Wax on, wax off

I decided to work on the “Julianna and the Realtor” story this week, and I wrote Julianna’s first ever wax scene. It’s also the first wax scene I’ve ever written. Those of you who’ve done wax play will have to let me know how I did.

The wax top’s name was Paul, and he was only too happy to do Julianna’s first wax scene with her. “Not too much,” she said. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.” He gestured toward the table. “Do you want me to do your back or your front?”

Julianna gave me a sly look. “My breasts, please.”

Paul nodded. “Let me just wipe down the table, and then we can get started.”

While he did that, Julianna undressed. I could see her fingertips shaking a bit — I knew she was nervous about doing this around people she didn’t know and weren’t in her industry — but she’d committed to the party, and she was clearly very interested in trying this out. She shimmied out of the dress and unhooked the bra, handing them both to me; I folded them and set them on a barstool, along with Julianna’s shoes. Wearing just her panties, she hitched herself up onto the table and stretched out, face up, arms at her sides. I knew she didn’t love being on her back in front of people like this — her breasts were large enough to shift to the sides, which she felt was unflattering — but I guess with her mask on she could manage it.

Paul picked up a bottle of baby oil. “I’m going to put this on your skin, to make it easier to remove the wax. Are you okay if I touch your upper body, including your breasts?”

Julianna nodded and I saw her hands clench into fists. I tried to stow away my jealousy — another man was touching my Julianna in places where only I was supposed to touch her — and mostly succeeded. After all, she wasn’t going to get into a relationship with him; he was just going to drip hot wax on her.

To his credit, Paul moved in a businesslike fashion as he spread the oil over Julianna’s shoulders, breasts, upper stomach, and upper chest. She glistened in the low lights of the room once he was done.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” She sounded very sure of herself, but I could tell she wasn’t — again, being an actor had its perks.

The first candle was plain white; Paul held it above Julianna and tipped it, and wax began falling. Julianna squirmed and hissed at first, but by the fourth or fifth drip she must have been used to it because she just held still. I was close enough to see the line of white spots forming almost a solid line between her breasts.

Then he moved the candle to one side and started making his way up the slope of Julianna’s right breast. Her curves quivered ever so slightly, her nipples betraying either nervousness or arousal — or both — and when the wax hit one, she whimpered. But it was a good whimper, the kind she made when I was teasing her, holding her on the edge of orgasm.

I wondered how much time it took to learn how to do wax play. If she enjoyed it, I would be glad to do it.

Once Paul had a base layer of white drips on Julianna’s chest, he switched to a red candle and repeated the process. Then, with a green one, he focused on her left breast, dripping over and over with little plops, in almost a spiral pattern, until he let a tiny stream of wax fall and splatter right over her nipple. He had a second green one that he used to repeat the process on her right breast.

Through it all, Julianna’s breathing was growing quicker. Like the other woman from before, she had her legs tight together, and I could see her toes curling and clenching as the wax fell. Paul had a satisfied expression on his face; I wondered exactly what he got out of this, wondered if I would be as pleased about doing it as he was, if I were to try it.

Once Julianna’s breasts were mostly covered with wax, Paul switched from candles to his knife. I could tell now that the blade wasn’t sharp; he was just using it to get under the layer of wax, so he could remove it. It lifted easily — must have been the baby oil — but he was moving the knife slowly, almost sensually, especially when he ran it over her nipples. She whimpered a little each time it touched her there, and I couldn’t help feeling a bit conflicted. On the one hand, Julianna was enjoying herself and I loved seeing it; on the other, someone else was making her make noises that only I was supposed to cause. I fought down the second part enough to feel a little pressure between my legs, and then did my best to ignore that because I was fairly certain I wasn’t going to be getting any release until we got home.

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