Tales from THE BLUE BUTTERFLY features seductive stories that combine
sensualty and elegance in a finely crafted work of contemporary erotic
fiction.
Excerpt from THE BLUE BUTTERFLY
Lewis sprawled like a rag doll flung down by a giant. He lay naked in the
middle of the thick pile of oversized damask pillows, splayed out on his
back, spreadeagled, with arms flung out far, and legs loosely parted. His
eyes were closed; his flaccid penis resting against his right thigh,
seemingly inert. But a closer look would reveal that his limp masculinity
was not quite somnolent, for it had already begun to swell, uncoiling with
the first blush of arousal. Maybe it was the exposure to the delicious
coolness of the air conditioned room, or the scintillating awareness of
his total nudity as he lay on the slick smoothness of the satiny pillows.
Or maybe it was the simmering anticipation of things to come, the exciting
nearness of the young woman whom he could feel looking down on him, even
though he kept his eyes closed. For he knew that she was watching him,
intrigued with his responsive, thickening prick. But whatever the source
of his excitement, his manhood was clearly taking interest, expanding with
the first definite stirrings of renewed lust.
Otherwise, the naked man didn't move a muscle, but lay as he had come to
rest, with his head propped up against a supporting sofa, his features
relaxed, his expression placid, so that to the casual observer he seemed
to be dozing. But he wasn't. Under that facade Lewis was keen with
anticipation. He was waiting for Chloe. Soon she would begin.
Chloe, like she always did, began by had letting her long hair down, so
that now it fanned down in a dark cloud, enveloping her softly rounded
shoulders as she stood there, looking down on her man. Smiling to herself,
she proceeded to take her time, pausing to contemplate his handsome nude
body for a moment, before raising a foot up while she reached down to slip
off a pump. Normally, Lewis liked to watch her when she stripped for him,
but tonight he kept his eyes closed. Moving slowly, quite deliberately,
she opened the buttons down the front of her dress, shoved it down, and
stepped out of it. Then she reached up in back to remove her brassiere and
let her softly-mounded breasts tumble free. Once bare-breasted, she
dropped to her knees and came to him, squirming up under a cradling arm,
while his prick grew expectantly. The comely girl, clad in nothing but
nylon stockings and her slick, champagne-tinted half-slip, snuggled
happily against the outstretched guy.
For the longest time the two lovers lay together like that, motionless,
still but tense, both of them acutely aware of the simmering excitement
that was building. It was only when she heard him sigh that she stirred,
rising up to let a dangling breast brush softly over his arm and trail up
his lightly-furred chest as she eased herself forward onto him. She tilted
her head so that her silky hair spilled down in a fine curtain that
partially shielded her face. And then she swayed back and forth, letting
the slithering tendrils tease down his chest, and then trail across his
taut belly, watching the flat muscles firm as they passed with a maddening
tickle. This calculated teasing brought a barely suppressed moan from the
man's tightly-pressed lips.
Chloe lowered her head, and turned her cheek to lay her head on her
lover's heaving chest, listening to his pounding heart. Lewis drew in a
shivering breath, but otherwise held himself perfectly still. The woman
could sense the quickening, the tension in his rigid body, as every fiber
strained, tight with expectation as he waited for her to take the next
step in the by-now familiar ritual.
Slowly, very slowly, the long-haired girl slid lower down, inching her way
down her man's hard body till she lay with her cheek comfortably resting
on his belly, her eyes only inches from where his turgid penis nestled in
its fine tuft of springy pubic fur. She studied the blossoming manhood;
watching, fascinated by the dawning awareness of her feminine presence
that caused his eager cock to stir, swelling in anticipation when she
brought her lips closer.
The girl pursed her lips and blew a thin stream of air through the wispy
curlings, causing Lewis' cock to jump, thrilling to the touch of her warm
moist breath. She smiled to herself. Chloe knew her man, knew him so very
well; knew how highly responsive he was to her slightest touch. She need
only slip her curled fingers under his drooping soldier and give him a
gentle lift, to feel his burgeoning potency swelling up. And as she held
him between her fingers, she would watch him magically growing to renewed
prominence right before her eyes. Holding his sex loosely, she would close
her fingers and run her pointed nails down the underseam, scratching
lightly, listening with delight to the low breathy sigh that turned into a
half groan as the helpless male rolled his head from side to side. Then
she would cover his hairy scrotum, cupping him with her curved hand,
lightly cradling his balls, rolling them gently in her soft warm palm. And
as she closed her fist, giving him an affectionate squeeze, his cock would
blossom forth, unfolding, rising and thickening with all the surging power
of full raging lust.
Once she had her man completely erect, she would begin to tease him
lightly, using just the pads of her adept fingertips to trace along the
shaft, till his prick was hard and taut , straining with excitement. It
was only then, that she would begin telling him her story.
Most often the stories she invented were only half thought through when
she began, for Chloe made them up as she went along. She would lift her
head and shift back a bit, rising up on one elbow, breasts swaying,
dipping her fingers in wispy pubic hair to idly sample the tiny coils;
taking a small tuft between thumb and fingers, tugging gently. All the
while she played there, so close to his straining prick, she never took
her eyes off that quivering manhood. In a dreamy low voice she began her
latest tale of seduction.
And as the story unfolded, she would watch his reactions, acutely alert to
the signs of what turned him on. In this way she would let his mounting
desires guide the narrative, touching him hardly at all, yet giving him
more of what he longed for, till she had his erect penis throbbing in an
intolerable ache of sexual readiness.
Tonight, she began by telling him a story about a very strict training
school for girls, a sort of finishing school where grace, deportment and
good manners were instilled by proper discipline. The headmistress was a
strict, no-nonsense woman named Nadya, a retired ballerina. It was said
that she had danced with the Ballet Russe. Nadya was a striking woman with
a tight-muscled, hard figure and handsome, although stern set, features.
Her jet black hair was worn pulled back from her thin, gaunt face and tied
in a severe knot; today her panther-sleek body was sheathed in a black
leotard, for she was about to supervise a dance lesson. Tightly fitted to
her lean form, with high-cut sides, the body hugging maillot left bare her
long haunches and finely-muscled dancer's legs. In her right hand, the
headmistress carried an 18" ruler, useful for pointing out errors.
The bevy of young girls who now entered the room were all barefoot;
identically clad in Greek-style tunics. White and thin, the one-piece
garments were sleeveless, with a shallow curving neckline that dipped low
in front and rose in narrowing shoulder straps to loop thin shoulders. The
wide scoop neckline left bare the upper part of the smooth girlish chest
while the loose bodice fell in soft folds, that were gathered at the waist
to form the top of a pleated skirt, a skirt so brief that the hemline rode
not quite halfway down the lengths of firm young thighs. From behind, one
could see that the little skirts were barely adequate to layer the female
bottom, and then the covering proved adequate only if the girl wearing it
held herself erect and perfectly still, for even the slightest movement
would threaten to expose the full undercurves of a pair of saucy
rearcheeks, a hint of which constantly peeked out below the hem.
Under the filmy translucency of these loose gym slips, the girl's bodies
were quite naked, since, in their mistress' firmly-held opinion, underwear
unduly restricted the natural flow of the body's movements. The pleasing
result for the fortunate observer was that when they limbered up,
stretching and contorting their supple young bodies at the barre before
the great mirrored wall, they presented a very inspiring sight indeed!
(Lewis, his eyes closed, squirmed in happy contemplation of the mental
pictures Chloe was conjuring up for him. Meanwhile the seductive
storyteller brought a small hand into play, running a fingertip up and
down the shaft, tracing the outline of his masculine equipment with a sure
but delicate touch. Lewis couldn't suppress the tight-lipped moan of
desperation, or the shiver of pleasure that ran through him.)
To Nadya, freedom was as everything! She imbued in her pupils the same
spirit of freedom that she cherished so passionately. She constantly
exhorted them to free themselves, to allow themselves to be loose,
spontaneous and carefree. And should she be asked about the brief tunics
in which she clad her pupils, she would shrug her shoulders and
nonchalantly reply that such minimal outfits were, of course, quite
sensible under the circumstances. They allowed her charges the greatest
degree of liberated movement, thus encouraged them to express themselves
in totally uninhibited dance. Of course, Nadya well knew what exciting
effect the sight of so many scantily clad female bodies had on her eager
male clients -- the ones who paid very well indeed to be secretly allowed
the privilege of slipping unobserved into the secret chamber on the other
side of the one-way mirror that sheathed the wall of the dance studio.
She waited as the girls took their assigned places. They lined up side by
side, each separated by a few feet, forming a wide arc loosely centered on
their instructor. When they were in place, Nadya ordered the warm-up
exercises; her commands short and curt, her manner haughty, imperious. She
would demand their best performance from her "young ladies" as she always
referred to them. Now she trooped the line as the girls bent over from the
hips stretching down to touch the floor, or swayed and twisted in place
with arms held high overhead in a practiced choreographed routine.
The stern headmistress seemed unusually impatient today, snapping
commands, pacing up and down the line like a restless panther,
rhythmically slapping her palm as though testing the thin ruler. She would
pause momentarily to correct this girl or that, using the ruler to point
out some error in posture: here a leg to be straightened, there a wrist to
bend, the hand to be held just so. She was precise, her standards, strict.
It was on the third or fourth pass when she had turned her back on two of
the girls at the far end of the line, one of whom she had corrected
repeatedly, that the trouble began. An alert observer would have noticed
that the second girl from the end, a lively dark-haired girl with a slim
willowy figure was making fun of her instructor, silently grimacing to the
girl beside her who couldn't help laughing at the crude caricature.
Nadya's head snapped back at the sound of the barely suppressed giggle and
she caught the miscreant making faces at her behind her back!
At a ringing command all movement was instantly stopped and a deadly hush
stilled the room. Nadya turned on her heel and slowly closed in on the
troublemaker who stiffened and held herself rigid at the approaching
menace. The one drawback observers found with being placed behind the
one-way glass was the inability to hear what was being said in the room,
but this time the gestures were unmistakable. Nadya exchanged a few sharp
words with the troublemaker, and then beckoned her forth, ordering her to
stand before the group.
She was a thin girl with straight chestnut-brown hair pulled back from a
plain freshly-scrubbed face and tied in a youthful pony-tail. Apparently,
the girl was unrepentant, for when called to task she gave a insolent toss
of that pert pony tail, straightened up, and came forth with head held
high, chin up and defiant. The miscreant was ordered to stand at attention
facing the glass wall, a placement which, incidentally had the effect of
allowing the unseen audience to appreciate her spare clean lines, the pair
of shallow maidenly breasts showing through the diaphanous bodice, and the
dim shadow of the thin haze of wispy netherbeard barely visible through
the pleated folds of the tunic's skirt.
For a few minutes, Nadya berated her in front of the group, while the girl
stood without moving a muscle, her face set; eyes, quite expressionless.
Then, Nadya pronounced the punishment: The girl would be spanked in front
of her classmates, a not uncommon form of punishment and one much favored
by the mistress of discipline (and not coincidentally, by her male
clientele).
At Nadya's orders, two of the girls were dispatched to bring forth a
portable barre, a waist high horizontal bar, cradled between two
stanchions. This was set in front of the line of girls who waited quietly
in the center of the room. The culprit was ordered to step up between the
stanchions and stand with hips pressed up firmly against the barre. At a
word from her mistress she slowly, reluctantly lowered herself over it,
bending down till her nubile young body was folded over at the waist, her
inverted head hanging down on the far side. Nadya, pointing with the
ruler, ordered the girl to reach down and clasp her ankles to hold the
pose as she stepped behind the upended figure and delicately lifted the
flimsy little skirt, raising it up in back to lay it up over the girl's
arched back. The deliberate unveiling exposed a tight-cheeked young bottom
that was trim and smooth and nicely-rounded. Nadya was careful to step to
one side so that the pleasing sight was now presented without obstruction
to the eager male eyes on the other side of the glass wall.
The few privileged observers who were lucky enough to be there that day
were able to appreciate the clean lines of those bare limbs, straight
supple legs pressed rigidly together. The youthful thighs, tapered
slightly from the narrow hips, were squeezed tightly together so that just
a hint of the girl's sex peeped out, tucked as it was between the inner
curves of the columnar thighs: a small fig, lightly furred, the soft vulva
temptingly exposed by her upended pose. Did the little rebel feel the
first twinge of fear as she waited motionlessly, holding the demanding
pose that strained the calve muscles, stretched the taut skin at the back
of her thighs, and tightened the smoothness of those choice, upturned
domes?
(Chloe smiled at the half strangled moan that escaped Lewis' lips as he
arched back, his eyes clenched shut, as though against some sweet pain.
She resisted the temptation to touch his savagely swollen sex and instead
curled her fingers into a claw , and then used her nails to rake lightly,
teasing up and down his thigh, carefully avoiding his rampant manhood.
This brought an urgent whimper from the tantalized man and his loins rose
and twisted, instinctively seeking her touch. His cock leapt as it brushed
her hand; Chloe would force him to wait, and she quickly drew her hand
away, and in that low sexy voice, she continued her erotic story.)
Now Nadya had the girl part her legs slightly and then, not quite
satisfied with the result, leaned down to tap an ankle with the ruler,
urging her to set her heels even further apart. This widened stance put
additional strain on her stretching body, bringing the girl up on her toes
as she struggled to maintain the pose holding on to her ankles. The
widened stance also opened her willowy thighs, separating them further,
thus giving an improved view of the soft bulge of the vagina with its
light fringe of pale brown pussyfur. The silent watchers saw the girl
shift her hips, wiggling her appealing young bottom most provocatively as
she settled into place.
Now the stern mistress of the ballet took up her stance to one side and
brought the ruler up to lay it flatly across the jutting rear mounds. At
the first touch of the menacing wood, the girl became instantly alert,
holding herself rigidly still, her lithe body tensing instinctively. Nadya
tapped those tempting target lightly; two, three times, sending the small
mounds wobbling with tiny, expert flicks of the wrist. Then she hauled
back and swung: a smooth even swing with a slight upward curve that
brought the pliant lath into sharp solid contact with the vulnerable
female bottom, delivering a stinging slap squarely across the pert twin
curves.
"THWACK!" The sound rang out like a shot in the quiet room, loud enough to
be faintly heard in the darkened adjoining chamber. The girl's head and
shoulders jerked upright under the impact but she managed to keep her grip
on her ankles. She wriggled her bottom as though trying to shake off the
maddening sting.
"THWACK!" The second shot was delivered with the same smooth efficiency,
this time topped off by a snap of the wrist that sent the ruler biting
into the soft resiliency of those cringing rear mounds.
Again, the girl bounded up on her toes at the thudding impact and her head
shot up, although she did manage to maintain her grip on her ankles. Still
keeping the pose, the girl squirmed excitedly, wriggling her shoulders and
shaking her hips before she was able to settle back down. Nadya waited
patiently. Now the butt muscles contracted in fear, coiling down,
tightening to harden the rear mounds, hollowing the sides and constricting
the centerline to a narrow tightened slit.
"THWACK!" Nadya struck, smacking the hardened butt with such authority
that the girl bounded up and this time her hands immediately flew to her
stinging behind which she rubbed frantically, turning to look over her
shoulder at her mistress with a rueful expression on her flushed face.
(Lewis whimpered as Chloe's playful fingers tangled in a tuft of pubic
hair; twisted and tugged at the silky tendrils till his hips rose off the
cushions).
Nadya stood regarding her victim with hands on her hips. She spoke sternly
to the girl, no doubt chastising her for having abandoned the mandated
position. The girl lowered her head meekly, and nodded. Slowly,
submissively, she folded her lank form back over the dreaded barre once
more, up on her toes, renewing her grip on her ankles with anxious
fingers. Nadya, like all the other watchers, saw the small ass twitch; the
butt muscles contract , as once more as the girl set herself to receive
the last few strokes.
But Nadya didn't strike; not just then. Instead she brought the ruler up
to trace the curves, following the pleasing contours of that pert girlish
bottom, watching the taut skin flinch as the wooden ruler passed over the
crest of a rounded dome. The ruler paused to probe at the hidden juncture
between the legs, electrifying the girl, whose hips bounded forward in
surging reflex. Mercifully, the evil ruler was extracted from its intimate
probing of those secret places. The observers watched it being drawn
straight up the centerline causing the tantalized girl to shift from one
foot to the other in her growing agitation.
Now Nadya drew her hand back and waited, silently regarding her pretty
target. The observers saw the presented buttocks spasm reflexively. Slowly
the muscles uncoiled as the inverted victim allowed herself to relax.
Nadya saw the buttocks slacken and a little grin turned the edges of her
lips. She held her hand for a while longer, until she had judged that all
the tension had drained out of those cute cringing rear mounds and then
she struck!
"THWACK!...THWACK!...THWACK!"...three rapid fire slaps delivered with
surprising vigor had the girl bounding and hopping from one foot to the
other. With the last slap she shot straight up, arcing back as her hands
flew back to furiously rub her stinging bottom. Nadya waited till she was
through and then approached her victim and slung a loose arm around those
fragile shoulders. With their heads close together, she said something to
the girl, who only nodded at her words. Then with head hung low, the girl
backed away and made a sort of curtsey to her mistress before returning to
take her assigned place in the ranks of the waiting students.
By now Chloe had Lewis' vibrant erection between her fingers and she ran
the pad of her thumb up the underside of the stiffened shaft, pressing
firmly, making him jump in her hand and getting a long ecstatic groan from
the helpless man who could take no more of her sweet torture. He arched
up, hips straining upward, buttocks clenched, thrusting his prick towards
her.
"Do it!...DO IT!" he pleaded through clenched teeth, his voice husky and
strained with emotion.
Chloe's lips widened in a knowing smile, and quite deliberately she
wrapped her fingers around the throbbing penis, her claws digging into the
spongy shaft and making him suck in a shiver of breath at the delectable
pain. As he whimpered, her nimble fingers relaxed. Then, immediately, she
squeezed him again, hard but not extending her claws this time. She held
him tightly and pumped her fist, once, twice, and again, sending her man
into paroxysms of pleasure till he bounded and twisted helplessly in her
iron grip. His raging prick shot off immediately in a tremendous climax,
sending pulsating gobs of thick white cream erupting to splatter her
pistoning fist and fall in a wide arc raining down on his heaving chest.
Chloe's stories always came to the same shuddering climax.
Copyright 2000, Don Winslow