Gypsy Candles

The touch was firm and demanding and Melvin found himself responding faster than he ever had in his life. In an instant, he was shifting his position on the couch to provide room for his growing excitement. Nadia's hands were deft and soon he could feel the soft caress of her skin against his own as she pulled his pants down to his knees.

Nadia had her sundress pulled up to expose her taut belly. Melvin could barely keep his eyes on all of her at once. She was sliding out of her underwear with one hand as she used the other to stroke her breasts and stomach. In an instant, she was astride him. Melvin gripped her waist, gasping as her soft warmth enveloped him.

Nadia's hips slowly rose and fell against his own. She gripped him with her knees as her movements slowly increased in speed. She clutched his shirt in both fists at the shoulders. Wetness flowed from her, spreading over Melvin's hips as he began to push himself into her with increased fervor.

Melvin could barely speak, barely breathe as Nadia twisted and clenched on top of him. Each movement she made sent pleasure zigzagging through his body. Each moment, he thought it couldn't get any better or last any longer and each moment, he was wrong.

Finally a shudder coursed through Nadia's body and she became impossibly tight, gripping him to the point where a tear squeezed itself from between his tightly clenched eyelids. She began to emit a low moan that escalated into a wail while Melvin himself was caught between a whisper and a scream. Her hips surged faster against him. She lost her grip on his shoulders and leaned back, one hand sliding between the cushions on the couch while the other cupped his sweaty cheek.

Melvin could hold back no longer. He felt the explosion raging inside him, straining his body to escape. In a few moments, he would be finished. He closed his eyes just as Nadia threw both hands around his neck and ground her hips into him with hard, greedy thrusts. He could just make out the flash of metal in her hand before the power of his orgasm caused him to close his eyes.

His release was beautiful and complete. He didn't even feel his body at the end. He just felt himself emptying out. The pleasure was so fulfilling, that he just let himself keep floating until he wasn't there at all.

*** *** ***

Nadia continued to hold the man's head in her hands long after he stopped breathing. His heart struggled for a moment, defiantly gurgling out a final ragged tempo, then it too was still.

Lifting herself from him, Nadia surveyed her handiwork. The dagger was little more than a steel needle, easily concealed between the cushions of the couch and sliding just as easily into the base of his spine. There was almost no blood. Just a little inside his left eye, which swiftly went from white to crimson.

Nadia could sense that he welcomed the end when it came. He was like so many others, embracing the darkness when it came for him. There was no fight in him. Nothing in this world that loved him enough to make him want to stay.

No great loss. Looking around the apartment, she could see that his life was over long ago. When she crossed his path, he was waiting to die.

"Oh well."

Nadia stripped and went into his bathroom to wash. Once she'd finished, she refilled the bathtub with scalding hot water. While the bathtub filled, she went into the kitchen of her own apartment and came back with a huge bone-handled butcher's knife.

She had a lot of work ahead of her.

*** *** ***

"Mama, I'm back."

Mariana Tadescu opened the door for her granddaughter and directed her towards the kitchen. Nadia Tadescu set her load, a heavy black garbage bag, down by the counter.

"Ah, yes dear. You've done well," the older gypsy said as she opened one of the bags and inspected the contents. "Is that all of it?"

"Yes," Nadia said, using her sleeve to wipe sweat out of her eyes, careful not to touch her face with her hands. "I threw away what we couldn't use."

"Good girl. You're learning well," Mariana said as she went back to the stove to stir her pot before it thickened and burned.

"Mama?"

"Yes dear?"

"Can you show me how to do it?"

Mariana turned around and studied her granddaughter for a moment. The red splotches on her sleeves and pants. The sweat running down her neck. "Yes," the old woman thought. "She is ready."

"Get a pot from beneath the sink."

Nadia quickly fetched the pot.

"Now," Mariana instructed. "Fill it with a little water—just so that the bottom is covered, and then get some fat."

"How much?"

"Two handfuls should do it."

Nadia set her pot on the stove and reached into the nearest garbage bag and pulled out two dripping handfuls of Melvin's body fat. She looked expectantly at her grandmother, waiting for her next instruction.

"This," said Mariana Tadescu. "Is how you make a gypsy candle..."