Photography by Tony Ward, Copyright 2017
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Poetry by A. H. Scott, Copyright 2017
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THE WICK
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She knew the wick would always bring her joy
He knew the wick should never be treated as a toy
The room was dark when she arrived
He closed the door behind her and she stepped inside
Ivory candles burned in the silver candle holder on the marble mantle
Above the bookcase filled with first edition masterpieces, she gazed
As he prepared the dining room table for their supper together, a whistle came
Tea kettle of brass suddenly sounded, almost as if it were time for high tea
She walked into the kitchen and removed it from the stove
He called her into the dining room, “The table is set, dear one”
Dressed in blue satin robe, she looked at the surprise he set for her
On the polished dining room table of dark wood, a white, silk sheet lay
“Oooh, for me, my kind sir?” ,her lips formed a coy smile
Patting his hand on the center of that table, both knew suppertime had arrived
Her soft form climbed onto that oak structure and laid still
This lady of charm knew this man’s common drill
“Lay still, my dear one” ,he said calmly and walked across the room
She closed her eyes and waited for the desired surprise
From the mantle, his left hand held a silver candle holder and approached her
“Do you trust me?” ,slyly snickering a question to her
Placing her hands onto pubic area, she knew the right answer, “Beyond my wildest heart”
Drops of candle wax dripped onto her shoulders, she winced a bit
“More?” ,he asked
“Yes” ,she replied
Next came those plush breasts, as even nipples were coated with melted ivory candle
Then came a few tidbits against those soft hands that covered her pubic area
She gasped and he placed the silver candle holder down onto the edge of the table
“Shall I continue, my dear one?” ,he asked
“Yes” ,she sighed
She knew what would come next with the word of affirmation to him
He picked the candle out of the silver candle holder and she removed her hands from pubic area
“Are you ready, lady of mine?” ,he wanted an answer
Whispering a reply, she swallowed her pride, “Anything for you, kind sir”
Both of them knew the pleasure of the wick and the glimmer of pain that came with it
Dark brown pubic area received a trickle of ivory upon those velvety hairs
Her entire body began to quiver a bit with the heated liquid upon it
Blowing a little stream of cooling air in that area, he wished her discomfort to be temporary
“Oooh, that feels nice, kind sir” ,she was relieved
The partially melted candle was placed upside down in the area of her moist mound
She looked as if she were the wick from the other end to him
The sight of her with a candle extruding from that sliver of softness was a delight
Yet, now it was his turn to be the wick that would fill her into the long night
Tenderly, he flicked off every flake of dried candle wax from her flesh
She giggled as it was removed from her nipples, for those were ever so sensitive to the touch
Tiny dots of wax remained affixed to her pubic hairs
No problem, for when they finished she would take a warm shower
His wick was never waning
Sturdy and strong, he could last mighty long
Her body moved with his on top of her
That table had a supper of succulence for the both of them
Pair of bodies sighed and heaved in joys of comfort
Yet, when it was over, the greatest treat was receiving a showering from him upstairs
Upstairs they stood in the bathroom
He whispered, “Are you ready to be cleaned, my dear one?”
“Yes, kind sir” ,stepping into the shower
Warm water drizzled over her body
As she stood with front facing him, silver brush in his hand cleaned wax away
He began to brush her pubic hair lightly
She sighed slightly, as he did this
Working brush up her stomach, she whispered, “Clean me, kind sir”
Hesitation was never his friend, as bristles rounded her breasts
Nipples that had been coated with wax, were irritated by those bristles
Gazing in her eyes, he was proud she didn’t scream
This was a woman whose pride of self control began to beam
Placing brush onto porcelain counter, he helped her out of the shower
She dressed back into the mink that given her to wear to his home
Pampered pet of a wealthy man’s desire was always well taken care of
As she kissed him farewell for the night, her present from him was that knowing grin
She was ever so glad her friend introduced them a few years before
If not meeting this kind sir, this lady’s life would have truly been a bore…..
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About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by A. H. Scott, go here:https://tonywarderotica.com/h-scott-whats-wrong-trumps-brain/