The first thing I noticed was the sweet, sensuous smell. I twisted my head from side to side, but it seemed to be coming from all around.

“What the hell’s that?” I whispered. “It smells like a Turkish brothel in here.”

“And you’d know, sweetie,” he said, taking his cue as I knew he would. “Don’t you like it?”

“You know I do,” I replied. “It’s sandalwood and rose, my favourite.”

I felt his hand on my arm as he guided me forward. The silken blindfold was much more effective than I’d expected, and I really couldn’t see a thing. I had a feeling the lights were still out, although there must have been some form of illumination. Of course, that explained the scent – it was candles.

A little shiver ran down my spine. He’d gone to some effort to set this up, and I was enjoying it already. The lack of sight just seemed to sharpen my other senses, and I tried to work out where in the room I was.

“Don’t move,” he said softly, and I stood still, swaying slightly. I didn’t feel quite steady, and almost toppled over when I felt his hand on my foot, slipping off my left shoe. I steadied myself on his arm while he removed the other. The carpet felt warm and soft under my bare feet. I wriggled my toes.

Then my mouth went dry as I felt his hand at my back, taking hold of the zipper of my plain black dress. Slowly he pulled it down all the way, one long smooth movement as far as the curve of my bottom. I had enough sense not to move, not to help in any way. For the moment, he was in charge.

The one request he had made was that I shouldn’t wear any undies. I held my breath, as if by inhaling I would break the spell, as his hands slipped under the shoulder straps and gently pulled them off my shoulders and down my arms. I felt the unsupported material slide down over the gentle curves of my bosom and gather around my waist. In the warm silence, I sensed that he was staring at my bared breasts, the pale mounds topped with the dark pink buds of my exposed nipples. The gentle pressure against the dress would have left them stiff and erect. I allowed myself to breathe slowly, my chest rising and falling.

His hands brushed my skin as he eased my dress over my hips, letting it shimmy down my legs and gather round my bare feet. I carefully stepped out of the bundled material, not caring if it got creased or not, just eager to know what would happen next.

“This way,” he whispered, and guided me forwards. After a few tentative steps my thighs bumped up against something soft. I assumed it was a bed, and a shiver ran down my spine. There was usually only one thing that happened when I was naked on a bed with him, and it wasn’t playing Scrabble.

“Lie down on your back.”

I eased myself onto the bed, and did as he instructed. I felt awfully exposed, and this feeling only increased as I felt him ease my legs apart. I had enjoyed a long soothing bath before coming out, and had taken the opportunity to trim the short neat hairs of my pubic triangle; just enough foliage to announce me as a woman, rather than a child or a porn actress. I knew the smooth vertical line of my slit would be clearly exposed beneath the dark patch of curly fuzz. I had a felling it would be glistening with juices already; I knew from touching myself earlier that anticipation had left me very wet inside.

As I lay there, something smooth and silky tickled down my right leg: some sort of material, I guessed. I was just thinking how nice it felt, when I felt it slipping round my ankle.

“Stay still, this won’t hurt.”

I flexed my foot, and realised that I couldn’t move it far; something was holding it in place. It wasn’t hard to work out why; he was securing my limbs to the corners of the bed, spread-eagling my naked body across the covers. Very kinky. We hadn’t really experimented with this sort of thing before, so I was intrigued as well as excited. Whatever did he have in mind?

Soon my hands were secured as well, and I giggled as I pulled on the restraints, which I decided were probably silk scarves. Not leather straps or metal chains, then. This was sensuous rather than rough. I could probably have pulled myself free if I’d wanted, but I definitely had no intention of doing that.

I lay still, straining my ears. The scent of the candles was very strong now; presumably he had them arranged somehow all around the bed. Everything was very quiet, and I felt a momentary flicker of panic. Where was he? What was he doing?

“Sweetheart?” I whispered.

“Shush,” came the reply. Obedient for once, I shushed.

Then I felt something hot next to my cheek. Not touching, just giving out heat and an intense whiff of scent. I momentarily worried about flameproof sheets and smoke alarms, but was distracted by his next words.

“Are you ready?”

“What for?”

He didn’t answer, but I suddenly felt a searing heat on my bare stomach.

“Jesus fuck…” I burst out, but he hushed me.

“Don’t move, just breathe in the scent and you’ll be fine.”

The brief burst of pain had dulled now. My mind span, trying to work out what it was. Then there was more, further up my stomach this time, and I realised what it was. The candles. Hot wax. He was dropping hot wax on me.

“Oh fuck, wow,” I breathed out. “You bastard, that hurts.”

“But you like it, don’t you?” he whispered.

I wished he wasn’t right, but he was. The pain was just enough to arouse and stimulate me, without being unbearable. I flexed my tummy muscles, and could feel the cooling, hardening wax clinging to my skin.

Now I knew what it was, I could picture him leaning over me, letting the candle drip its liquid fire onto my body. Each fresh stream of hot wax hurt briefly, then dulled as it cooled. I felt a stream dribble down my leg, and couldn’t help thinking it was more fun than the usual process of getting a leg wax.

“Is it very hot?” he asked gently.

“Yes, but don’t stop,” I breathed. I really didn’t want him to; I was so enjoying the sensation. The heady scent of sandalwood and the heat of the wax were almost intoxicating.

“Perhaps you’d like me to cool you down a bit.”

I was about to tell him not to, when there was an equally sudden burning sensation on my tummy. At first it felt exactly like the wax, but then I realised it wasn’t hot at all, it was ice-cold. But coming directly after the hot wax, the burning sensation was very similar. And then I got it.

“Shit, that’s ice, isn’t it,” I surmised. “Have you got a bucket of the stuff?”

“Clever girl, that’s right, with some champagne for later,” he said with what I could tell was a smile. “Cold after hot, hot after cold. Rather effective, don’t you think?”

He rubbed the ice up and down my leg, then round and round, circling my pudenda. I let out a squeak as it slid over my slit, then swore as he pushed it between my labia and into my vagina.

I let out some more choice words that no lady should ever use as I felt the ice-cold burning inside my normally warm passage. Then I felt something else penetrating me, something long and thick, pushing the ice cube deeper.

“I’m glad I bought a few extra big candles,” he observed. “They’re good for other things as well as burning.”

I felt the candle moving inside me, twisting and turning, rubbing against my warm squishy vaginal walls, pressing against my special soft spot. The ice cube must have melted, because I felt quite a lot of liquid running out of my slit and down my thighs. Of course, it might not have been just melted ice.

“Ah, Jesus fuck, I’m going to come,” I swore again.

“Oh, I don’t think so, not yet anyway,” he said, and I felt him let go of the candle, leaving it resting inside me. I just wanted to get to my clitoris to finish myself off, but that obviously wasn’t part of the plan.

Instead, it was back to the wax. So far, it had been mostly on my stomach and legs. Then there was a pause, before I felt a fresh stream splashing directly onto my left nipple.

“Argh, Christ,” I gasped.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed. I guessed he must be getting very turned on at the sight of my naked body spattered with streams of wax. I wished I could see it myself, but not knowing where each drop was going to fall made it even more exciting.

Next it was my right nipple’s turn. Now I knew what to expect, I started to enjoy the sting of pain as each drop hit my skin, followed by a duller tingle as it cooled and hardened.

He was definitely focussing on my breasts now, and I could feel dribbles of wax running down the sides of first one, then the other. Every now and then, he got another ice cube and slid it over my breasts, cooling them down before the next helping of melted candle. Soon, I could feel that both of my nipples were totally coated in wax. The scent of sandalwood and rose was so strong I was surprised I could breathe.

At last the sensation stopped, and I felt his lips on my cheek, kissing me gently, nuzzling into my neck.

“I think it’s time for you to see.”

“Ok,” I whispered, and I felt his hands loosening the silken blindfold. I blinked as he pulled it away, the light of the candles around the bed brighter than I’d expected, arranged on various chairs and tables. I looked down at my body and giggled. It was coated in streams of hardening wax, and there was so much on my breasts that I almost seemed to be wearing a wax bra. I could also just see the end of the big candle still sticking out of my vagina.

I hadn’t thought about whether he was already naked too, but he was, his large penis sticking up at around 45 degrees, as it always did when he was fully aroused. He kissed at my shoulder, his teeth nipping at my soft skin.

“Shall I untie you?”

“In a minute, but first I need you to fuck me. Like this.”

“You want this, do you?” he smiled, his penis bouncing in front of him. I thought for a moment he was going to tease me even more by refusing, but in the end he straddled me, his hairy thighs against my smooth ones. He removed the candle, and positioned his penis against the entrance to my hole, rubbing it against my labia.

“Here’s something else hot and hard for you,” he smiled, and with one slick movement pushed it into me. I was so wet that it slid straight in, and I was almost coming even before he slid his hand down and stroked it up and down against my hard little clitoris. As he thrust in and out with a steady slurping sound, I let myself go and orgasmed noisily, pressing back against him so vigorously that lumps of wax broke off and fell onto the bed.

He was clearly as aroused as I was, and it wasn’t long before I could tell from his face that he was about to ejaculate. With a gasp and a shudder, he shot his load of semen into me, spurt after spurt, deep and hard. I thought he was never going to stop. Finally he withdrew, his penis slick with a mixture of our juices, and began to untie me. I put my arms around him and felt the last pieces of hard wax on my breasts break between our bodies as I kissed him long and passionately. I fondled his softening penis with my hand, confident that with a bit of attention it wouldn’t be long before it was hard again. The evening wasn’t over yet by a long way.