The Altar of Me - Part 5

There's a few references to religious items in this one folks.  If you're unfamiliar with the terminology I suggest you look it up ... it can't hurt ... Merriam-Webster Online.  I am having so much fun with this one ... I almost don't want it to end, I think I can drag this one out to probably 5 more parts (I'm partial to even numbers for some reason ... hate leaving things odd numbered) ... well without further ado ... here's Part 5.
 
I hear you rustling through the dresser next to the bed, and a moment later I hear the click of your pocket lighter ... I know what is in store for me now.  I can smell the burning of the candle wick as it is engulfed by the flame.  Moments pass and the warm smell of wax fills my senses with ritualistic fervor to please you.  I writhe and fight against my restraints, no longer able to hold back my desire ... my lust ... my want ... to praise you ... to sacrifice myself to your sexual appetency.  Your iniquities taken into my body.  But I am forbidden to display such wild abandon towards you ... and punishment ensues.
 
This time with a swift open hand you strike my legs.  The coolness that was overtaking my body is slowed ... and the wanton heat that had started to peter out is now raging again ... ignited anew by the warmth of your forceful touch.  At once your hands strongly grip my thighs, forcibly digging your fingernails into them.  A slight, lax exhale escapes my lips as your grip tightens.  You bow and proceed to trail your tongue from my thighs towards my shoulder - your hands follow your tongue ... erasing your prescence ...  your mouth finally reaches my shoulder.  Your hands stop and knead my breasts ... progressively faster and harder ... like a machine gaining momentum for that one instance of force.  Voraciously you sink your teeth in my shoulder and bite down hard.  Your assault sending slight quakes throughout my body ... yearning to be set free to hold your head there for as long as I can take.  Feeling your hunger for me made real by your ravaging mouth.  Your passion displayed in this one instance like a Monstrance holding a precious item ... present ... but yet it is kept from me ... unable to touch it ... only admire it.  Once you are satisfied with the mark you've ordained on my shoulder you lean towards my ear and whisper your soft words ... that cut through me like a knife ...
 
"My Beth ... I will be tortourous in your denial ...", and you gently kiss and lick my ear.
 
"... sadistic in your wanting pleasure ...", slowly licking again ... cracking the facade of my hard won composure.
 
"... and ... cold to your begging for my touch ...", a third and final lick ... I break ... I cry ... I weep to release the yearning in me.  Yearning for your esscence ... for you to take my body and make it your own ...
 
With each of those words that so delicately floated out of your mouth the dagger of my want is pushed further within me.  Past, Present and Future.  Father, Son and Holy Ghost.  Three in one ... you are to me three ... my need ... my desire ... my lust - embodied in your being. 

Pulling away again.  My short-lived sexual utopia taken away by your hand ... here I lay ... your creation ready to be released.  You have formed me ... molded me ... I am your passion embodied ... the physical form of the intangible.  I am here ... forged by your need ... desire ... and lust.  I can sense your admiring gaze piercing through me ... witnessing the inner turmoil that is undoing me inside.  You see it ... you know the end is imminent ... the point where you will break me ... and have me ... take me as you wish.  Your Alpha and Omega, destroyed by your immolating rapacity to consume your creation. 
 
The bed shifted by your weight signals your return to me.  Kneeling before my bare vestibule ... a low, pleasantly wicked laugh escapes your lips.  Your hand caressing my altar, vying for control ... but your patience is overpowering.  Then the heated wax is poured upon the narthex of my form, I strain to not move as the first of the hot wax touches my cool body - in my mind's eye I see red ... heat ... intensity ... passion.  Sealing the altar ... authenticating it ... purifying it ... for the intended receiver.  And it is done ... sealed and displayed for you ... waiting for your touch to break me open and consume what is inside.  You lightly stroke the cooled wax ... the textures playing with your fingertips ... the wax like a cool baldachin on the altarpiece of my form ... careful not to break it ... waiting for the moment ... the instance ... of collapse.  It is near ... the rise and fall of my sternum gives me away.  It is close ... it is near ... I am yours.
 
With a steady, slow hand you begin to peel away the wax ... exposing my vestibule.  Careful not to send me over the edge and lose me to self-immolation.  Your hands expertly working ... unhastened and deft.  My exposure revealing the want you have created ... the deluge within me ... lust realized.  Leaning over you press your face inside me, rubbing ... annointing yourself with me esscence ... your tongue plying away at my core.  Pushing ... pushing ... pushing me towards the edge where I'm hanging by a thread of self-possesed equanimity.  Deeper and deeper your tongue invades me, taking me in ... and all that is open to it is not enough.  More is needed ... more is wanted ... more is desired.