buttock. Catching his error, he said, “Oh, did I give you three or four to being with?”
“Three,” I answered. To which, he administered two more to my left. Seeming to realize that he still wasn’t even, he gave two more stingers to my right cheek, then back and forth like beating a big timpani drum, sometimes down low on the undercurve of my booty, sometimes across the crack, where they resonated right up my bum to my brain. That’s when I realized he was punking me.
He finished with a flourish of alternate swats and pronounced, It’s all about symmetry. That looks about right…”
I blindly rubbed the incendiary warmth and retorted, “It’s all about that bass.”
Robert picked up on my wave length immediately, quoting random lyrics of the Meghan Trainor top tune, and I finished it by reciting, “And no, I won’t be no stick-figure, silicon Barbie doll,” which was the God’s truth. We kissed. I thought that we would make love right then and there. God knows, I was ready and willing, even eager. I whispered, “…Let’s fuck…”
“I have more temperature experiments to carry out,” Robert replied, “hold off… let it build…”
“As you wish,” I answered, quoting a line from one of our favorite movies.
I still dutifully gripped the dildo up my derriere. I felt my lover slowly remove it with the words, “Everything from now on will concentrate on you here,” as he caressed my caboose with circular motions. The dildo had left a gape going on up there, the spoon had left a warmth radiating back there. I felt at once content and hungry.
“What’s next…?” I whispered.
I heard the striking of a match being lit, smelt the sulfur, tried to be patient. Robert blew a stream of cool air onto my parted butt crack, directly onto my anus. It felt like blowing into a fireplace hours after a roaring fire had burned down, the ember of my anus glowed.
Without warning, something ice cold touched me there, making me flinch, making me flex internal and external muscles involuntarily. “What was that?” I near-shrieked.
“An ice cube.” I imagined Robert smirking with delight.
“Oh, duh…” I replied, feeling foolish, but had to remark, “It actually felt red hot!”
He touched me there again, eliciting a lesser reaction. “Now that you know what it is, does it burn?”
“It’s getting tough to tell…” I replied honestly. “I thought losing one’s sense of sight was supposed to sharpen the others…”
“You’re just getting to that place I want you to visit, the reason for all of this,” he answered.
I felt it, on the spot of flesh covering my tailbone, exactly where my buttocks cleft in two, a burning sensation. Again, it wasn’t scalding, but it was hot. I twitched. Another droplet fell and made its presence felt.
“Is that hot wax?”
“Good girl!” Robert praised. “It’s from a massage candle. They’re supposed to burn less hot than regular wax, something about the paraffin content, I guess. Compare that with this…”
A droplet fell on the summit of my left butt cheek, right where the hot spoon spanking had been concentrated. I thought that this was the reason that this droplet burning more.
“That one was from a regular candle.”
“I can tell the difference!”
“Then which candle is this?” he inquired as a droplet fell on my right cheek.
“Right, and this…”
Another drop landed a fraction of an inch lower. “Regular! I don’t like that near as much! It pushes my limits…”
“How about when I hold it higher, further away from you?” Another drop landed.
“I’m not sure which one that was…”
“Good!” he said with finality, then began hitting my bum with drop after drop, driving me lustfully mad, lovingly maniacal.
“Reach back and pull your cheeks apart, Jeanie,” he commanded softly.
I knew what he was planning to do without asking. Part of me wanted it, the biggest part, while a small part feared it. Nonetheless, I obeyed. My entire big butt was coated in a crust of dried wax, like some hard candy-coating shell to a soft-centered nougat under my hands. A droplet fell just above my rosebud’s upper petal. I was sure it was the massage candle wax, but it still startled. With precise aim, my lover waxed my inner crease and outer labia, as professionally as any attendant at the spa where I get depilatory treatments once a month. (It was different while seeming the same, but so much sexier.) I desperately wanted to fuck, and tried to telepathically tell him so. The messages my winking anus and solicitous moans were urgently sending went unreceived or ignored.
I knew that my Top was going to wax my tail, and it exceeded all my expectations. I did not know enough to expect what awaited last among all of these sensations of the evening. Indeed, nothing could’ve prepared me for it.
Robert parted me. He gently inserted something into me. I thought it was the butt plug he got me for Christmas. It was about that same size. I thought it was a plug coated in some special gel. What could it be?
“Tell me what you feel, Jeanie.”
“…Pleasantly penetrated,” I sighed. “By something organic, I think. It isn’t like a slick and smooth metal plug… It was cool going in… but, now feels tingly… Oh! It’s heating up! Is it something electrical, Robert? It’s getting hot! What… is…? Is it ginger root?”
“Bingo!” returned my devious Dom.
I was wriggling like a worm on a hook, writhing like a snake, neither of them the image I like to project, but both apt because my appendages were useless. The ginger root in my rectum burned so intensely, and at the same time, I didn’t want to be the one to wrench it out.
“Take it out! I can’t take it anymore!” I implored. Robert did, but the burning sensation continued unabated, even growing stronger. “Take my mind off it! Take me…!”
My pussy was like an ancient missive from royalty, sealed across the seam with wax. My betrothed broke the seal with his fingers as I threw off my blindfold. Robert’s erection tented the fur lined jockstrap out from his body. As I yanked it down, Robert opened my thighs, then my sex. I cradled his testicles with the furry garment as he gripped my butt with both hands, the waxy build-up coming off in flakes and cakes. All of this happened in the blink of an eye. We joined. We found our rhythm. The yummy congress between my yoni and his cock finally alleviated the singe-sizzle of my figging. I climaxed, getting the urgency out of the way, and we continued our copulatory congress. Only then could I see the fruits of all Robert’s labors. All around us on the floor were the hot plate and pan of water with a long metal spoon still in it, the dildo, popsicle wrappers and sticks and puddles, the candles still burning, and the tan raw root and the carved yellowish plug.
“I’m sorry that I’m such a baby…”
“What do you mean?” he asked, stroking the hair out of my face, stoking the fires that were raging in our loins as he humped me harder.
I picked up the plug that had been up my posterior. “I mean this… I couldn’t take it for very long…”
“You did great! Was the whole experience erotic…fun, at least eye-opening…?”
He saw that I was lost in thought and not listening.
“Try it again!” I burst out.
“Try it again, please. I want to feel the burn again. I want it to spur our fucking into a frenzy…”
Robert picked up a paring knife and took the plug from my fingers. He carved it fresh, so it was juicy. “Are you sure…?”
I nodded and stuck my butt out while still keeping him in my vag. He found my hole and filled it. The burning started where it had left off, that is to say a lot! I fucked my lover like a sex-crazed bunny, humping his phallus, thumping against the floor.
“Okay, take it out!”
He did, but the sensations remained as we bumped together with urgency.
As soon as that started to fade, I urged, “Push it back in!”
Back and forth, in and out of my ass, our fucking grew faster, hotter, more frenetic. Something had to give. Either one or both of us would go into cardiac arrest, or we’d reach release. Fortunately, it was the latter. My climax was so intense, I could not form the words, take it out, so didn’t articulate them, just kept gripping him, milking him, willing the orgasm out of him.
Finally, I was able to reach back and unplug the root from my rump, giggling and whimpering simultaneously as I did so.
“You put… a lot of time… and effort… into this… temperature play… thank you… it was… hot!”
“Want to take a shower with me?” my lover smiled, that little boy still evident.
“Actually… is there any more of that pizza left?”

6 responses to “#876) Is It Hot In Here, or Is It Just Me? Part II”

  1. yes, it was the VERY positeve kind!

    It also falls very much into the idea that I would do just about anything a woman desired if it fulfilled her fantasies. Man there was some hot stuff here! I like to think I’d try it all!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: