He came home needing to forget. It had been ages since I’d taken the reins, but he needed me to tonight and once again it was because of work. “What happened?”
“We lost two children. One of them was a baby. I need to not think,” he rattled off desperately. For a man who made his living off his mind, he could barely put words together. “Please, Y/N, I need to not think.”
“Shhh,” I whispered, leaning into him and wrapping my arms around his neck. Cradling my head into his neck, I began to rub his back. “I’m here. You don’t have to think anymore tonight, okay?”
Spencer breathed a sigh of relief, his hands slipping around my waist, his very being melting into mine. “Thank you.” It was barely more than a whisper.
“Do you want to be pushed tonight?” I could see the answer in his eyes, but part of this arrangement of ours was that everything always had to be verbalized.
With a definitive nod, Spencer dropped his bag to the floor. I hated him seeing like this, so defeated, so broken. I loved have him willingly at my feet, and it wasn’t always this type of day that brought about him dropping to his knees before me, but on many occasions it did. A bad day at work warranted a wiping of the mind. That was where I came in, and I thanked the stars that I had the ability to make him feel better in any way.
Later on, I’d pick up the tone in my voice - once we were into the scene a little bit, but right now I wanted to comfort him. Speaking softly, I ran my hand down the side of his neck. “Go inside. Strip. Put the blindfold on. Lie down on the bed. I’ll be there in a minute.” He leaned into the kiss I pressed to his cheek and walked toward the bedroom, looking lighter than when he’d walked in the door.
Rushing was not in the cards tonight, so I waited outside for about five minutes, preparing what I needed to take his mind off things. “Are you ready?” I called out from the kitchen and heard him reply.
There was something we’d been thinking of trying, but up until now neither of us had felt ready for it. “What’s our safe word?”
Good. Granted, he wanted to forget, but he had to be clear enough to tell me to stop if need be. “You tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”
Months ago, we’d gone to a sex shop together and bought a bunch of different things we were willing to try. One of them was this special candle wax, but we’d never used it until now. While the wax heated up, I disrobed, getting down to just my panties before straddling his hips.
With mineral oil on hand, I began to rub down his chest. It must’ve clicked in his mind what I was planning on doing because a small smirk came to his face. Mineral oil would allow me to help clean him up much more easily. I’d read up on all of this (and I’m sure he did too) so that this experience could be the safest and best possible experience.
Carefully, I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the candle, which was just beginning to drip. The higher I held the candle, the cooler the wax would be when it hit his skin. I was going to play around a bit and see what he could handle. But first, I watched enraptured by the slow drip of the candle and the gasp that left Spencer’s mouth when the droplet hit. It was purple of course. We’d picked a few different purples to play around with. “Do you like that?” I asked.
He nodded quickly, his beautiful, pliant skin practically aching for any type of touch. Over and over again, I switched between the dark, medium and light purples. Maybe it was cheesy, but right now he was my canvas. His clean skin receiving the wax like a Jackson Pollock painting. “You look wonderful like this. The purple looks amazing on you.” There will little hints of red here and there, his skin welting up ever so slightly under the now hardening wax.
“Can I speak?” He asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“This is amazing.” He laughed and for the first time since he walked in the door I think I actually relaxed myself. “One of these days, you need to be the one down here.”
“Another night, my love,” I replied. His stomach was a perfect painting of shades of purple. I wanted to push him a little further, so I moved the candle upward and lowered the candle just slightly as it dripped on his nipple.
The sharp gasp even took me by surprise. “I’m very wet right now,” I teased. “Would you like a taste?”
When he said yes, I moved off him and pulled off his blindfold. “Touch me,” I breathed. “And watch me as you taste me. Don’t take your eyes off me.”
His hand moved slowly towards my sex, his fingers inching closer and closer toward the arousal that was slipping down my leg. When he put his finger into his mouth, I whimpered. “Should I taste myself?”
He always loved that. Again, he nodded, but this time I told him to touch me and let me taste myself off him. His hands moved much quicker this time. Almost comically so. As he held out his hand, I bent down taking the two fingers into my mouth and suctioning my mouth around them. Something about tasting my arousal off him made the taste better. Wasn’t the greatest thing in the world, but Spencer reacted beautifully, so that was all the encouragement I needed.
“Now I’m going to ride you until you scream my name,” I teased. “No touching. However, noises of any kind are encouraged.”
Biting my lip, I returned to my place above him and pulled my panties aside. As I placed his length at my entrance, he grabbed the headboard, knowing my instructions but struggling to abide by them. “Please fuck me.”
“I plan to,” I replied. The candle wax was now dried upon his skin. With each movement, pieces chipped away. My hands glided over his torso and chest, planting firmly in place when my hips found their rhythm. “Moan for me, Spence.”
In the silence of the apartment, my hips began to grind down against him. He answered my call with a soft whimper that slowly grew into a moan. He wanted to touch me, but like the good sub he was he obeyed my orders, his knuckles turning white against the headboard. When he tried to buck upward into me, I chastised him. “Now is my time.”
My hips began moving in figure eights, my orgasm cresting. “Fuck, I’m gonna come Spence.”
“Please.” The request was punctuated and desperate.
The shaking started slowly, building up as my downward thrusts pushed him over the edge. When he cried out my name, I watched the beautiful contortions of his face; they pushed me over the edge and I lost all control.
Once I came down from my high, Spencer was nearly silent, undoubtedly feeling much lighter than before. I grabbed a cold wash cloth and the scraper that came with the wax to start cleaning him up. I was gentle of course, using aloe on the places that burned more than others. “How do you feel, Spence?”
“Better. Thank you.”
He still had a lot on his mind and honestly I couldn’t blame him. Questions weren’t going to get him anywhere. Not tonight. Instead, I finished cleaning him up and slipped behind him, squeezing him tightly as he drifted off to sleep.