Filth ain't filth if it's funny!
I’ve had some fucked up sex experiences in my life. One of them was when a dude was getting me in the mood with a little kinky foreplay.
I can’t say how long we dated or even if this was our first time fucking. We were laying in my bed, naked. He lit a candle and tilted it over me so that the heated wax dripped and sizzled on my stomach.
The first few drops felt good. A sting, then a cooling kiss. The second round of wax droppings beaded off my stomach and dripped down my side. It stung more than the others and felt like it kept getting hotter, blazing a trail down my skin to the bed sheet.
At first I thought it was just a side effect, maybe I was just more sensitized to the heat the second time around. I smelled an acrid funk. The pain intensified on my side and lower back.
Something was burning and it was me! The sheet under me had caught fire somehow. Not a big inferno, but a smoldering heat that was enough to singe my skin, char the sheet, and deserve a trip to the emergency room.
My tattoo covers up the burn scar, but from now on foreplay consists of oral sex and that’s it. Fuck all that extra shit.
Big Booty Judy