1 comments/ 50216 views/ 6 favorites Butterfly Ch. 01 By: Sweet Sherry AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the first chapter of a long semi-autobiographical tale about my search for sexual identity. Since some of the characters are real people, I've changed all the names to protect the innocent. And while you might be tempted to look for vacation rentals on Vecino Beach (see chapters 3 and 6), don't bother. I made it up as a convenient stand-in for several different places around Florida. You may notice that the chapters are written from different points of view and/or in different tones. The chapters developed their own moods, so I let the story tell me how to write each one. I hope that you find this more helpful than distracting, and that you enjoy reading my story as much as I enjoyed writing it. ------------------------------------------------- Chapter I: The Dream They had just made love, him laying on top still inside her, their bodies damp and warm, their bare skin flush together. It was the time when they felt closest; when all walls were breached, all windows opened, all lines between self and other blurred; two clouds nudged together by a summer breeze. This was the moment in which their deepest feelings and longings felt safe to come out in the shelter of their joined bodies. She cherished this feeling almost as much as the act of love itself. Today was not unusual. She had arrived at her apartment from work to find him waiting right inside her front door. A trail of discarded clothing marked their path down the hallway to her bedroom where they fell together, a wild, desperate tangle of young, lusty flesh. They had made love like lovers separated for months instead of hours and now floated in the magical afterglow. Sherry enjoyed Kyle's weight on her body, his smooth chest on her breasts, his slim, muscular stomach resting on her pelvic bone, his hips pushing her thighs apart, his once-hard shaft slowly shrinking inside her. They kissed slowly, and as they cooled together, he laid his head beside hers, his chin on her shoulder. Without even thinking, she started to whisper in his ear. "Babe, I had the most interesting dream last night." "What was it about?" he answered absently. "You remember Trish, the new receptionist at work I mentioned?" "The hot young thing who was hired because your boss is a 'horny old man'?" he asked, repeating her words from the previous week. "That's the one. I dreamed that I was at work and looked down and she had crawled under my desk." "Oh, yeah?" "Yeah. I just saw her face with a big grin looking up at me from the dark down there. She put her hands over her lips so I would 'shhh' then started rubbing my calves. Pretty soon, her hands had worked their way up to the hem of my skirt." "Yeah?" replied Kyle. She knew she had piqued his interest because she could feel his heart begin to pitter-patter again, his chest pressed against her. "Yeah," she whispered. "She slowly lifted my skirt up to my knees, all the time smiling at me. I didn't react at all, just kept typing at the computer like nothing was happening." Sherry felt Kyle's cock twitch inside her and the embers of her desire began to glow again as well. She had just wanted to share her dream but was obviously arousing them both. She went on, speaking a little louder now. "She kissed my left knee, then my right knee, then pulled my skirt up farther up my thighs. And the weird thing is, I didn't try to stop her. I even lifted my butt off the chair so she could free my skirt from beneath me. I still kept quiet when she had it up to my waist. But I kept my knees together because I was a little embarrassed." "Why?" "Well, I must have dressed in a hurry that dream morning because I wasn't wearing anything underneath." "Nothing?" "Not a thing." "You bad girl," said Kyle, his cock now stiffening noticeably inside of Sherry. He raised his head and kissed her nose. "Tell me more." Sherry was excited but a bit shy and blushed as she went on. "But Trish didn't quit there. She wedged her hand between my knees, but I pushed back and kept my thighs tight together. Trish looked up and mimed licking the air, then pointed between my thighs with a pleading look on her face." "That did it for me. I casually relaxed my legs to give her what she wanted while pretending to ignore her. I did it real slowly to tease her, but eventually I knew she could see everything. I even scooted forward in my chair so her face was right there." Sherry now felt Kyle hot inside her. Her moistness returned and he began to slide smoothly in and out as she continued her story. "Then she leered at me like an absolute slut, stuck out her tongue, and licked me down there. The touch shocked me and felt unbelievable but I still kept typing like nothing was going on." "Right there in your office?" "Uh-huh." "Did you like it?" asked Kyle, his movements quickening. He pushed himself up, his hands by her sides on the mattress, his arms extended, his tone, hairless chest lifting away from her. The cool air washed suddenly over her sweat-dampened breasts and she felt them jiggle as he began to thrust harder into her. Her flowing juices washed the rest of her inhibitions away. "Yeah, honestly, I loved it. But all of a sudden, Amy from down the hall walked in and asked me about some stupid project. I sat up straight and acted nonchalant while Trish kept eating me out. Amy came over to put a file on my desk and stood right there, turning me on even more. I must have been getting very wet because Trish started making squishy noises with her tongue and saying something like "hmmm". I tried to hurry Amy and get her to leave so she wouldn't notice but she just kept talking and talking. Amy didn't even seem to hear when Trish roughly pushed my thighs farther apart and banged my knees against the insides of the desk. I glanced down and saw Trish's face right in my crotch and felt her tongue dancing all inside me but I had to pretend like nothing was happening even though it felt sooo good." Kyle was pumping into Sherry hard now and she curled her legs behind him, letting him plunge deeper. "As soon as Amy left, Trish grabbed the end of my skirt with both hands and ripped it clean apart from top to bottom. It just fluttered down in tatters on both sides of my chair. It was one of my nice ones, too, but I didn't care. Then she reached up and tore open my blouse and my buttons just flew everywhere as I heard the silk ripping in a couple places. And by this time I was wasn't surprised when I noticed that I had forgotten to put on something else that morning." "No bra!" cried Kyle. "Yeah, babe, nothing underneath. I let what was left of my blouse slip off my arms and fall to the floor behind me while Trish dove her face back between my legs. I was just sitting there naked in my office with the door wide open letting the new office babe eat me out. My coworkers kept walking by - Kristin and Barb and Keith and the rest of them -- but in this dream world, nobody looked in. By then, I actually wanted them to. I even pushed my chair back a little and propped my feet up on the desk. I really wanted Amy or somebody else to walk in and see what we were doing." Sherry was approaching orgasm and continued her story between gasps. "Trish reached up . . . and squeezed my breasts ... and I grabbed the back of that slut's head . . . mmm . . . with both hands and ... mmm ... pushed her face hard into my pussy . . . oooo . . . I don't know how she could breath ... mmm ... I felt her nose on my clit . . . mmm . . . and her mouth . . . yeah . . . and tongue deep inside me . . . oooo . . . I came so hard . . . " Sherry heard Kyle moan, then felt him thrust forward as he filled her womb for the second time that afternoon. The sensation made her come as well. She dug her nails into his back and lost all sense of being for that brief, glorious moment. He collapsed back onto her body and they kissed passionately, their tongues dancing a slow dance, their bodies and souls reunited again. After the world started spinning again, he lifted his head and smiled. "Did you really dream that?" "Yeah, pretty much. I even dreamt about trying to get home without any clothes, but that's another story for another time." He grinned, then put his head on her shoulder and held on to another moment of oneness. And before it passed, Sherry had something to say, something that even in this most precious of moments she had been unable to share. Until now. "Kyle?" she whispered. "What, babe?" "I really want to make love to another woman." ...to be continued... Butterfly Ch. 01 Sometimes people just connect, and that connection can be so powerful that it crosses generations and it transcends normal boundaries, such as marriage. My story is set in a quaint English back yard on a gorgeous summer's day, my cousins 21st Birthday was the occasion and I had only been in the country for a day. I had flown in for a formal occasion the following weekend. The party began with the usual procession of Aunts, Uncles, random relatives and various family friends. There was Pimms and polite conversations and plenty of "Oh how you've grown" (even though I am nearing 40). "How's the wife and family?" the usual light banter. Then it happened. The last time I had seen her she was a shy awkward teenager, this was no longer the case. Immediately we connected. We spend some time making general conversation, talking about family and work, those sorts of things, she turns out to be married; she introduced me to her husband. It turns out she now worked as a stewardess for a major airline, so the conversation turned to world travel and somehow the talk turned to tales of miss behaving whilst away from home, all innocent flirting, or so I thought. I noticed that her loose dress was held closed with a belt sporting a butterfly motif, the neckline offering brief glimpses of her young pert breasts, they are totally inappropriate thoughts on my behalf, but I can't stop my eyes from wandering. She takes notice of the attention and plays up to it, bending low to offer me drinks, her trim butt begging for a sharp slap, if only, I grin to myself, feeling like a sleazy old man. Things settle down to a good garden party, sun shining, beer flowing, good food to be had. My delightful friend decides that we should go look through the photo albums and see evidence of the last time we saw each other, someone or others wedding. We ascend several flights of stairs to the top floor study where the photo albums are kept, which offered me spectacular views of her sensual very tight arse. I am really struggling to focus by the third floor. Then, the joy of her reaching up to collect yet another photo album down from the shelf, her dress rides up and flops around as we get closer flicking through pages. She comments on my teenage physique in one of the photos, a boating trip, me with my top off, muscles bulging. Then she decides to check if they are the same now I am much older. I reluctantly remove my top so she can inspect me, feeling me flex my muscles. It's nice to be complimented by such a charming young woman. The innuendo's are now getting really obvious now. Remember we are at a family gathering in broad daylight... Next thing you know our lips meet, Oh my God, this really shouldn't be happening, she snuggles into me, soft waist held close, I can feel myself get hard. I can't stop as our lips refuse to disengage. Our tongues chasing each other, breathing in our closeness, relishing the danger of being caught. Her hands are just as wild, groping, feeling, holding close. She is panting, matching my heavy breathing. She suddenly pulls away from my lips. "Fuck me" she says "Now?" I reply looking like a school boy with my hand caught in the cookie jar! She untangles herself from my arms and leans against the window sill. "Yes now" I wish we'd had more time, wish it could have been sensual and loving. Wish our bodies could have explored each other. My tongue ached to taste her soaking pussy. We fucked! Her dress up around her waist, my hard cock slamming into her, raw and uninhibited. I came inside her as her mother looked up from the garden and waved, she managed a weak reply, and luckily I was hidden in the shadows of the curtains, so only her top half visible above the window sill to the party still going on below. She quickly put her underwear back on, and pulled me on for one last brief kiss, thanked me and rushed down stairs. What just happened? My mind was in a whirl as I carefully put the albums back on the now empty shelf and I tried to collect my thoughts. My cell phone beeped, her message read "I can feel you're cum leaking from me! I'll see you at the wedding..." Was I dreaming? Butterfly Ch. 02 Chapter II: Sherry's Diary: In the Beginning... Yes, my dear diary, I'm pretending to write to Jen again... Dear Jen, Well, yesterday I finally admitted it. And, what's more, I told Kyle at the same time. He took it pretty well. He seemed more excited than surprised. I think he's suspected my desires for a while even though I've never verbalized them. I know he's noticed that when we see some hot chick somewhere, my head turns faster than his to take a look. And he must know that when it's my turn to flip through 102 cable channels, I pause a little longer than I should when some babe in a bikini goes by. I just can't help it; for as long as I can remember, I've always enjoyed looking at beautiful women. My mother made me repress that line of thought for a long time. You've met her a few times, Jen; you know how she is. Sex was a taboo subject in my house growing up, something that was never discussed in any way. Even harmless fluff like "3's Company" was banned from our TV because of the silly innuendo. And since I'm an only child, it was easier for my mom to keep her eagle eye on me. My mother tried her best to transmit her sexual hang-ups and guilt tome, especially when I began to hit puberty. I felt so ashamed about my body that instead of talking to her when I had my first period, I had to sneak into the biology section of the neighborhood library and read a hokey kid's book ("Your Body and You") to understand what was going on. I couldn't even bring myself to check it out because I didn't want the old lady at the front counter to know I was reading it, so I hid in the back of the reference section, blushing every time someone came near. Throughout middle school, I never talked about sex with the other girls and was much too repressed to even flirt with a boy. But there was no way to stop my heart from going pitter-patter when I saw a hot guy or girl. In high school, it was my mother who made me join the band. I've always suspected it was because she didn't want me in PE so I didn't shower in school. That pissed me off, because I always wondered what my friends looked like naked. You never knew my friend Dee because she moved away right before I met you. She was Puerto Rican and dark and gorgeous. Once at a band car wash, she wore short jean shorts that showed off so much of her olive-skinned thighs that I'm amazed the band director didn't send her home. The boys enjoyed it, and I kept crouching down to wash tires beside her to be close to her gorgeous legs. That was fun, but I still wanted to see her naked. I had never even seen a good picture of another girl's body until one day after school during my senior year. I've never told anyone this so please keep your mouth shut!! I was looking for a hat in my Dad's closet for nerd day when I found a Playboy magazine buried deep in the corner. I picked it up with trembling hands, then began leafing through the glossy pages. The first thing I found was a spread on California girls. There was only one picture per model but the variety was incredible - tan, creamy pale, black, busty, flat-chested, redheads, brunettes, blondes, orientals; you name it, they were in there. I pored over those photos like a jeweler admiring precious diamonds, slowly examining the women's gorgeous bodies and noticing the little things; the curves of their lower backs, the muscles of their calves and thighs, the upturn of their breasts, the shapes of their nipples. I was entranced. The most amazing thing to me was that some of the women trimmed their pubic hair or even shaved it off completely. I had never thought of that but it made me consider trying it myself. (I didn't actually do it; for a while...) One picture really got my attention: a very athletic-looking, tan Latina with jet-black hair lounging in a shallow bubble bath. The bubbles in the tub were low enough to expose her torso from large breasts down to her washboard abs. Her legs were bent with her knees above the suds, her trimmed pussy barely peeking out above the water line. Although I've never been particularly attracted to muscular women, her sizeable (but not huge and gross) wet biceps intrigued me. But it was the simmering expression on her face which really got me, and my tongue copied hers, lazily moistening my upper lip. I couldn't hold back. I sat right there on the floor of my parent's bedroom, pulled down my jeans, and played with myself while staring at that amazing body. Right before I came, lust overcame good sense and I kneeled right over the face of the woman in the picture, pretending she could see my pussy up close. I came harder than I ever had but cooled quickly when I opened my eyes and saw that the magazine was drenched. I obviously couldn't put it back in its hiding place so I mashed it down to the bottom of the kitchen garbage bin and took out the trash. My father never said anything about it. I suppose he thought my mother found his secret smut and threw it away. But the truth is that it's because of you that I began to think about making my fantasies about other women become reality. Yes, Jen; it's all you. Let me explain. It seems like only yesterday that we met on the first day of school our senior year. You smiled your wicked smile at some sarcastic comment I mumbled in Mrs. Thom's math class, and the rest is history. There were many changes in my life at that time. I met Jeff that Christmas break. You remember the night I called at 2am to tell you we had gone all the way for the first time. I know you never liked him but he really helped me overcome a lot of my mother's sexual hang-ups. And he was also great in the sack (though he was no Kyle, of course :). My happiness temporarily pushed my thoughts of other women to the back burner. Though I still found other girls attractive, my fantasy lovers went from about 20% males to 50%, mostly just Jeff (you remember how hot he was - mrrreor!). But you know how that ended - his fantasy lovers were 100% female and, unfortunately, some of them weren't just fantasies. But I hung on with that jerk for almost a year before I had enough. I'll always be grateful to you for becoming my roommate so I could afford to stay at UCF after Jeff moved out. It was then, when we were living together and I was still moping over Jeff, that you did something that turned me back on to women. You probably have no idea what I'm talking about so I'll explain. One rainy Sunday afternoon, we were just hanging out in the apartment lazing around watching TV and trying to study. You were wearing that extra-long UCF Knights sweatshirt of yours with not much else. As always, I enjoyed looking at your legs, but I wasn't paying too much attention. You went to get some munchies from the kitchen and when you came back, you couldn't find your pen. That's when it happened. You were facing directly away from me and, as I watched, you bent over to look for the pen between the sofa cushions. I can picture the sight now in my mind's eye and it still sends shivers down my spine. As you dug around amongst your books and the cushions, your sweatshirt rose like a curtain up to your waist, revealing your lovely ass covered only by a pair of white thong panties. My eager eyes traveled up your bare legs until they were drawn to the area beneath your cheeks and between your tone thighs. To my infinite delight, your panties were slightly out of place and one pouty hairless lip of your beautiful cunny was exposed to my lecherous gaze. I thought my eyes would pop out of my head. Don't be embarrassed; I know you didn't do it on purpose! (Or did you???) My hand flew to my crotch and squeezed as if it had a mind of its own, immediately making a dark damp spot appear on the front of my sweatpants. Before you even got up, I ran to my room to change, quickly fingering myself to orgasm while I was there. Ever since then, Jen, I've secretly lusted after you, longing to see your beautiful pussy again. More than once when we were roomies, I peeked into the bathroom while you were showering to get a glimpse of your naked bod, but I never saw much behind damn over-cluttered shower curtains. Remember the time we were a little drunk at a club and I reached up your dress, squeezed your ass, and pretended I was some jackass frat guy asking you to come back to my place for a good time? I was only half joking. And I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I once did something else very naughty you don't know about. You were on the phone in the living room one night while I was in the kitchen making a big dinner salad. I was about to slice a cucumber when I got a wicked idea. I pulled down my shorts and panties, ran the end of the cucumber up and down my slit until I was wet, then pushed it in. Holding it in place, I peeked around the corner at you, then wiggled it inside my pussy for a minute or two until I silently came, holding my breath as I watched you chat unaware. Then I pulled up my shorts, sliced up the cucumber without rinsing it, and was done with the salad before you got off the phone. As we ate, I bit my lip every time you lifted your fork to your mouth and died a little death when you praised my homemade vinaigrette. I'd love to make that recipe for you again... Even though we've graduated and I've gotten serious with Kyle, I haven't gotten over you. More than once, I've woken up in a sweat after dreaming about kissing you and more. I wonder what you would have done if I had run up behind you when you were bent over, yank your panties out of the way, and slide my finger in and out of your slit until your wetness flowed down my hand. I wish I had tried. I only wish I could really tell you how I feel. I wish I could be sure you wouldn't be disgusted with me, that my mother's sexual shame wasn't lurking somewhere inside my head holding me back. Someday, I will get up the nerve. But until then, I'll just keep pretending I'm writing to you whenever I write in my diary. Maybe one day I'll leave it out for you to read... _sigh_ Sherry Butterfly Ch. 02 A week passed reasonably uneventfully, catching up with family and the usual things that happen when on overseas holidays. My mind never strayed far from the previous weekend, when the amazing young woman with her butterfly belt did incredible things to my mind. The day of the wedding arrives and I am tingling as I get myself ready. I take extra care getting myself sorted, pulling up my long white socks, ensuring my red flashes are just right, fixing my cuff links, just so, my large belt clasped correctly over my quite dashing kilt. I hesitate, do I do this properly, underwear or not? I decide, it's quite a nice day, no need to spoil tradition, I grin to myself. I know this delightful young girl will be attending, but I wonder to myself, was it just a one off, a flight of fancy perhaps, something risqué‚ as a result of a few extra glasses of champagne? Time will tell I guess, never the less I feel rather good about myself hanging free in the wind as I walk to the wedding. The wedding turned out to be a very nice affair, the bride and groom very happy, tea and cakes in the garden afterwards, sun shining, and beautiful green lawns. I pass the time after the ceremony making small talk with various guests and relatives, my delightful butterfly floats past, gracing me with a soft kiss on the cheek, but giving me no indication as to whether last week was a one off. Some time passes, champagne comes out and people mingle happily together. I end up playing with some kids, racing across the grass, through various mazes in the garden. I notice my butterfly girl is also quite happily playing with some children, I wonder if a discrete meeting may occur. She continues to be aloof though, happy to raise a cheeky eye brow but not giving me much indication. I round the corner of the maze in hot pursuit of a young boy who has taken a liking to me and enjoys being thrown in the air. There standing illuminated in a ray of sunshine is my butterfly. She is standing hand on hip, her eye brow cocked! My thoughts of tickling my young prize now thoroughly distracted. Her brown eyes sparkle as she grins at me. I am stunned like a deer in the headlights. "Well, are you going to kiss me then?" she says My face lights up as I gather her in my arms, our lips come together. Soft, sensual, our lust unabated, our tongues meet. My hands reach around to feel her delightfully pert bottom. "Are you going to catch me?" a little voice says as the little boy pulls at my kilt. We disengage in a fluster; I disguise my embarrassment by swiftly chasing off after the little boy. The feel of the wind under my kilt sending tingles through my body. This little nymph has truly captured my interest. Luckily there are a number of exits from the maze, we manage to leave discretely enough, and unfortunately I am unable to catch her for a few hours. We make our way to the dining hall, via the various mandatory wedding photo opportunities along the way. Somewhere along the way, my wonderful butterfly discretely delivers, via an emissary a flight size bottle of nice Scotch whisky, fitting to her profession and my attire I think. "Apparently Dutch courage works with Scottish liquor too!" I think as I find myself standing behind her during the group photo, my hands gently playing with her body through the soft material of her dress. I can feel her smooth skin, the curve of her glorious buttocks; I trace the line of her G string as it delves between her butt cheeks. I bless the luck of my sporran, suppressing the tell tail signs of my growing erection. Photos finish way too soon. As luck has it we are seated quite close during the dinner so we are able to make idle chit chat. I am engrossed in a discussion about photography with her husband when I feel my kilt moving under its own volition. I realize my temptress is nowhere to be seen. Petite hands brush against the exposed skin under my kilt. I try and suppress my surprise and glimpse under the table, she grins at me. Thankfully the long table cloths prevent anyone else seeing under the table as she is reaching up under my kilt along my inner thigh. This is killing me. I'm trying to talk to her husband about matters photographic whilst her delicate hands find my already hard member. Thankfully he is engrossed in discussing a recent trip, as I stifle a gasp, her lips now tracing kisses along my leg, whilst one hand is stroking me. I have lost focus on the current topic. All resources are focused upon my groin. "I said, have you seen my wife?" he asks me, apparently for the second time. Clearly I am not focused on anything other than what is happening to me discretely under the table. "Ummm, bathroom I think..." I respond. "I'll go find her then, speeches soon." he says I murmur something in response as I lose control and try ever so discretely to cover the fact that I am having a noiseless orgasm, my seed being pumped into his wife's willing mouth. Luckily he has already turned away. No one else seems to notice, or pay attention to her as she sits up having recovered her napkin that she had dropped on the floor. She discretely wipes the corner of her mouth with it, a glint in her eye. We still have the dancing during the evening to cover; I'll make that the next chapter To be continued... Butterfly Ch. 03 Chapter III: Wild Night Out It was a quiet Friday afternoon and Sherry was at work updating yet another client database. Data entry was not in her job description, but as she often said, “If I don’t do it, it won’t get done.” The letters and numbers began to blur together as she plowed her way through the endless list of contact information. When her phone rang, she jumped as if startled from sleep. “LifeWorks, Sherry speaking.” “Hey sexy, whatcha wearing? Is the receptionist busy under your desk again?” Sherry was suddenly wide awake. She covered the mouthpiece like she was hiding a secret. “Shh, Kyle, you pervert! Anybody could pick up this line!” “Would you really mind if Trish heard that?” Kyle replied. Sherry blushed. “Maybe. What’s up?” “Why don’t you skip out early so we can run away?” “What are we running from and where are we running to?” “We’re running from the conventional humdrum of everyday life and we’re running to something exotically different.” “Hmm, sounds mysteriously intriguing, kinda like a bad commercial. But do we have to leave early?” “Where we’re going, we need to beat traffic. Is that practical enough for you?” “Sure is.” Sherry glanced at the clock – 3:45. “But first I’ve got to finish one more thing. Meet you at my place around… oh, 5?” “That’s not very early.” Kyle complained. “I know, but these people pay me money, and they’d kinda like it if I did some work.” “The fiends. Ok, five o’clock it is, my sweet, but not one minute later.” “Alright, Romeo; I’ve gotta go. Love ya, babe. See you soon.” “Love you too, snookums. Oh, and Sherry?” “Yeah?” “Don’t forget to find some clothes before you go outside. And say hi to Trish for me!” _click_ “Dork,” said Sherry with a smirk as she hung up the phone. Kyle hadn’t mentioned that dream since Monday when she had first told him about it. Over dinner that evening, he had asked her if she had meant what she said about other women. She was a little embarrassed talking about it once the moment had passed, but she admitted that it had “crossed her mind”. For the last few days, they had both been too busy with their respective jobs to even get in a quickie, much less delve into fantasies. She wondered about his mysterious phone call. The raunchy jokes were unusual for Kyle. If his intent was to get her thinking about that very erotic dream, he succeeded. She remembered how real the dream was, how she could almost feel the plush upholstery on her bare skin as she sat in her office naked, doing something very naughty and not caring who saw. A slight flush came to her cheeks when she realized she was in the same chair, typing on the same computer, her legs under the same desk as in the dream. She suddenly found it hard to keep running down those long rows of names. When Trish herself walked by Sherry’s open office door in her tight Friday jeans, Sherry lost her concentration entirely. “Aw, screw it,” she sighed. She shut down her computer, made a lame excuse to her boss (“He owes me plenty anyway”), then smiled and wished Trish a nice weekend on the way out. “If she only knew,” Sherry mused. Sherry figured that Kyle would be waiting for her, eager to make up for their lack of love making the past few days. She was looking forward to it, and her pulse quickened with anticipation as she waited for the turning light at the entrance of the apartment complex. However, she didn’t see Kyle’s car in front of the building and found a note on the inside welcome mat: You’re early! Ran to the ATM – be right back. I picked out some clothes for you. XOXO Kyle Sherry headed for the bedroom and found her suggested wardrobe. On the bed, Kyle had laid out a slinky black club dress with thin spaghetti straps and a zipper down the front to the waist. It had almost been too short when she bought it and then shrank in the wash. She hadn’t worn it in months and intended to get rid of it. Kyle knew all of this – he was the one who had missed the ‘dry clean only’ label – but there it was waiting for her on the bed. “Curioser and curioser…” she mumbled. Beside the dress was another note: C’mon, it’ll be fun. :) XXX Kyle “I wouldn’t wanna spoil the fun.” Sherry quickly slipped out of her conservative business attire (customer reps don’t get casual Fridays) and into the skimpy outfit, then had a look in the bathroom’s full-length mirror. “Oh, my…” Sherry mumbled when she saw much more of her skin than she usually showed in public. She had bought the dress because she knew she had shapely shoulders and the thin straps accented them nicely. The built-in bustier also showed off her cleavage to great effect. However, it was shorter than it used to be and her legs seemed awfully bare. Sherry turned around and then noticed with alarm that the bottom of the tight dress barely covered the rise of her ass. Fun or no fun, she had second thoughts about leaving the apartment with her butt almost hanging out. Besides, the first cold front of the fall had blown into Florida and it would be a bit cool tonight. She was about to look through the closet for something else when she heard a key turn in the front lock. “Honey, I’m home!” called Kyle down the hall. His smiling face soon appeared in the bedroom door, and his eyes widened when he saw Sherry in the little black dress. “Yazza!” he said, “I’ve gotta sit down!” He plopped on the nearby comfy chair and admired her some more. Sherry noticed that he was wearing his tight black jeans and a tropical camp shirt over a white tank-type undershirt. He was underdressed compared to her, but she found him almost irresistible in each of those 3 pieces of clothing, more so all at once. She suspected he knew this. She playfully strutted over and sat on his lap. “So where’s my sexy hunk of a man going to whisk away little ol’ me, sugar?” she cooed coyly, kissing his forehead and running her finger around the smooth tan skin showing above his undershirt. Ever since they had seen _Gone with the Wind_ at a film festival a few weeks before, they often slipped into caricatures of Scarlett and Rhett when playing mischievously naughty. “Well, Scarlett, I wanted to take you down to the barn and see what’s under your petticoat, but since we don’t have a barn, I decided to take you down to the shore and try it there.” “Fiddle-ee-dee, Rhett Butler, I’ll have you know I don’t even own a petticoat. But if you help me get my things together, I’ll show you what I do have.” Sherry got up and began throwing stuff in an overnight bag. Kyle grinned and watched until Sherry hit him squarely on the nose with pair of socks, after which he got up and helped out. Sherry remembered that she was wearing an almost indecent outfit just as locked her front door. She paused, looked over at Kyle sitting in his sporty little car, and finished turning the key. “Aw, it’ll be fun,” she told herself, and hopped in. A little later, Kyle was driving through traffic on the coastal highway while Sherry listened to the radio and watched the sun set over the water. They wore their matching black leather bomber jackets everyone thought were so cute. Sherry still didn’t know where they were going exactly. “Can I inquire which beach we’re headed for?” she asked. “Nope. We’re going to have a nice dinner, then getting us a room,” he smirked. “And I thought we’d stop somewhere along the way.” “Where?” She was a little hungry and was looking forward to a good meal. He responded with a secretive smile and raised eyebrows. As she considered all the clues from the phone call to the clothes to the out of the way route, she was glad she trusted Kyle so completely. With someone else, she may have felt anxiety or even fear. Here with Kyle, she felt only growing excitement and anticipation. She didn’t have to wait long. Kyle soon slowed down as they neared what looked like a big tiki bar on a small strip of sand between the road and the bay. Goosebumps rose on Sherry’s skin when she saw the sign out front: “Beach Bunnies: Florida’s Finest Exotic Dancers”. Kyle pulled into the mostly empty parking lot and stopped. “Do you want to go in?” he asked seriously. “The crowd won’t get here for a couple hours and I thought it’d be fun…” His expression grew concerned as if he thought he might have made a big mistake. “It’s not some trashy dump, is it?” she asked nervously. “No, no; it’s nothing like that. My friends dragged me out here when I turned 18. It’s pretty clean and respectable. Plus, women get in free before seven. But if you don’t want to go in, we could just keep driving; I won’t mind. I just thought…” “No, it’s alright,” Sherry said, putting her hand on his and seeing his troubled face relax. “There’s hardly anybody here, and if it’s free, it’s for me, right? Let’s go; just don’t tell my mommy, ok?” Kyle smiled. “Ok, but you can’t tell mine, either. Deal?” “Deal.” Kyle parked near the entrance and they walked toward the heavily tinted glass door. A gust of wind came off the water and chilled Sherry’s bare legs, making her remember how little she was wearing. “I’m probably overdressed for _thi_s place,” she thought hopefully. Kyle held the door open and Sherry braced herself before going in. Instead of the expected female flesh, she saw a balding fat guy reading a book on a stool behind a cash register. A floor-length dark blue curtain blocked the way to the left. Muffled dance music came from that direction, making the air throb. “8 bucks,” said the man nonchalantly, and Kyle gave him the money “Enjoy yourself,” he said as he handed back the change and picked up his paperback. Kyle took Sherry’s hand and led the way through the curtain. Sherry was aware of a stage and people moving about, but she kept her eyes on Kyle’s back as they headed for a booth against the back wall. They sat and Sherry looked around, her eyes wide open and darting nervously. On a narrow, brightly-lit stage, she saw her first live nude girl: a blond with smallish breasts and a tuft of dark pubic hair swaying lazily to the music wearing only a garter belt and high heels. A few men sat along the edge of the stage gawking and waving bills. In the darker recesses of the room, other women in various stages of undress milled about a handful of shadowy figures sitting at other tables and booths. Kyle seemed just as nervous as Sherry, and they both sat in silence until being approached by a petite Asian girl wearing a long white kimono that seemed relatively modest for this environment. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked. “Um, I’ll have a beer,” said Kyle. “Brandy, please,” said Sherry. When the waitress turned to leave, they saw that her kimono had no back at all. The dress ended just below her neck, and nothing blocked their view of her brown skin from her shoulder blades to her feet. Her bare ass swayed seductively as she walked away. “They must not pay too well,” said Kyle. “What?” asked Sherry, realizing she had been straining her eyes to follow the waitress in the dimness. “I said they must not pay well, her not being able to afford complete pieces of clothing.” “Ha, ha,” said Sherry with a smirk. She knew Kyle was trying to relax her (and himself) with his typically dry humor, and it did make her more at ease. The waitress soon returned with two small glasses. As Kyle paid the ridiculous tab, Sherry tried to peek at the girls’ backside, wishing she could see more. In another second, the waitress turned and slinked her naked ass to another table. Sherry sipped her drink and felt the warm sensation in her throat. She looked back up to the stage. The blond had wiggled her way over in front of a heavy middle-aged man waving a five dollar bill. The girl let him slip the money into her garter belt, then squatted and gyrated her crotch right in front of his face for a few seconds before smiling and moving on. Sherry felt herself blush and nervously gulped down the rest of her drink. She thought about going up to the dancer with a bill herself, but she didn’t dare with those sleazy-looking men surrounding the stage. The blond left the stage to scattered applause and a very skinny brunette girl with a black feather boa replaced her. She shook her bare chest for the crowd but there wasn’t much to jiggle. “Do any of the girls here have more than mosquito bites?” Sherry said out loud, then thought, “The brandy couldn’t be working this fast, could it?” to herself. Kyle pried his eyes from the blond still lingering by the stage. “What are you talking about?” “The dancers and the waitress look nice but they have boobs the size of mosquito bites. Are they all like that here?” Sherry realized she’d never shared her personal breast-size vocabulary with anyone. The brandy couldn’t be working _that_ quickly, could it? Kyle seemed to notice the interesting term and cleared his throat. “I dunno, but there’s another room upstairs we could check out. Wanna go?” “Sure.” They got up and headed for a staircase against the back wall. Along the way, Sherry noticed that some of the girls were writhing almost naked on top of men in dark booths away from the stage lights. She was astonished at first when she thought they were having sex, but then realized that the men were actually fully clothed. “So that’s a lap dance,” she thought, and wondered what it would feel like to be either participant. When they emerged from the narrow staircase, they found themselves on a deck area covered by a palm frond roof. Three of the walls were covered in palmetto thatch, and the forth was open screen facing the dark bay. Loud rock n’ roll music blared through large speakers, but the only others sharing the cool night air were a female bartender and two dancers talking on barstools under an electric heater. “Not much here,” said Kyle as they sat on a padded bench along the wall. “Let’s stay for a minute,” said Sherry. One of the girls had caught her eye even though her back was turned. She was tall and tan with jet-black hair and was wearing a white fishnet t-shirt, high-cut white bikini bottoms, and white sneakers with short socks. The other girl, a skinny creamy-skinned redhead, was wearing short denim shorts and a very tiny cut-off t-shirt. The redhead noticed Sherry staring and let her friend know about her admirer. The brunette turned to look, then smiled seductively and walked over. Sherry’s heart leapt like a lonely girl at the prom receiving unexpected attention from the star quarterback. “Hi, there” she said as she approached. “I’m Maria. Wanna dance?” Sherry found herself tongue-tied, her eyes pulled to Maria’s dark nipples under her barely-there white top. “Umm…” Kyle jumped in. “Sure, go for it, babe. That’s why we’re here. I’ve got you covered.” “What do you say, ‘babe’?” Maria asked. “I see you staring. Want some of this?” She zipped her t-shirt over her head, then bent over and put her hand on Sherry’s shoulder so that her beautiful full breasts hung right in Sherry’s face. Her touch was electric. Sherry nodded. “Ok, babe,” said Maria with a wry smirk. “I’ll be gentle.” Maria sat facing Sherry straddling Sherry’s right leg. She put both her hands on Sherry’s shoulders and began to slide up and down Sherry’s upper thigh. Sherry clenched her thigh muscles to give the dancer something firm to press against and felt Maria’s bikini-covered crotch rub against her own smooth skin. Sherry’s temperature was rising but she sat nervous and stiff with her hands bracing herself on the bench. Kyle had moved to a chair a few feet away. The pale redhead came over to talk to him, but Sherry couldn’t hear what they were saying over the music. The redhead’s shirt was so short that Sherry saw the rise of her small breasts whenever she moved her arms. Maria noticed that Sherry was distracted. The dancer leaned forward, laying her breasts on Sherry’s collarbones and her face to Sherry’s ear. “Ever tasted hot pussy?” Maria whispered breathily. “No…” “You should; it’s fucking great.” Maria suddenly lunged her torso back and her waist forward, pushing her knee under the hem of Sherry’s short dress and bumping the front of Sherry’s panties. Sherry gasped, her crotch instantly soaked. Maria did it again, this time a little harder, and arched her torso farther back, making her breasts stick up and out. Sherry stared longingly at Maria’s sexy curvy body. When the dancer’s knee again pushed forward under her dress, Sherry impulsively reached up and squeezed Maria’s breast. It was warm and soft and luscious. Maria smiled. “Go ahead, babe; feel me up.” Sherry touched Maria’s nipple with her thumb and felt it harden a bit. “Hold on,” said Maria abruptly and got up. Sherry thought she had crossed the line and the dancer was leaving, but her heart leapt again when she realized Maria was stripping completely. “You ready?” asked Maria as she wrapped her panties around her bicep. Sherry’s eyes flew to the dancer’s completely shaved slit. It was beautiful, and her own pussy cried out for attention. Glancing behind Maria, Sherry was a bit shocked to see the redhead sitting on Kyle, her back to him as she rubbed her ass against his lap. As she moved, her shirt occasionally rode up far enough that her nipples peeked out. To her mild surprise, she didn’t feel at all jealous but actually became more aroused watching the slender girl writhe against her boyfriend. Maria turned around to sit on Sherry’s lap facing out. While staring at the dancer’s beautiful round ass, Sherry impulsively pulled her panties down to her knees and yanked up the hem of her dress in one quick motion, letting the dancer’s bare ass come to rest on her upper thigh and trimmed pubic hair. Maria seemed pleasantly surprised. “You’re a real wildcat,” she said with a smile and leaned back against Sherry. She began to hunch her ass against Sherry’s crotch like the redhead was doing with Kyle, except in this case skin was touching skin. Maria grabbed Sherry’s hands to place them on her bare breasts, and Sherry squeezed them tenderly. She felt her panties slipping down to her calves and didn’t care. Sherry glanced over at Kyle. The redhead had taken off her top. Sherry watched the pale dancer bounce on her boyfriend’s lap, her small freckled breasts jiggling about. The redhead looked over at Maria and, seemingly trying to keep up, got up momentarily to unbutton her shorts and pull them down almost to her knees, revealing that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She turned and smiled at Kyle, then sat on his lap and resumed her grinding while Kyle closed his eyes and enjoyed her work. Sherry felt just a tinge of jealousy but had an idea. She held her knees tightly together so that her panties slid down to her ankles, then slipped them off completely with her feet. She adjusted her sitting angle so that she faced Kyle and let her knees relax and separate, guiding Maria’s knees apart at the same time. She tingled with anticipation, waiting for him to look her way and catch an eyeful of Maria’s open pussy right above her own. Kyle opened his eyes, then opened them wider when he saw the intended view. He whispered in the redhead’s ear. She smiled and they turned their chair to face Sherry directly. The redhead stopped bouncing and slipped her shorts down to her ankles, then slowly spread her legs wide apart. She covered her cunny coyly for a second, then moved her hand to expose her pink slit surrounded by a thin shock of curly orange hair. The dancer ran a single finger up her flat belly, between her breasts, and to her lip while starting to hump Kyle again, smiling seductively at Sherry the whole time. For a brief instant, Sherry wished that her boyfriend’s cock was sliding in and out that fiery cunt for all to see. It was all too much. Beads of sweat ran down Sherry’s brow despite the cool night air. Her pulse pounded in her head. “I’m gonna come,” she whispered in Maria’s ear, and Maria responded by grinding her ass even harder against Sherry’s slippery slit. Maria spread her legs farther open, pushing Sherry’s thighs wide open as well, and Sherry felt the touch of another woman on her pussy for the first time as the dancer reached down and briefly brushed her clit. Butterfly Ch. 03 That was all it took. “Oh, yesss,” hissed Sherry, trying not to cry out as a powerful orgasm washed over her. Maria adjusted her position, locking her crotch on Sherry’s leg and forcefully rubbing her pussy against Sherry’s clenched thigh muscles. Sherry was shocked by her first direct contact with the dancer’s burning pussy and came again immediately, groaning loudly despite herself. Within seconds, Maria cry out “Oh, fuck!”, and Sherry felt the dancer’s warm juices coat her upper leg. They sat motionless for a moment -- Maria straddling Sherry’s thigh and Sherry’s legs wide open, her hands clenching Maria’s breasts -- until they heard a female voice say “Damn!” Sherry opened her eyes and saw the redhead sitting still on Kyle’s lap, both staring wide-eyed at Sherry and Maria. The redhead’s shorts had fallen to the floor and her knees were far apart. Maria slowly got up and turned around, her hair damp with sweat. “You are one hot bitch,” she said as she put her skimpy outfit back on. Sherry pulled the hem of her dress back down to a semi-respectable position while Kyle handed the dancers some cash. Before they left, Maria turned to Sherry. “I’ll be here all night, ‘babe’” she said with a smile, and headed for the stairs. The redhead slipped her shirt over her head, grabbed her shorts, and followed her friend down the stairs bottomless. Kyle grinned at his disheveled girlfriend. “Have fun?” he asked. “Oh,” she gasped, “I need to catch my breath…” Kyle took her empty glass to a nearby water fountain and filled it up. Sherry took a minute to look around again. The room was still empty, but not for long. A few customers wandered up the stairs, followed by some different dancers. Kyle cleared his throat to get her attention. “Um, babe, you might want to fix yourself there.” She didn’t know what he meant until he nodded his head toward her chest. She looked down and realized that Maria’s performance had made the zipper f her dress open a little, exposing her cleavage down to the pink edges of her areolas. Sherry smiled coyly and gulped down the water. Before he could say anything, loud voices echoed up the stairs and several drunken frat-boy types arrived. Sherry and Kyle looked at each other. “Is it time to go?” asked Kyle. “I think so.” “Um, your dress?…” Sherry ignored him as they made their way past the frat boys and down the stairs. The club was much more crowded than it had been when they got there. Maria and the redhead were now on the main stage dancing to a slow R&B song, and Sherry paused to look longingly at her new friend dancing topless in the spotlight. However, the hooting of the crowd soon made her uncomfortable, and she responded to Kyle’s nonverbal question with a nod toward the door. A middle-aged fat man leered at her and made a comment she was glad she couldn’t hear as they weaved their way to the exit. She casually zipped up her dress and wondered how the dancers got used to that environment. When they got to the car, her ears were still ringing from the loud music and the nighttime silence was deafening. The sun had set long before and the parking lot was almost full. “Enjoy yourself?” Kyle asked with a smile as he opened the passenger door. She hugged him and nodded. “I’m glad we came early, though.” He got in and they pulled onto the highway. When the heater kicked on, she felt the air blow against bare skin under her dress and suddenly realized she had left her panties upstairs after her lap dance. She was about to ask Kyle to go back, but then realized it wouldn’t be worth the trouble. “Besides,” she thought to herself, “this could be fun.” “Ok, now I’ve admitted I had a good time. How about you?” she asked innocently. Kyle hesitated, sensing a possible trap. “Well, yeah, I guess…” She had him right where she wanted him. “I saw you with that redhead up there. I saw what you two were doing.” “Um…” “That little tart had freckles all over. Did you see the freckles on her tits?” Sherry realized she had never said the word ‘tits’ out loud in her life. Right now, she liked the sound of it. “Did you like that little tart’s freckled tits?” As she spoke, she unzipped her dress down to just below her belly button. “They were so small you could probably cover one with your mouth. Did you want to suck her little tits?” “Well…” “I thought so.” There was no one else on that dark stretch of highway. Sherry unbuckled her seatbelt and knelt on the bucket seat with her knees pointing at Kyle. Kyle glanced over and caught a glimpse of skin between the open flaps of her dress by the light of the dashboard. When she saw him watching, she slipped the spaghetti straps off her shoulders and let the top of her dress fall. “Wha…?” he asked, unable to see the impish look in her eyes because of the darkness. Sherry ignored his question. “That Irish wench wasn’t wearing any knickers! I’m sure you noticed that, Rhett Butler!” Kyle relaxed and began to play along. “Why, I certainly did, Miss Scarlett.” “She even pulled off her shorts, the little slut! She just sat right there on your lap showing off her pussy!” She had never talked like this, but the night’s events had awakened something inside her and it just came naturally. “She spread her pussy for me! I saw her orange bush. Her cunt lips were red! Did you see that hot pussy? Did she turn you on?” “That little lass was the sweetest dish I’ve ever seen.” As he spoke, Sherry maneuvered over the emergency brake and sat facing him on his lap, her legs straddling his hips. She pulled up her hem so that her bare pussy rested on his jeans and her entire dress was bunched up around her waist. She lowered her head so he could see the road and unbuttoned his shirt. “She rubbed her bare ass against you, didn’t she? Did you like it? Did it make your cock hard?” She began to grind her crotch against his jeans and felt the answer to her question push back against her from under the denim. She slipped his shirt off one sleeve at a time so he could keep a hand on the wheel and flung the shirt into the back seat. “Hard as Stone Mountain…” he mumbled as she grabbed the bottom of his undershirt and quickly pulled it over his head. It was dangerous, but frankly, she didn’t give a damn. She tossed his undershirt into the back seat and ran her hands over his smooth tone chest. “Did you want to kiss her freckles?” she asked, then licked his nipple. “Did you want to lick her tits and eat her pussy?” She was making it difficult for him to stay in character. “Oh yeah…” She laid her chin on his shoulder so he could see the road and humped her pussy against the bulge in his jeans, her breasts mashed against his hairless chest. The denim rubbed her pussy lips raw. She kept at it until she could feel ecstasy closing in fast. “Did you want her to rip off your jeans and sit on your big dick? Did you want to shove your cock into that fiery pussy? Did you want me to watch while you fucked her and made her come???” She was yelling now, and moved so wildly that her back bumped the steering wheel and her stomach slapped wetly against Kyle’s abs. She gripped him tightly and cried out as she came, soaking his jeans. She kissed him tenderly, then flopped back into her own seat. They passed a brightly lit billboard and Kyle saw her bare breasts heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She looked over and smiled. “Wow, both sides of a lap dance in one night.” He smiled back. “I’m glad you’re having fun.” Sherry suddenly looked concerned. “Are you?” Kyle laughed out loud. “No, I’ve just been humped by two beautiful women and watched my girlfriend get a naked lap dance. I’d much rather be bowling.” She gave him a playful slap on the arm. They kissed and listened to the wheels on the road for a while. “Sorry to bring up such mundane matters,” Kyle finally said, “but I’m getting hungry. We kinda forgot to eat dinner.” “Oh, yeah! I saw a sign for a Wendy’s a few miles ahead. Why don’t we get a bite and turn around; I think we missed the turnoff to the Vecino Beach a while back there.” Kyle looked around sheepishly. “Well, it’s hard to navigate with so many distractions.” Sherry pulled the straps back over her shoulders but didn’t zip up the front of her dress. Kyle just stayed the way he was, wearing only his jeans. They listened to the radio and talked a bit. All the time, she kept looking at his lean, muscular body in the inconsistent lighting and began to want him again. While continuing to talk, she casually reached over and undid the button of his jeans. He ignored it, so she slowly unzipped his fly and spread it open, exposing his boxers. The large bulge in the thin fabric was obvious. She unbuttoned the front of his boxers, grasped his familiar warm shaft, and freed it from confinement. He was trying to pretend nothing was happening, but she saw his cock swaying stiffly in the passing streetlights. The sight turned her on immensely and gave her an idea for something different. She slowly ran her hand up her own dampening slit, then reached over and spread her wetness over his shaft. Without saying a word, she grabbed his right wrist and guided it to his crotch. He understood and began to stroke himself while she watched. She had never seen a man (or woman) masturbate, and though she could barely see Kyle, it was enough. She returned her hand to her own crotch and began to slowly massage her clit, her eyes locked on Kyle’s fist moving steadily up and down. Her juices were flowing freely again, and wet slurping sounds almost drowned out the radio as she began to finger-fuck herself. She didn’t notice the Wendy’s sign until he released his cock to turn the car into the parking lot. “Kyle!” she chided, pulling the hem of her dress down to cover what it covered. She felt like someone had thrown cold water on her face. “Sorry, babe, but by the time we pass another food place, it’ll be closed. It’s pretty late, you know.” Sherry looked around and realized he was right. Only the drive-thru was open, but even that would be closing soon. “What do you want?” he asked. “At this hour, I guess just a potato. Oh, and a Frostie! But just a small.” As they pulled around to the menu, Sherry fixed her dress straps but realized that Kyle’s cock was still exposed and bobbing about. “Kyle!” she whispered, pointing down. He gave her a wicked smile and began to stroke himself again. “Welcome to Wendy’s, can I help you?” came a tired-sounding female voice over the tinny speaker. Kyle ordered oh so casually while continuing to jack off the whole time. Sherry thought they might get arrested, but she was instantly so aroused that she wasn’t going to stop him. She could see him clearly now in the bright lights, but she wished she could see even more. His shaft stuck out of his fly like a missile sticking out of a silo, its base hidden. Kyle finished ordering and pulled around. He was finally about to put his cock away when they noticed that there was another car waiting at the pick-up window. Impulsively, Sherry dove her head down into Kyle’s lap and began desperately sucking on his cock, trying to make him finish before the other car left. She tasted his salty pre-cum but was very disappointed to hear a car engine rev as the other customer pulled away. “Sherry…” whispered Kyle, and she quickly slipped his shaft back into his fly and sat up. “$3.16,” said the blonde at the window. She automatically took Kyle’s $10, but did a double take into the car while handing back the change. Sherry understood why. There they were, an attractive couple in their early 20s, him showing off his tone gorgeous chest and stomach with the fly of his jeans unzipped, her with the front of her skimpy dress unzipped. Sherry looked down at herself and realized that while you couldn’t see much skin from the front, the open flaps showed off a lot from the side. The drive-thru girl could probably see the side of her right breast almost to her nipple. The girl looked about 18 and, in her lusty state of mind, Sherry thought she was pretty hot. Sherry had worked at a late-night drive-thru one summer in high school. She considered how she would have felt if a hot half-dressed couple would have showed up late one on her shift. She decided she would have wanted to see more. Sherry subtly pushed the straps of her dress just over her shoulders, widening the opening between the loose flaps a little more. When the girl came back to deliver the frostie, Sherry leaned over Kyle to take it herself, and let her breasts fall completely out of her dress in the process. With her free hand, she squeezed the crotch of Kyle’s jeans, then sat back casually, inserted a straw into the cup, and took a sip. She kept her shoulders back so that her hard nipples remained peeking out into the cool air. Kyle stared over in amazement. “Um,” said the worker, clearly befuddled by this turn of events, “the potatoes will be a minute. Would you like to wait?…” “Sure…” said Kyle. He pulled into a nearby parking space and gave Sherry a look of pure astonishment, to which she responded by letting her straps slip down to her elbows, exposing her breasts entirely to the night. “You, Scarlett, are no lady,” he said with raised eyebrows. “And you, Rhett, are no gentleman,” she replied, then reached over and yanked his still-swollen cock out of the fly of his boxers. She dropped a spoonful of the frostie at its tip, then eagerly licked it and sucked it off. “Cum for me, baby,” she said, and pulled his hand back down to his shaft. He looked around quickly and, not seeing anyone, began to stroke himself as fast as he could. “No, use your left hand so I can see you better,” she said, and he complied with her request. She pulled up her hem again and tickled her cunny, producing so much lubricant that she cupped it in her palm and poured it on the tip of his shaft, her eyes locked on his busy hand. “C’mon, baby; stroke your big cock; watch me while I watch you…” she moaned, slipping her arms completely out of her straps to let the top of her dress fall. Once again, she was in public with her dress bunched up around her waist. She raising her left foot onto the column between the seats and her right foot on the dashboard so Kyle could get a really good look of her holding her pussy lips open with one hand while tickling her clit with the other. When she was sure he was staring right between her legs, she dramatically plunged two fingers deep inside herself and jumped with the sensation. She began to feverishly play with herself, alternating hands so that she could rub her own wetness all over her body, gasping when her damp hands hit her rock-hard nipples. Soon, her chest and belly and arms and thighs and even her face glistened with her own pussy juice in the bright pink glow of the parking lot lights. Her lust was out of control, and all she wanted to do was get herself off. Seconds later, Kyle lifted his ass slightly off the seat. “Here you go, baby,” he whispered fiercely, and she dove down to engulf his cock in her lips. With one flick of her tongue, he groaned and spurted into her waiting mouth. She felt the sticky warmth fill her mouth and hit the back of her throat. She looked him in the eye and stuck out her tongue covered in his milky white seed, then swallowed it down. She gripped his cock as another burst of his cum shot up an inch or two like a mini-fountain, and she watched it run down his shaft and onto her hand. She kissed the little slit where the last of his semen dribbled out while her other hand renewed its work in her pussy. Just then, they heard the door of the restaurant squeak open. “Oh, shit,” mumbled Kyle, desperately trying to maneuver his slick and still partially-erect cock back into hiding. His boxers had bunched up beneath him and his shaft kept popping out of the fly. The best he could do was place it so that it made a tent at the left edge of his open fly, exposing the entire right side of his shaft in Sherry’s direction. Sherry, on the other hand, kept fingering herself, desperately trying to reach her climax. “Sherry!” Kyle whispered in warning as he saw someone – not the girl from the window – walking across the parking lot with a bag of food. Just as the worker reached the left rear bumper, Sherry finished, gasping audibly though she tried to keep quiet. When she saw a shadow through the window, she regained a little modesty. She sat properly and pulled down her hem, but had no time to fix the top of her dress. Her face reddening, she quickly folded her arms over her bare breasts. “You guys ready for the baked potatoes?” asked the worker, her face in Kyle’s open window. It was another girl, a little older than the blonde at the drive-thru. She was petite with short dark hair, several earrings in each ear, and a dark leather necklace. Her nametag said “Crystal,” and her facial expression was a mix of excitement and wry amusement. Sherry knew what the girl must by thinking; both she and Kyle were topless, flush, and sweaty and the car smelled strongly of sex. “Yep, we sure are,” said Kyle, trying to end this conversation quickly. “Do ya’ll need anything else? Butter or sour cream or something?” Crystal asked nonchalantly, obviously enjoying the situation. She seemed to keep looking over at Sherry. Sherry felt something wet and sticky on her bottom lip and, assuming it was frostie, automatically tried to wipe it off. However, more of the stuff was on her fingers and she smeared it even more. She glanced in the car’s side mirror and was mortified to see Kyle’s cum on her face around her mouth. It was almost transparent above and below her lips, but it collected into an obvious white gob at her chin. She blushed furiously, but the raw obscenity of own reflection was so over the top that it turned her on yet again. Her heart pounding, she deliberately turned her face towards Kyle’s open window and stretched out her tongue to clean her lower lip. “You want a show, you got a show,” she thought to herself, and slowly unfolded her arms to reveal her toplessness to the voyeuristic girl. At the same instant, a drop of Kyle’s gooey seed fell on her left breast and the wetness ran slowly down to her nipple. A cool gust of air chilled her damp bare skin, and goose bumps appeared on her arms and chest. It was the most erotic moment of her life – so far. “Um, no, we’ve got everything,” said Kyle finally, still trying to be Mr. Cool-Under-Pressure. His composure was tested further when his suddenly rock-hard erection popped out of his boxers just as Crystal handed the bag through the window. He quickly guided the food down to cover himself, but lowered it too far and banged the bottom of the bag against the head of his shaft. It was obvious to everyone what the obstruction was. “Well, ya’ll enjoy,” said Crystal with a significant look. She still wasn’t in a hurry to go, so Kyle said something, anything to get her to leave. “Ok, you too!” he called cheerfully as he unsuccessfully tried to put the car in gear with his left hand while covering himself with the bag he held in his right hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Sherry told him and took the bag. Crystal’s eyes quickly darted from Sherry’s cum-dripped face and breasts to Kyle’s fully erect cock and back again. She smiled directly at Sherry, and puckered up her lips in a silent kiss that sent electric shivers down Sherry’s back. Then she backed away from the car and watched as Kyle pulled out of the parking space and onto the highway. Sherry got a fork out of the bag, used it to scrape Kyle’s semen off her chin, swallowing it with a bite of potato. “Mmmm, I don’t need any sour cream,” she cooed. She was tired and a little sore, but between her wanton self-exposure and Crystal’s blown kiss, she needed release one more time. And Kyle’s cock was ready and waiting. Butterfly Ch. 03 She put her potato back in the bag, climbed over the center column and onto his lap, and guided his shaft into her. “One more time, baby…” she whispered into his ear. Kyle pulled the car over to the side of the dark highway. As soon as he turned off the headlights, she pulled his jeans down to his knees and they humped furiously. He was so turned on that his cock was longer than she had ever felt it, pushing its length deep within her. It didn’t take long. She felt him come inside of her, and she immediately responded by releasing her own flow of orgasmic juice, crying out into the dark Florida night. After sitting motionless together for a minute, their pounding hearts slowing, she slowly peeled herself off him and plopped back in her own seat, finally exhausted. “You’re insatiable tonight!” Kyle said when he regained his breath and pulled back unto the road. “And here I thought you might be pissed off because I mentioned your dream on the phone…” “I don’t know, that club just flipped a switch in my head somewhere. I felt so horny it’s almost like I was drugged with some love potion or something.” “Or lust potion. I couldn’t believe you at Wendy’s. You sure gave those girls an eyeful.” Sherry laughed. “Yeah, I thought that “wait for your potato” thing was an excuse to call the cops.” They laughed together and Kyle pulled back onto the dark highway. “God, I’m tired,” Sherry said after a moment. “Me, too,” Kyle admitted. “Let’s find try to find a motel if we still can.” After about twenty minutes, they found themselves on the now quiet main drag of Vecino Beach. Kyle pulled into the first motel with the office light still on and got a room. Though they both wanted to play some more, they were so exhausted that they feel asleep as soon as they hit the bed. Saturday was a delightful day spent making love on the lousy motel mattress and relaxing on the shore. Later that afternoon, they finally got their seafood dinner, then browsed through a few shops on the way back to their room. They were poking through the touristy t-shirts in their motel’s little surf shop when Kyle picked up something from the women’s swimwear rack. “Hey, you’ve always wanted a skimpy bikini. What about this one?” he told Sherry with a mischievous grin as he waved it around. The tag said it was a “Micro-G Bikini”, but it looked more like random scraps of white cloth tied to a hanger. Sherry looked it over and commented aloud how they could charge so much money for so little suit. “Wonder how it’d look on you,” Kyle commented casually. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she took his challenge (and the bikini) into the dressing room. Over her bra and panties, the Micro-G looked ridiculously small. The top consisted of two tiny white triangles strategically held in place by straps not much thicker than narrow yarn. Sherry guessed it would cover her nipples and not much else. The straps tied in the middle of her back and under her hair at her neck. The g-string bottoms consisted mostly of the same spaghetti-style straps. The string settled between her butt cheeks, circled her waist, and dipped dangerously low in the front, where it held a tiny v-shaped triangle of white material right over her crotch. Sherry could cover the entire front panel of the Micro-G with three carefully placed fingers. It was the most daring swimsuit Sherry had ever seen. From behind, it looked like she wasn’t wearing anything at all. She even doubted it was legal to wear in public. But she had to have it. She back into her clothes and marched out of the dressing room towards the cash register. “Where are you going to wear that?” asked Kyle as he joined her at the counter. “To a special occasion.” “Invite me, please.” “Oh, you’ll be there. And,” she added suddenly, “you’ll need something to wear, too.” She asked the cashier to wait while she went over to the men’s section and grabbed a g-string for Kyle. He made a face. “No butt floss for me, please.” “Alright, but then you’ll have to skimp somewhere else. It’s only fair.” Sherry went back and picked out a pair of white briefs. The backside was similar to the Speedos Kyle wore as a swimmer in high school, but the front was just a narrow and very low cut pouch. She smiled wickedly when she saw the tag: “Men’s Micro-Briefs”. “Look!” she said, showing him the brand. “We’ll match!” He knew he couldn’t argue at this point and stood beside her, his face turning red, as the middle-aged lady raised an eyebrow and totaled their naughty purchases. “Where to now?” Kyle asked as they stepped out into the late afternoon sun. “You know, there’s a pretty good view of the sunset from my bedroom, Rhett Butler,” she said coyly, then squeezed his ass and ran playfully up the stairs of their motel back to their room. --- to be continued --- Butterfly Ch. 04 Chapter IV - Sherry's Diary: Weekend at Jen's Dear Diary, Yes, my diary, it's time to pretend I'm writing to Jen ... again. Maybe one day I'll get enough guts to share all this with her someday... maybe... sigh... Jen-- I was so happy when you told me you'd be back in Florida for two weeks house sitting for your aunt! I've missed you so much since you moved to Atlanta! :( Thanks for inviting us down to the house last Saturday! We had a great time, but it could have been even better. I think you might even have a hint of my feelings toward you now, but of course, I chickened out again. I'm sorry you got sick from too many rum runners. To be perfectly honest, I was trying to get you drunk so I could seduce you. I thought it would work, too, but nothing seemed to go right that night. You didn't know we brought our scandalous swimsuits to wear in the pool. I was very disappointed when you told us you had just shock treated the water so we couldn't go in. We thought about going clubbing and ending up at Beach Bunnies, but you thought you should be home when your aunt called to check on you (the old slave driver!). We were reduced to renting that stupid T&A movie just to turn you on. (Yes, Kyle was in on it, too. I'm so desperate to get you in the sack that I wouldn't even mind sharing him with you or you with him - for a little while.) Anyway, it was kinda exciting sitting there with you drinking and watching those 80s-haired bimbos shake their fake boobs around in that retarded movie (I wished that movie had more sex and nudity and less teasing). I liked looking at you more. You made me hot just lounging on the couch in your t-shirt and shorts. I wanted to jump your bones, or at least ask you to share that king-sized bed in the master bedroom with us, but I stayed patient. But I guess we drank a few too many, huh? Jen, I've never seen you so wasted. I couldn't believe you when we were making ice cream sundaes. You remember, right? You started yelling "I love nuts! And cherries! Mmmm, lick them nuts and cherries!", then picked up those two maraschino cherries by the stems and ran your tongue underneath them. I joined you and our tongues brushed for a second... woah! At that moment, I was so hot and so wasted that I finally had enough nerve to rip off your shorts and lick your cherry. Do you remember that I squeezed your tit? I'll never forget. But right then, you got a very odd look on your face. I thought you were going to scream or slap me or something, but you ran out of the room. I was shocked, but then I heard a horrible retching sound from the bathroom and realized that you had gotten sick. I'm so sorry I made those drinks so strong. I was trying to lower your inhibitions, but I guess I overdid it with the Captain Morgan. I felt so guilty about making you sick that I went in there to help you clean up and get upstairs to your room. You were really out of it. But after you were in bed, that image of you and the cherries played through my mind and I began to feel horny again. Kyle was pretty turned on, too, and soon we were naked and fooling around on that giant bed in the master bedroom. I don't know how we ended up on the floor beside the bed, but after a few minutes, there we were on the rug, fucking away in the dark with me on top. That's when the really kinky stuff began. Kyle mumbled something about wishing we had gone at it like this downstairs while watching the movie, and I got a sudden naughty idea. I maneuvered us so that Kyle had his feet under the bed and his head pointed towards the closed bedroom door, then stretched forward to grab the knob and swung it open. The faint nightlight in the hall seemed really bright flooding into the formerly pitch-dark room. Kyle's eyes about bugged out, and my heart pounded even harder as we had hot sex in an open room with you in the same house. Our wild motions were taking us a little closer to the doorway with every thrust. Kyle and I realized this at the same time and gave each other a wicked smile. Without saying a word, we both knew exactly what we would do; we began to actively scoot ourselves towards the open door. I felt my tits bounce crazily as I tried to inch us along the carpet with my knees. Soon, Kyle's head was out in the hall, then his chest and shoulders, then his torso up to his waist. When I got to the doorway, I reached out and pushed off the doorframe with both arms, starting a soft squishy noise as my juices ran between Kyle's legs onto the cool wooden floor. I looked back and saw him push off the wall with his feet, sliding us clear of the bedroom rug. Our wet skin slid more easily across the waxed hallway floor, headed right for you. In just a few seconds, we were at the landing at the top of the stairs. A thrilling shiver shot through me when I realized that were visible from most of the house. I looked down at the sofa where you had been sitting an hour before, then watched the sweat on Kyle's smooth chest glistening in the dim light. When I looked up, his head was almost bumping against your door. Now only a thin piece of wood separated us from you. I was facing your room, so near that when I leaned forward to kiss Kyle's forehead, my hair brushed against your door. I didn't try to muffle my moans or our squishy noises at all and mentally screamed for you to get up. I thought about opening your door myself, but held back in case you'd be freaked out. So I stared at that doorknob wishing sooo hard to see it turn and for the door to swing open. Oh, god, did I want you to open your door and see us. I even hit the light switch to turn on the overhead light, making me feel like we were suddenly fucking in a spotlight. Kyle looked terrified for a second, but I calmed him by bending over and laying my chest on his face, my cheek against your door. As he kissed my nipples, I closed my eyes and imagined the scene that would follow if your door would open. It would swing open slowly and I'd see your pretty sleepy face peeking out, your hair still messed up from your slumber. You'd stare in shock for a moment, and I'd smile seductively and straighten up, bathing our sweaty nude bodies in the full glare of the light bulb over my head. I'd keep leaning back until I was lying on Kyle's legs, and you'd open the door wider, your eyes magnetically pulled to where Kyle 's shiny slick cock moved in and out of my red, wet, puffy cunt lips, your nipples slowly and visibly hardening into little bumps beneath your nightshirt. I imagined you standing in the half-open doorway, deciding whether or not you should close the door while carelessly pulling the front of your nightshirt up to your belly button. I'd sit up, beckoning you forward while blowing you a kiss, then smile with satisfaction as you 'd open the door a little wider and slip your hand into the front of your panties. I imagined watching your fingers move under the thin cotton fabric as I mimicked your actions by reaching down to tickle my clit and massage Kyle's balls. I'd savor the moment when you finally lost your inhibitions and pushed your panties down over your slender hips to the middle of your thighs, then let them fall down your long legs to your ankles. I imagined you rubbing your mound, your hands still partially covering yourself to my frustration, until you became dizzy with lust and sat on the floor right behind Kyle's head. I imagined you flipping your panties off your foot and over the banister to land downstairs, then openly and eagerly masturbating, your beautiful pussy finally open to my lecherous eyes, your thighs spread far apart so I could watch you tickle your clit and plunge your fingers deep inside. I imagined grabbing my tits and slowly licking my own nipples while you watched me and I watched you. I wanted you to scoot even closer, your feet brushing my knees, as I came and screamed in ecstasy, then hear you moan and watch you wet the hardwood floor and Kyle's hair right between your legs when you came as well. I'd get up slowly so you could see Kyle's rock-hard cock pop out of me and slap back against his wet skin, then stand in front of you with my feet on either side of Kyle's head and my crotch in your face. I'd gently pull your head forward, and your eyes would meet mine as your tongue stretched out and touched my yearning pussy for the first time. I'd pull you in closer so you could taste me while Kyle watched everything from below and jacked himself off. After only a few seconds of feeling your lips and tongue caressing my clit and lips, I'd be in heaven as my best friend made me come for the first time. My flowing juices would wet your pretty chin, dripping down into Kyle's waiting mouth. We'd hear him groan beneath us and would turn our heads just in time to see him pump his cum onto his washboard abs up to his chest. I'd take your hand and help you up, then slowly peel your PJs over your head to expose all of your luscious body to my lecherous gaze. I'd throw your nightshirt down the stairs to join your panties, kiss Kyle goodnight, then lead you back into your room, where we'd spend the night doing things I've long dreamed of doing with you... Of course, you never came out. But what did you mean the next day when you made some crack about "public affection" with a big smile on your face??? Did you hear us??? Were you turned on? Where you fingering yourself in bed listening to us fuck in the hallway? Did you even peek under the door to try to see us? Would you have joined us if you weren't feeling sick? I'd like to think so. And, no matter what, it was the best sex I've ever had. But now who knows when we'll see each other again. I wish you wouldn't have moved away, but I'll be thinking of you every time I come... Butterfly Ch. 05 Chapter V: The JRG Author's note: The first part of this chapter is written from Kyle's perspective. Some of it is based on things he told me later, the rest is just me guessing what dirty thoughts were going through his head. When you stop and think about it, you never really know someone. You might know their favorite foods and music and you can guess how they'll react in a certain situation, but after years and years, they'll do something that you would have never dreamed they'd do. On the other hand, sometimes you notice something about someone long before they admit it, sometimes before they even discover it about themselves. Sherry's attraction to other women was more like that. We hadn't been together for very long before I realized that girls turn her on. Let me set the scene. Sherry and I met in a psychology class at UCF. We were paired together for some stupid class project and soon discovered that we had grown up just a few blocks apart. We hit it off pretty well so I asked her out (or she asked me; I can't remember) and we started hanging out together a lot. After we had been going out regularly for about a month, a friend gave me two passes to Busch Gardens. We skipped class and headed over to Tampa on a Thursday to avoid the crowds, but the park was packed anyway. But we had fun riding the roller coasters and winning a big toy tiger and making faces at the apes; the whole touristy deal. In the afternoon, a big thunderhead rolled in out of nowhere, sending the sunburned masses hurrying for the front gate before the sky opened up. We thought about leaving but decided to wait out the summer storm and enjoy the shorter lines once the rain had passed. Big juicy drops began to fall just as we passed a covered amphitheater, so we ran inside. As luck would have it, a show was about to start. I avoid these attraction shows like the plague because they're usually pretty bad. This one seemed to be no exception. It began with a bunch of mediocre clowns falling over each other and doing ancient pie-in-the-face type stuff. I tried to maneuver into a comfortable napping position on the steel bench with little success. After a while, a rag-tag group of acrobats joined the clowns. I was unimpressed with the new group as well – that is, until I noticed the performer who will be forever known as the Jump Rope Girl, or JRG. The JRG really stood out from the rest on the group, and not only because the clowns and most of the jump ropers were guys. In fact, the only other female member of the whole troupe was a middle-aged woman who looked so much like an older version of the JRG that she had to be her mom. Even in a pack of other girls, though, I would have spotted the JRG first. She was tall and slender and obviously in very good shape with the long, tone muscles characteristic of a gymnast or dancer. The MC had said the group was from Russia or Slovenia or somewhere (I hadn't been paying much attention) and her pixie-like face had a hint of somewhere far away. If she was from a colder clime, though, she'd been spending a lot of time in the Florida sun because her cheeks glowed with a golden tan. Her dark hair was long and tied into two pigtails that hung down just past her shoulders. That hairstyle made her look younger, but I guessed she was around 17 or 19 or so. The JRG wore a tight white bodysuit with outdated 80s-style colorful splashes and a little skirt. The bodysuit was long sleeved and long legged, going down to her graceful wrists and bare feet. The front of her costume had a modest U-neck that revealed only a little cleavage but presented her youthful breasts very nicely. They were lovely – pert, perfectly shaped, and just the right size for her body with absolutely no sag. Her attractive body got my attention, but it was the way she moved which held it. As the other performers went through their short routines, she bided her time wiggling her hips and playfully dancing to the canned music. It wasn't much, but she moved her nubile body with such effortless sexiness that I couldn't turn away. She was one of those people with an air of absolutely natural and unforced sexuality about them, someone who could be drinking her coffee at 6AM with a hangover and a bad case of morning hair and still manage to make you jealous of her looks. As she shimmied lazily at the back of the stage, the JRG seemed to be in her own special world. I wanted to go there on vacation. When the JRG took her turn at center stage and began to skip rope, she aggressively revealed her animal magnetism to the whole crowd. It quickly became obvious that she wasn't wearing any kind of bra because her beautiful breasts bounced wildly with each hop. They were supple and firm at the same time; rising majestically then quickly snapping back into position, only to boing! up again with her next jump. The amount of cleavage visible above her costume varied widely through the up and down cycle. Her boobs threatened to escape from the confines of her bodysuit again and again but came up tantalizingly short each time. I've seen several gymnastics events and dance recitals, but I've never seen anything as brazenly eye-catching as the JRG's magical chest before or since. All too quickly, she stepped back to let another performer have a turn and resumed her subtle dancing. Suddenly, a pang of guilt hit me as I remembered that I was ogling the JRG with my new girlfriend sitting right beside me. I peeked over, expecting an evil eye or a smack on the arm, but Sherry wasn't paying attention to me at all. With real amazement, I realized that she was staring right at the JRG with the same look of longing that I had probably worn just a moment before. Sherry must have felt my eyes on her because she turned her head and grinned sheepishly. "She's having fun," she mumbled by way of explanation. I didn't know quite how to react but figured that if it was ok for my girlfriend to eyeball the beautiful acrobat, it was ok for me, too. And the JRG didn't disappoint. She joined a group of performers doing complicated steps inside two long spinning ropes, turning a few times so everyone in the small audience could get another good look at her bounding beauties. Then she did something even better; she flipped over into a handstand and skipped a single rope upside down. Besides letting her breasts descend until her nipples were only millimeters away from becoming visible under the bright spotlights, this position flipped up her skirt. I guess I expected her to be wearing some kind of panties underneath because my heart almost stopped when I saw she wasn't -- all that covered her nether regions was that amazing spandex bodysuit. Her costume was so tight on her nimble body that it almost seemed painted on. It emphasized and accentuated every curve and muscle of her shapely ass and legs and even revealed the distinct outline of the lovely mound between her powerful thighs. I glanced over at Sherry. She stared at the upturned girl with an expression of pure rapture, her face slightly flushed. When the JRG flipped back onto her feet, the small crowd cheered much more loudly that you'd expect for a simple trick. Soon afterwards, the show came to a close and each performer took a final bow. When it was her turn, the JRG made sure to bounce her assets one last time, even doing a couple of high kicks to flip up her skirt. I got the sudden impression that she knew exactly what she was doing and enjoyed teasing the crowd. Perhaps the fact that her traveling company consisted of her mother and a bunch of gay men (well, they looked gay) had incited her into expressing her sexuality to strangers. Or maybe her mother encouraged her alluring daughter's displays to generate more engagements for the otherwise unexciting troupe. Whatever the motives, the audience (including Sherry) applauded with enthusiastic approval. The sky was clearing and the rain down to a light drizzle when we left the theater, but Sherry said that she was "tired" and thought we should head on out rather than wait for the weather. When we got to the car, she asked me to stop at her parents' house (which was nearby) to get a CD she'd forgotten. Realizing that the house was probably still empty at that hour, I began to figure out what she really had in mind. My lustful suspicions made it hard to focus on the road. As soon as we got to the house and the front door closed behind us, we were all over each other. We had never gone beyond kissing and a little groping, but in a few minutes, we were on Sherry's bed humping away. Her parents arrived home about an hour later, but we had been so frantically horny that we each came a couple of times and had time to clean up and cool off before they showed up. Our excellent timing also earned us a free dinner. We didn't get back to Orlando until well after dark. Sherry invited me up to her apartment, where we repeated our earlier performance in her other bedroom. Only this time, we slowed our frenzied pace and really enjoyed exploring each other's bodies for the first time. I guess she hadn't been so tired after all. We haven't talked about the JRG since, but I've never forgotten her public show -- or the private shows that followed. I've always wondered if Sherry remembers her as well as I do. One day, I'll have to ask her... ---------------------------- After the disappointment of the interrupted seduction of Jen, Sherry put aside the thought of fulfilling her fantasies for a while. Her best friend and object of hidden desire had returned to Washington and Sherry had no other real candidates for the position. She couldn't bring herself to make a move on her other friends or co-workers and she wasn't quite desperate enough to trawl a "lesbo" club or put an ad in the "woman to woman" section of the personals. So she tried to focus on her job and ignore the warm feeling between her legs that still appeared whenever she saw a particularly attractive woman or remembered that wild night at Beach Bunnies. Her sex life with Kyle began to suffer as well. It was good, but she had felt so close to expanding her horizons that the same old thing just wasn't very exciting any more. The previous year, they had celebrated the anniversary of their first date. Kyle planned a bigger night out for their 2nd anniversary, but she soon realized that "bigger" actually meant "more expensive". He took her to the best restaurant in town and then to some classy high-end clubs she'd never visited and hadn't really wanted to go. Even after a few glasses of wine, she wasn't much in the mood to fool around when he coyly asked her back to his apartment. But she played along. They had indifferent sex missionary-style, which she enjoyed but not much. Sherry was wondering how she could politely escape from his tiny bed and get back to her apartment for a good night's sleep when he said something very surprising. "Remember the jump rope girl?" Kyle asked casually. He was lying behind her and whispered into her ear, kissing it while waiting for her response. "Who?" she replied, honestly having no idea what he was talking about. "At Busch Gardens way back when. The girl who almost bounced out of her costume." Sherry's eyes widened. She hadn't thought about the JRG in a long time, but now the vision of that gorgeous acrobat in tight spandex rushed back into her mind. "Oh," she mumbled, "that jump rope girl." "You thought she was hot, didn't you? Remember when she started jumping? I thought you'd catch a fly your jaw dropped so far." Sherry blushed furiously. "It did not…" "Oh, yes it did. You thought I didn't notice, but I did. You'd think she'd have some decency, but I think she enjoyed letting her boobs bounce around. You seemed to enjoy it, too." He kissed her ear again and she let out a quick breath. "And remember when she did a handstand and her tiny little skirt flip upside down? She just had that bodysuit on underneath and it was so tight it looked like somebody had dipped her in white paint. You seemed to enjoy that, too." "Hmmm…" Sherry remembered the JRG's athletic legs and ass very well. She also remembered how the spandex clung to the girl's crotch, revealing to Sherry's discerning eye that the performer's public display had caused her labia to swell with excitement under the tightly stretched material. The image lingered in Sherry's mind, bringing with it feelings she'd tried to repress over the preceding few weeks. Kyle's stiffening hot member probed the back of her thighs and she opened them almost unconsciously. He gently but firmly pulled her into a kneeling position. She was very wet when he slipped into her from behind. "What would you do if she was right there in the doorway?" he asked. Sherry stared at the dark hall outside of Kyle's bedroom, trying to imagine the JRG stepping into view wearing her sexy costume, her cute pigtails hanging innocently. "Would you like that?" he continued, now sliding slowly in and out of Sherry as she faced the door on all fours. "Yeah…" she whispered, and he knew he had pushed the right buttons. "Would you like her to come closer?" "Yeah…" Sherry imagined the girl slowly striding towards the bed, her dancer's muscles rippling under the spandex. "Would you like her to take off her skirt?" Kyle thrusted harder now. "Oh, yeah…" Sherry imagined what the girl's costume would look like without the skirt, the long and curvy lines of her body unbroken and outlined by the tight suit. "She's jumping a little for you," Kyle suggested. It sounded like a chauvinist send-up from the "Man Show," but Sherry played out the mental image and moaned softly with approval. "I think she's getting excited, too. Tell me what she's doing." Sherry was more turned on than she'd been since they fucked right outside Jen's door. Her usually hidden fantasies began to flow once again. "She's running her hands up her sides, up and down her costume." "Up to her tits?" Kyle hardly ever used the word, and hearing it further broke down Sherry's inhibitions. "Yeah, she's cupping them for us, pushing them up, squeezing them through her suit," Sherry breathed. "Is she trying to push them out of her costume?" "I just see the edge of her nipple. She noticed it now and pulled it all the way free. She pinched it for me." "Is she licking it?" The thought sent another tingle down Sherry's spine. "Yeah, her tongue can barely reach it but she's trying." "Did I hear her suit rip?" Another tingle. "Yeah, it's torn a little right down the middle. She ripped it more on purpose and she's playing with both of her tits now." "What do they look like?" Kyle asked, sounding like he'd love to see them himself. Sherry had dreamed about the JRG's barely-covered breasts many times and answered without even thinking. "They're kinda small and round and her nipples are dark and hard and beautiful. She's shaking them for me." "Tell her to show you more." "She's ripping her costume more now. I can see down to her belly button. She's got great abs." "Where are her hands?" "They're going down her body…" "Do you want to see her pussy?" "Oh, yes…" Sherry closed her eyes. "Her hands are all over it now." "Tell her to move them." "She did, and her costume fell down to her knees. Her pussy is beautiful." "Tell me what it looks like." "It's smooth and puffy and wonderful and really really wet…" Kyle was pounding piston-like into Sherry now. "What does she want you to do? What do you want to do?" "Eat her pussy…" Sherry gasped. "She kicked off her costume…. she sat on the bed…" Kyle suggested. "She's spreading her legs for me…" "Eat that cunt!" Kyle cried, and Sherry licked the air with gusto. He reached down to his girlfriend's crotch to moisten his hand and held it in front of her face. She attacked it desperately, her passions inflamed even further by the tangy taste of her own juices in her mouth. Kyle lost his balance and had to put his hand down on the bed, but Sherry ran her hand up her soaked inner thigh, then feverishly swirled her tongue in and around the imitation cunny formed by the slit between her own wet fingers. Sherry could feel her climax rushing forward as her boyfriend's sweaty skin slapped repeatedly against her bare ass, forcing his cock deep inside her again and again. "Is she coming?" he practically yelled. "Yesss!" she hissed in reply, her tongue still dancing, her eyes still closed, her imagination and senses combining to overwhelm her with the simulation of a beautiful girl's burning pussy on her mouth while her boyfriend pumped her from behind. The sensation of Kyle's cum gushing deep within her pushed her over the edge. Sherry cried out, and she could swear she heard another girl's voice join hers in ecstatic harmony. When the room stopped spinning, she opened her eyes and realized that it was just her and Kyle collapsed in a sweaty pile on his bed. Yet somehow, her mindset had changed completely. "Happy anniversary," he whispered. "You brat," she said playfully, and turned to show him her appreciation. Butterfly Ch. 06 Chapter 6: Sherry’s Diary: The Vecino Surprise Dear Diary, Nope, I’m not writing to Jen this time. Maybe I won’t need to pretend any more at all, because my wishes came true last night– sort of. Me and Kyle have been role-playing and talking dirty while fooling around ever since last month when he brought up the notorious JRG. I was satisfied just biding my time, but honestly, the games were starting to get a little old. Then Dave at work mentioned that he needed someone to check on his beach house on Vecino Island. He said he always secured it before the spring break crowd arrived (it sounded like he was getting ready for a hurricane), but this year he hadn’t had time. Being a kind and considerate team player, I volunteered to check on it all weekend. So last Friday, Kyle and I wrapped up our work responsibilities right after lunch and headed on out. I guess Dave misjudged when spring break began. Convoys of road-tripping college students slowed our pace to a crawl about a mile before the Vecino Bridge. People in Ohio must really love Florida because there were OSU stickers and Ohio license plates all around us. The extra traffic only delayed us for about half an hour, tho, and we soon pulled up to Dave’s vacation house. Actually, it’s more like a guest house. A smart real estate agent would call it “cozy.” But an open floorplan and a casual ocean-themed décor gives it a very comfortable feel. The fact that the screened porch out back opens directly on the sandy beach is another big plus. After we settled in, we lounged on the porch and enjoyed the seabreeze. I love the place. The main road was still full of incoming spring breakers, so we walked to a nearby clam shack for dinner. The grouper sandwich was greasy and great. Kyle raised his eyebrows significantly at me when he ordered the oyster platter. We made it back just in time for sunset and watched the orange and purple glow fade while sitting out on the sand. I guess the oyster effect kicks in after dark because Kyle was all over me as soon as the screen door closed behind us. We hadn’t turned on any lights in the house, so no one saw us strip off each other’s clothes outside on the porch. I laid back on the lounge chair while Kyle pumped energetically between my knees. We fucked to the faint but steady rhythm of loud music coming from the crowded clubs on the other side of the island. I noticed dim figures on the beach and wickedly wondered what they would think if they knew the only thing between them and a naked orgasmic woman was 100 yards and thin mosquito netting. There are few things more relaxing than waking up only when you’re ready to wake up. That’s exactly what we did yesterday (Saturday) morning. We got up real late and leisurely ate our cereal and milk out on the porch while watching the long morning shadows shrink across the sparkling sand. Kyle insisted that we wait an hour after eating before heading out for a swim (damn those old wives tales!). I paid him back by showing him the swimsuit I was going to put on – the teeny micro-g. He blanched at the sight, but I told him that I paid too much for the little thing to never wear it. I went into the old Scarlett O’Hara routine and asked him if he was scared “some young beau will sweep me away,” to which he replied Rhett-like that he was more afraid I’d “sweep some young lady off her feet and cause a terrific scandal.” We’re so funny. Anyway, I pretended to compromise and agreed to wear the micro-top with board shorts instead of the g-string bottoms. I really hadn’t planned on wearing that butt floss on the beach but just wanted to see his reaction. I asked him whatever happened to his micro-g. He just frowned and pulled his old swim trunks from the traveling bag. After all my bluster, though, one look in the mirror almost made me change my mind about my daring fashion selection. My breasts spilled out on both sides of the narrow triangular cups, giving me the impression of band-aids stuck on hot air balloons. I had to adjust myself and the cotton just right so that nothing (too) improper was showing – my C-cups never seemed so big. But I gathered the courage to exit the bathroom and ignored Kyle’s wanton stares as I nonchalantly applied sunscreen. I didn’t feel as brave once I got outside, so I ran straight for the surf and hopped in. The weather has been so warm that it’s easy to forget it’s only March, but the cool Gulf water reminded me very quickly. We splashed around for a few minutes but couldn’t stay in for long. By this time I had gotten more used to my choice of clothing, so we walked up the beach to let the sun dry us off. The crowd thickened the closer we got to the big touristy hotels on the north end of the island and I began to feel more self-conscious about my top. Packs of college guys stared right at my boobs without even trying to pretend they weren’t. I didn’t get too offended because I couldn’t help staring back at them and at all the hot college chicas laying around soaking up the sun. Most of them seemed to be the shallow frat & sorority types I had always avoided back at UCF, but they were certainly very nice to look at. A lot of the girls wore some kind of thong bottoms, but I didn’t see any other tops as skimpy as mine. For no apparent reason, I suddenly felt old among all the carefree college kids, which is silly since I’m only 4 years out of school myself. But I consoled myself by noting that my body is still alluring enough to attract plenty of lustful looks even though I’m an “old lady” of 25. After quickly cooling off in the water again, we found a crowded tiki-bar and went in for a bite to eat. The service was slow and the food lousy, but I found ways to have fun anyway. There was a mirror on the wall behind Kyle at our booth. I had my back to the restaurant but kept a roving eye on the mirror to watch the bronzing beauties coming and going behind me. After a while, I saw in the reflection that my top had shifted and the left side of my left aureole was barely peeking out. Instead of fixing it, I casually bumped my left strap to let it out a little more. Happily, Kyle was paying attention to me along with the college girls because he immediately let me know about it. I simply smiled and bit into another french fry. I spent the whole meal with my top askew and was actually a little disappointed that no one else had noticed. So as we got up to leave, I yanked the strap a little harder. That seemed to get more people’s attention. Some poor guy actually did the classic spit take with his beer when he saw me coming. I pretended not to notice but casually looked down to see how much was showing. I would have spit out my drink myself if I had one because the little bud of my nipple was sticking out – and rock hard besides. The last few steps to the door seemed to take forever, but the looks I got along the way were priceless. I quickly readjusted myself before the cop checking IDs outside noticed anything amiss. Once we were out of there, Kyle asked me if I was in “that mood” again. I just flashed him both nipples real quick and ran on ahead down the beach. We jogged and laughed most of the way back to the house, my boobs jiggling enough to make the JRG blush. I told him I wanted to get back in the water and hushed him before he could quote the one-hour rule again. “Fuck the old wives!” I complained. “They’d probably like that!” he shot back. Did I mention we’re hilarious? Before we hopped into the surf, we stopped by the beach house to apply more sunscreen and grab some towels. I took the opportunity to slip into the bathroom, slip out of my board shorts, and slip on the micro-g bottoms. They’re so small it took me a minute to figure out where to put my legs. Even when they were on right, I wasn’t quite sure. It looked liked someone had given me a wedgie from the back, but if I pulled the front panel higher, the between-the-legs strap sank obscenely into my slit. With a little adjustment (and some careful trimming), everything was as proper as it was going to get. Determined not to chicken out, I wrapped a towel around my waist and quickly headed out. Kyle had been waiting on the porch. We both ran for the surf and dropped our towels just short of the water line. I was very surprised to see he had changed into his micro-g, too. “When in Rome…” he said. With such easy access, we started grabbing at each other right away. A little nudge here and there and we were fucking underwater. The water would have come up to around my chest if I was standing straight, but I squatted slightly and floated into a sexual position that’s impossible in the air. Having the salt water flow in and out along with Kyle’s cock was a very unique sensation. Feeling the sun on my face and watching people hanging out around a shell’s throw away while having sex was also pretty exhilarating. We were careful not to splash around too much and didn’t attract attention, but Kyle still seemed uptight and never got really hard. I came anyway, of course. The chilly water finally cooled my engines, too. I forgot how little my bikini was until I emerged from the waves and a dirty old man on a folding chair gawked as rudely as any of the college boys. Everything seemed to be as covered as possible, so I smiled weakly at the old coot and wrapped myself in my towel. When we got back to the house, Kyle wanted to take his usual afternoon vacation nap. I wasn’t tired, so he toddled off to bed while I went “shopping.” Actually, I wasn’t looking for clothes; I was looking for a sign I’d seen advertising the infamous “Brazilian Wax.” I found the little spa in a shopping plaza a few blocks down the road. Turns out I was lucky. The place was booked all week, but the appointment they were expecting hadn’t shown up and they told me to come on back and strip from the waist down. The middle-aged Hispanic attendant gave me some options, and I asked for the completely bald treatment so I could wear my micro-g with confidence. She bent my legs back and examined my crotch with all the eroticism of a master chef examining a raw turkey, then got to work without much small talk. I’d heard the all-over waxing job hurts like hell. It does, but only for a second. It’s actually less painful than that Epilady I tried once. After she riiiiped off the wax a few times and plucked out the stray hairs, I was a little sore but good to go. Before going back to the house, I browsed through the rest of the shopping area. I bought some food to cook for dinner and a sexy new outfit to cook after dinner. My skin still tingled under my panties and I felt very clean and very dirty at the same time. The aroma of homemade spaghetti sauce got Kyle out of bed. He liked dinner almost as much as he liked my new outfit: a real cute sleeveless bright floral sundress with thin shoulder straps. Well, it’s not exactly a sundress because the top half is stretchy and hugs every curve of my body. But the lower part is loose and flowing like your typical sundress from the hips down. It’s pretty short, ending a lot closer to my waist than to my knees. As we spiffied up for the evening, the only articles of clothing I wore with my new dress were my micro-g string bottoms and a pair of sandals. Kyle wore a pair of casual shorts and an old tropical-print shirt that he left open to show off his tone and smooth chest & abs and customary perfect tan (freakin’ personal trainers! :) We both wanted to hang out somewhere away from the huge college crowds, and that meant leaving the island. I hinted that I’d like to go back to Beach Bunnies and see if Maria was still working there, but my hopes were crushed as soon as we looked outside. The traffic on the main road was at a complete standstill in both directions. I guess the really big flock of spring-breakers had flown in during the day. So we decided “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” and walked north along the beach towards party central. The seabreeze had kicked up and the salty air felt exhilarating blowing against my baaaare skin under my short skirt. I was getting moist already, but wandering into a few clubs turned me off a little. The bars were all full of sloppy drunk students desperately pretending they were having the time of their lives. Most of the gals and guys were attractive, but superficially so, like they were trying way too hard to get laid. (It reminded me of the joke about the sorority sisters’ mating call: “I am soooo drunk.”) We went from club to club sipping a few overpriced watered-down beers and making rude remarks about the people around us. I saw a sign for a wet t-shirt contest at a place called “Tooters” and pulled Kyle towards the door, telling him it was as close as I was going to get to seeing some female flesh that night. (But I was wrong!) The inside of the bar had all the charm of a warehouse. A rowdy mob had already gathered in front of a raised stage near the back. Of course, most were guys. Their obnoxious behavior and bright red faces made it obvious that they’d tossed down more than a few Buds. A few girls were there, too, mostly standing next to their boyfriends looking annoyed. Tooters’ employees circled around repeatedly asking them (and me) to sign up for the contest. I had no desire to entertain this bunch and refused, but a few others volunteered when they heard about the $300 first prize. The expressions of mixed excitement and horror on their dates’ faces were pretty funny. We worked our way to the side of the room where the crowd was thinner but we still had a good view of the stage. I noticed a couple of college-aged girls standing beside us waiting patiently. One was a curvy blonde with flowing shoulder-length hair wearing a two-piece pink outfit right out of an Austin Powers movie. Her top was not much more than a bra tied in the middle of her chest with long sleeves ending in wide ruffles. Her bottoms were low-cut pink hotpants, and she completed the theme with a pair of white go-go boots. Her lower torso and most of her long legs were uncovered and tanned and very nice to look at. Her companion seemed about as different as she could get. She was pale and petite with very short dark purple hair. She wore a men’s tank undershirt with black suspenders and long black slacks. Her nipples made little bumps on the thin white undershirt, but she didn’t really need a bra because her breasts were about the smallest A-cups I’ve seen on a grown woman. Something about her looked vaguely familiar. I pointed her out to Kyle and asked if he recognized her, but he just made some smartass remark about being happy to meet Heather Graham. Before I could tell him I wasn’t talking about the blonde, the music cranked up, the crowd roared, and the show began. The first contestant was an average-looking brunette who came out wearing jean shorts and a white Tooter’s t-shirt. She seemed very nervous when they poured pitchers of icy water over her chest, and she stiffly danced at the back of the stage with her shirt sticking weakly to her skin. It didn’t help that a bunch of drunks right in front began chanting “Show us your tits!” She lifted her shirt really quickly to their delight, but the cheers turned to boos when they realized she wouldn’t do it again. She left to a chorus of yelled insults. Though the idea of watching girls expose themselves had sounded good, the actual event wasn’t much fun, and I began to get the same uncomfortable feeling I’d felt among the testosterone-crazed mob at Beach Bunnies. Looking around, I noticed that the purple-haired girl was looking at me as if she was thinking about something. A light seemed to go off in her head and she came over with a wry smile. Leaning into my ear so I could hear over the noise, she asked me if I was having fun and wondered why I wasn’t in the show because “I know you like to give one.” I had no idea what she was talking about. When she said something about a “baked potato”, though, I instantly remembered where I’d seen her before. She was the girl from Wendy’s whom I had flashed in the car with Kyle’s cum dripping off my chin. She looked older out of her fast food uniform and her dyed hair had thrown me off, but that impish grin and those piercing green eyes were unmistakable. I stared unseeingly at the next contestant on stage as my mind reeled. When I did what I did that night, I certainly never thought I’d see that girl again. But here she was, possibly flirting, and at a wet t-shirt contest, no less. Kyle said something in my ear (probably asking about the girl who had come over) but I couldn’t hear him over the loud hollering that had erupted from the crowd. A new girl onstage had taken off her t-shirt and now spun it over her head. The MC warned her she was breaking the rules while other Tooters’ employees alternately tried to cover her up and push her off stage. The mob didn’t appreciate losing their view of her fine titties and began to get really ugly. “This is lame,” shouted the purple-haired girl. She said something to her companion and left, leaving her blonde friend still watching the show. I had to go after her. I asked Kyle if we could leave and he agreed (what a nice guy!). As I’d hoped, the girl was waiting outside. Before I could say a word, she mentioned a “killer underground club” around the corner and started leading the way. As we followed, Kyle asked me if I knew her. I just said “Wendy’s baked potato” and let him figure it out for himself. She led us down a side street to an old building with no sign on the door. Loud house music thumped inside, rattling the painted-over windows. Kyle was behind us and got stuck with three cover charges. The nameless place was a little creepy. It was lit almost entirely with black lights and neon and the patrons were mostly goths. I bumped into a couple in the dimness – they were hard to see dressed all in black. But the Wendy’s chick held on to my hand and guided me to a slightly brighter side room in which a few alternative types lounged around on ratty old furniture smoking odd-smelling cigarettes. While I was still looking around and getting me bearings, she suddenly turned, told me she’d been “dreaming of doing this for a long time”, and kissed me right on the mouth. It wasn’t a little peck, either; she really went at it. I stood in shock for only a second before returning the unexpected affection. I put my arms around her as I opened my mouth and our tongues danced. She reached under my dress and, apparently encouraged by my barely-there undies, fondled my ass cheeks lovingly. Her body was so warm and delicate and her taste so sweet that I thought I would die (it would have been a great way to go out!). When she nibbled on my upper lip, I got dizzy and we fell onto a ratty sofa nearby giggling like schoolgirls. It was an absolutely amazing first kiss, but we cuddled close together and tried to do even better. As we continued to make out, I stretched out my leg beside her on the sofa. She gently brushed just the very tips of her fingers on my knee, then slooowly inched them up the outside of my thigh. I hoped she wouldn’t stop at my hemline and she didn’t disappoint. Once she’d wormed under my dress all the way up to my hip, she tickled her way along the front waistband of my little panties. I urged her on with some heated tongue sucking and she moved her hand maddeningly slowly down the inside of my thigh towards my crotch. I’d never been as hot and bothered as I was when she slowly but firmly tugged at the front panel of my g-string until it stretched thin and dug into my slit. With one sudden motion, she flicked my little panties out of the way and shoved two fingers into my burning cunny, immediately hitting a sensitive spot deep inside I never knew I had. I quivered with pleasure, but she held on tight and continued to rub me in just the right way. Her fingers were smaller than Kyle’s or mine but strong and agile, and she obviously knew what she was doing. Butterfly Ch. 06 After only a couple of magical minutes, I squealed into her short hair and came like I’ve never come before. Another thing I’d never done before is squirt, but this time I drenched the sofa cushion and the leg of her pants. I sat back to catch my breath, not quite believing that after years of dreaming, my first real experience with a girl had just come out of nowhere (pardon the pun). I couldn’t even remember my new lover’s name. As I stared blissfully, she grinned and wiped her wet fingers on her tank top, saying she wanted the scent of my pussy all over. I panicked a little when I remembered we were in a semi-public place, but one look around told me I had nothing to fear. The room was apparently a stoner’s hangout because everybody seemed too out of it to notice much of anything. The one exception was Kyle. I guess he had wandered in while we were busy and now sat along the far wall flipping through an old magazine. I hadn’t thought about how he’d react – I hadn’t been thinking about anything, really. I felt a little embarrassed knowing that he’d seen me with another girl, but it also made me feel naughty in a horny kinda way. I had gotten a sample of what I’d wanted and it wasn’t enough. I told the girl I wanted to go somewhere more private. She grinned again and agreed. Kyle stood up when he saw me coming over. He kissed me roughly and I got the impression he was trying to reclaim his property. That was very unlike him so I pushed away, maybe a little too rudely. I told him I was going back to the house and left, unsure if he’d follow. He did, but I could tell his feelings were wounded as the three of us started walking along the beach. In the awkward silence, I finally remembered to ask the girl for her name. She said it was Crystal, “but everybody calls me Crissy.” I introduced myself and Kyle, who still preferred sulking to conversation. Crissy kept me in a horny mood by flipping up my dress and making lewd comments about my butt even though there were lots of people around. Once she even held up my skirt and asked a group of nearby sorority chicks if they’d ever seen such a “great ass”, spanking my bare butt cheek for emphasis. I slapped her hand away and blushed, but between the bimbos’ shocked silence and Crissy’s infectiously mischievous grin, I couldn’t keep from laughing. As soon as we left behind the big hotels for the more secluded part of the beach, her hand was constantly under my dress. She tugged at my butt floss, asking me in a naughty whisper to take off my panties. When I didn’t do so immediately, she tried to persuade me by caressing the newly smooth skin just behind my slit. After a few more steps, I gave in and slipped off my g-string, tying it around my bicep as that stripper had done before my lap dance. Grinning with delight, Crissy peeled off her tank top and dropped it on the sand, saying it was “only fair.” Crissy gave me another tongue-filled kiss, pressing her bare flat chest against me while groping my ass with both hands. Then she adjusted her narrow suspenders so that they covered her nipples and we continued up the beach, our pace quickening with anticipation. (Kyle hadn’t stopped and was already way ahead of us.) As we walked side by side, she wordlessly reached under my dress and placed her hand on my pussy, slipping her middle finger just inside and lightly massaging, exposing most of my thighs as we walked along the waterline in eager silence. Loud voices broke my blissful trance. I looked up to see what looked like a dozen or so teenage guys and girls up ahead along the shoreline. They were too far away and too preoccupied with their conversation to notice us yet, but they were walking right for us. I tugged at Crissy’s wrist, trying to cover myself before they got any closer, but she firmly kept her hand where it was. Watching the group approach, I pulled at her hand harder. Crissy realized I was going to win the tug of war so she broke my resistance another way. She yanked up the front of my skirt with her other hand and fingering me so relentlessly that I cried out loud, feeling like electricity was flooding my body from her magic fingers, unable to even walk. Meanwhile, the pack of "kids" approached. As they got within a few feet, I realized that they were college-age after all, so I stopped worrying about contributing the deliquency of minors. But their greater maturity didn't prevent them from being shocked at what they saw. Their loud conversation petered out to silence as, one by one, they each saw that the front of my body was completely uncovered from my ankles to right below my belly button in the moonlight. Crissy went a step further and held open my pussy lips for their inspection with her thumb and middle finger, her index finger insistently playing with my rock-hard clit and her hand out of the way so that they could see it all. I felt incredibly wicked watching their reactions, especially when I saw that many of them wore "Baptist Student Union" t-shirts and realized that they must be from a church group. Some of them were obviously embarrassed and quickly averted their eyes while continuing down the beach, but most slowed to get a good look. Some gasped, mouths hanging open. Some broke into sly grins, and a female voice said “Damn!”, much to my later amusement. And as they watched, Crissy plunged two fingers into my exposed pussy right up to her knuckles, almost making me fall down with pleasure. A couple of them stopped dead at that. I especially enjoyed watching a cute chick’s hand swing down almost unconsciously to rest on the crotch of her jeans, and I could guess the warm rush she felt between her thighs. But someone behind her was too focused on my pussy to notice that she had paused and stumbled into her, breaking the spell and getting the whole group moving again. After what seemed like hours, they slowly inched past. As soon as they were all behind us, Crissy laughed and ran on ahead, hollering “Show me your tits!” at either me or the church chicks (or maybe all of the above) and practiced as she preached, flipping off her suspenders to finish revealing her boyish torso. My brain suddenly regained control of my body and, with a quick glance back at the still-watching church group members, I slipped my dress straps off my shoulders and sprinted after Crissy. To my disappintment, the front slid down only a little before the tight elastic got caught midway down the rise of my breasts. Crissy saw this and stopped. When I reached her, she yanked down the front of my dress with both hands to pop my breasts out and expose them to the night, playfully pinched my nipples, then dashed off again before I could react. The house was already in sight (and Kyle was already inside), so I just kept running, letting my boobs bounce freely in the cool sea air. Crissy waited for my by the back door while I breathlessly slowed to a jog, staring at my bare jiggling tits and covering her mouth with a look of mock astonishment. As soon as I came closer, she attacked my heaving chest, suckling one tit and then the other like a ravenous newborn, making me lean against the screen to keep from falling over. She squeezed and mouthed my nipples until they got too sensitive and I had to unwillingly nudge her away. She straightened up for a moment and grinned while she unbuttoned her fly and let her slacks fall to her ankles, then dropped to her bare knees on the sand between my feet. I tensed with anticipation as she flipped up my short skirt, then finally felt another girl’s mouth on my yearning pussy. She did not disappoint. Crissy was so good that I could swear there was more than just one tongue massaging my smooth labia and tickling my clit and lapping my flowing juices. I pressed her head into my crotch and she pulled my ass towards her face to let her lick deeper and deeper inside me. My crotch felt as smooth as her soft face; I’m very happy I splurged on the radical wax job! Somehow I noticed the neighbor’s porch light switch on. Before anyone came outside, I opened the screen door and dragged Crissy into the porch, her head wedged between my thighs and her slacks around her feet. I laid on the porch floor and spread my legs wide to let her continue her assault on my pussy while the neighbors chatted, unaware of our presence. It was fun, but my back soon let me know that a rough concrete floor is no place for sex. I motioned towards the sliding glass door to the living room and she nodded. Not wanting the neighbors to see us, we crawled inside on our hands and knees, somehow stifling our giggles until she closed the door behind her. In seconds, we had each shimmied out of our remaining clothes and tangled our nude bodies into a writhing pretzel on the plush carpet. After a few minutes, she did something so unexpectedly erotic that it blew my mind. She spread my legs, settled between them in a typical missionary position, and placed her fist just above her slit with two fingers pointed at my pussy like a little dick and her wrist resting against her clit. Then she thrusted her body forward and simulated fucking me with her fingers. Only instead of a using them like a straight cock, she bent them up to rub my new favorite spot inside my pussy every time she pulled out. As she fucked me, I watched the teeny mounds of her breasts cast very small shadows across her skinny torso from the kitchen light behind us. Her tits were so little they barely bounced even though she was banging into me pretty hard. Although she looks very different than the curvy females I thought I preferred, Crissy’s startling androgyny and blatant sexuality make her hot in her own unique way. Crissy must have sensed I was about to come and dove down to suck my clit. Her finger and mouth working together were too much, and I came and came and squirted and squirted again, feeling like my entire body was electrified, overwhelmed by the incredible waves of pleasure coming from between my thighs. Next thing I knew, Crissy was kissing her way up my belly to my breasts. She suckled each one lovingly and then moved up to give me a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. Her face was wet and I tasted my fresh girl juice on her lips. She didn’t stop there. Crissy kept sliding past me, letting me nibble the little pebbles of her nipples poking out from her flat chest, then on to her pierced belly button. I knew what was next, and my heart pounded with anticipation. Crissy placed her knees on either side of my head, settling her crotch a few inches above my face. “Are you my cunt licker?” she asked. I said “yeah”, but I guess I wasn’t convincing enough because she asked me to say it loud. “Yes!” I practically yelled, wanting to taste her sooo bad. “Yes what?” she teased again. “Yes, I’m your cuntlicker!” I screamed, and almost before the word escaped my lips, she spread her thighs a little more and dropped her pussy right onto my open mouth. It was wonderful. She tasted tangy and salty and sweet and her cunny was warm and soft and luscious. Since I have zero experience, I didn’t know exactly what to do, so I dug my tongue into her slit and nibbled on her clit and just tried to take as much of her pussy into my mouth as I could. Crissy moaned and started humping my face a little so I guess I was doing OK. My own pussy screamed for attention and so I began to finger myself with one hand while pushing Crissy’s bony ass down towards my face with the other. She really started humping hard and I realized she was trying to get off by rubbing her clit against my tongue. I stuck it out like a little dick and let Crissy do most of the work, concentrating on bringing myself off again. When she started gasping and mumbling “lick my cunt…eat my cunt…” I started moving my tongue around wildly inside and out of her pretty cunny. Pretty soon, she froze and cried out as a small flood of her tangy pussy juice trickled out of her slit and slid down my tongue. With only another few strokes of my fingers, I came as well, muffling my scream in my new lover’s hot wet cunt. We both lay there; breathless, my face in her crotch and my fingers in my pussy, until Crissy said “hi there” to someone and rolled off of me. I had forgotten about Kyle, but there he stood by the bedroom door with an expression I couldn’t decipher. I was unexpectedly self-conscious about him seeing me like that and sat up and crossed my legs. After a few uncomfortable seconds, he asked me if I wanted him to leave. I didn’t know what to say, but Crissy jumped right in, asking him real coyly “Don’t you like watching naked girls?” I would have never guessed his reaction; he told her to “fuck off.” I realized right then that he was jealous. Part of me was pissed off since he knew I’d been dreaming of this for a long time, but part of me hated to see him so upset. Kyle and I might have been confused and flustered, but Crissy was still a horny little bitch. Pretending his insult was a command, she climbed onto the sofa, spread her skinny legs wide, picked up a thin bottle of tanning oil I’d left on the side table, and started to slide it in and out of her pussy. She asked Kyle earnestly if she was “fucking off good enough for you” and he looked at her like she was completely insane. I knew the sight was turning him on, though, because a tent was rising at the front of his shorts. Crissy saw it, too, and was bold enough to say something about it, sweet-talking that she’d seen his “big cock” before and that she’d “really like to see it again.” As she continued to shamelessly dildo herself right in front of us, she described that night at Wendy’s from her perspective. She said that she’d volunteered to take our food to the car because the drive-thru girl had mentioned that the customers were “half naked”, that she’d seen and heard me getting off while she approached the car, that she loved it when I unfolded my arms to expose my tits and when Kyle’s “stiffy” popped out of his boxers, and that me letting her watch his cum drip off my chin to my bare chest was the most “daring” thing she’d ever seen. She said that she’d gone to the bathroom to masturbate after we left and that she’d always regretted not jumping into the car with us. The way she told her story – matter-of-factly while jamming a plastic bottle into her slit, pausing once in a while to gasp – got my juices flowing again. So when she begged us to “reenact” the scene, I was more than willing. Besides, I wanted to give Kyle some attention, too. I crawled over to him with a sly smile, Crissy egging me on. He didn’t approach me but he didn’t back up, either. I reached up and pulled him to me by the bulge in his shorts. He looked like he’d either slap me or throw me down and fuck me, and either one was ok with me at the time. But since he did neither, I undid his shorts and pulled out his very hard erection, bringing a slightly exaggerated “oooo” from Crissy behind me. I slowly took his cock into my open mouth while looking him lovingly in the eye and he groaned. I knew I had him. Without letting his shaft escape from my mouth, I lowered his shorts until he stepped out of them. Crissy whined that she wanted to see, so I shuffled backwards (and Kyle followed) until we were directly in front of her, my back leaning against her right foot and the back of his knee brushing against her left. Feeling her eyes on me, I purposely put on as slutty a performance as I could, letting his cock pop all the way out of my mouth to lick the tip and then noisily slurping it back in. She responded my making wet noises with the bottle in her cunt, then nimbly bent forward so her face was only inches from mine. Soon, she let out a lusty “fuck yeah!” as she made herself come. I had a few guesses about what Crissy would do next, but what she actually did was a complete surprise. In one quick motion, she squatted on the floor between us, grabbed Kyle’s cock with one hand, and forced the slick bottle into my cunny with the other. Then she started dildo-ing me and jacking off Kyle to the same brisk rhythm, saying she wanted me to come with his “cum on your face”. Her comment helped push me over the edge ahead of schedule and I squeezed my thighs around the bottle, crying out incoherently. She left it in my pussy and moved behind Kyle, turning him to face the sofa and nudging me to turn as well. I sat on the carpet leaning back against the plush cushions, slowly turning the bottle still wedged inside me. Kyle stood over me while Crissy jacked him off from behind, his dick over my chest aimed at my face like a hose. I’ve never seen his eyes so glazed over with pure lust. Crissy mumbled dirty encouragement to him about cumming in “that slut’s mouth” and I saw her other hand appear between his muscular thighs to massage his fuzzy balls. I hungrily leaned a little closer, watching his deep red cockhead appear and disappear into her little fist. I was so aroused, I actually trembled. With a groan, I saw his cum finally spurt from the tiny slit in his cock and felt the gooey warm glob land on my neck. Crissy pushed him closer and the next burst hit a little high of her target, splattering on my cheeks and across the bridge of my nose. As the stream turned into a warm milky dribble, she rubbed his softening dick over my lips, teasing me by jerking it away when I tried to take it into my mouth. Kyle pulled away and sagged to the carpet exhausted and, if know him, more than a little embarrassed. Crissy grinned at me devilishly, reminding me to shake my head so that drops of sperm fell from my face and spattered all over my sweaty breasts. She pounced on me, kissing Kyle’s cum off my chest, then nibbling it off of my neck, then off my face, finally sharing the last bit of sticky goo with a tongue-wrestling kiss. Without warning, she broke off the kiss and threw herself onto her back with her legs in the air. She viciously finger-fucked herself, even stretching out her leg to slip her big toe into my slit. It was different and kinda uncomfortable, but she stopped “toeing” me when she came a minute or two later. Afterwards, she just lay there trying to recover, her flat chest heaving and her skinny legs sprawled licentiously all over the place. Kyle had sat cross-legged on the floor and his dick stood tall and proud again after watching Crissy’s performance. I was ready and willing to play some more, maybe after a glass of Gatorade. But Crissy sprang up with an “oh shit!” when she noticed the clock on the VCR. She said she had to meet her roommate (the blonde from the club, I guess) in 15 minutes or she’d be left behind. (I didn’t think that sounded like such a bad thing.) She explained that they were USF students and that they had only come to Vecino for the evening. She looked positively desperate yanking on her slacks. I asked her if she wanted a drink to go or something and she said she’d rather borrow a t-shirt since she’d left hers on the beach. It was as if she was suddenly a different person. But when Kyle left to get an old shirt, Crissy slowed down and gave me a big kiss, rubbing her clothed leg against my still-naked crotch for a moment and getting the expected warm response. She said the evening had been fantastic and asked for my phone number. I was more comfortable giving her my email address so that’s what I gave her instead. As soon as Kyle returned, she slipped on the shirt he handed her and exited through the sliding glass door. As I heard the screen door slam, I felt a little cheap and used. But when Kyle hugged me from behind and I felt his burning hot shaft poke my back, I recalled how hot and bothered I’d been just a few minutes before. Without a word, he bent me over and we fucked doggie-style in the middle of the room. It was hot, but I think Kyle sensed that I missed Crissy already. Afterwards, we went to bed without saying much at all. Butterfly Ch. 06 The ride home today with Kyle was unusually quiet and he dropped me off at my apartment with only a little peck on the cheek. My little fling last night has obviously made things a little “weird” between us. It was fun role-playing with him about other girls before, but maybe he thought I’d never really do it. To be honest, it’s still hard for me to believe. I hope we can work this out. Or do I? I still love Kyle (I think) and I still lust for Jen (I know) and I really want to see Crissy again (I really know!), but I’m not sure how to put all the pieces together… Hmmm... Butterfly Ch. 07 Chapter 7: Letters from Crissy Sherry ran a tight ship in her department and was always quick to scold someone who goofed off in the office. But back at work on Monday following her tryst with Crissy, she couldn’t stop herself from repeatedly checking her personal email, hoping each time to see a message from her new “friend.” As the morning dragged on, though, she began to feel used and a little pissed off. Why hadn’t Crissy offered to share *her* phone number or email? The thought that she might have be the victim of a lesbian “wham bam, thank you ma’am” made Sherry feel cheap but frustrated at the same time. It was still hard for Sherry to believe what she’d done Saturday night. She’d never had a one-night stand -- she’d never even kissed on a first date. Yet she’d gotten very kinky with someone she’d just met, someone whose last name she didn’t even know. Sherry reasoned that Crissy had shown up when she was in just the right state of mind to let loose, but wasn’t entirely convinced that there wasn’t something deeper going on. The discomforting notion that she didn’t know herself as well as she thought she did lurked in the back of her mind. Around 10:30, her melancholy musings were dashed by the arrival of an email from “Crissyluv69”. The message was short and to the point: “Have a great day, cuntlicker” was all it said. As soon as she read it, Sherry’s face blushed bright red. She quickly deleted the email even though her office door was closed and she knew for a fact that her company didn’t (yet) monitor internet traffic. More suggestive to obscene messages from Crissy appeared every so often. Sherry worked up the nerve to reply a couple times but she didn’t think she was very good at it (“I wanna eat your pussy for lunch” was as dirty as she could muster.) After work, Sherry called Kyle, hoping he’d come over. But he turned her down, saying he’d agreed to cover an evening shift at the gym and wouldn’t be off until late. The strain between them was obvious and she didn’t know what to do about it. On Tuesday, Sherry didn’t get an email from Crissy until almost noon. Crissy typed that she had taken her digital camera to class at USF that morning and had some fun before coming home. Attached was a picture of her sitting demurely at a desk in a dingy university classroom. She sent another picture a few minutes later, and another in about half an hour, and so on. The pictures showed Crissy in various places around campus wearing modest jeans and a t-shirt and carrying a backpack. They were all innocently boring. By mid-afternoon, Sherry was no longer so anxious to keep up with Crissy’s monotonous on-campus photolog. At one point, three new photos piled up in her inbox before she’d bothered to look. “Great, she’s walking on a sidewalk,” Sherry mumbled to herself, commenting on the first as she immediately deleted it. “Now she’s going into the library. How studious. Now she’s… woah.” The third picture showed Crissy from a few steps behind and below in an enclosed stairwell. Her back was to the camera and both her jeans and panties were pulled down to mid-thigh, her creamy-white bare ass doing a great impression of a petite full moon. Sherry was quicker to open the next email. The attached photo was another rear view of Crissy, this time opening a heavy fire door leading from the stairwell to what looked like a lobby, her panties pulled back up into place but her jeans still down around her knees. Sherry tried to get back to writing her sales proposal but her concentration was way off. The next picture arrived minutes later and showed Crissy slipping out of her jeans while sitting on the dingy carpet between huge stacks of books, a devilish look in her eye. At this point, Sherry gave up on getting any work done and began to compulsively hit the “check for mail” button every few seconds. She didn’t have to wait long. Soon, her monitor displayed a front view of Crissy walking through a wide library study area wearing only her long t-shirt and panties. About a dozen students sat studying at tables with piles of books all around, but nobody seemed to notice Crissy sauntering by looking like she was heading to bed in a skimpy nightshirt. The next email came with two attachments. The first featured a close-up of Crissy’s impish face as she dropped her panties into a garbage can. The second showed her once again walking towards the camera through the same study area. But this time, she was bottomless and subtlety held her shirt up just enough to reveal her slit. All the students in the room were again totally oblivious except for one: an oriental girl behind Crissy who stared wide-eyed at her partially exposed ass. The look of shock on the asian girl’s dainty face was the hottest thing Sherry had seen all day. It wouldn’t hold that record for long. The next pic showed Crissy standing beside an open office door holding her t-shirt up to her neck to boldly flaunt her entire nude body. The college-aged guy inside typed away at his computer unaware that Crissy was flashing her tiny breasts and smooth pussy right around the corner. The sight of that slender figure reminded Sherry how much fun Crissy’s boyish body could be. Crissy was just a creamy-white blur in the next image as she audaciously ran naked across a wide hallway between rows of bookshelves, her t-shirt held high above her head like a battle flag. A couple of students were visible in the background but seemed to have their backs turned. In the next few pics, Crissy’s shirt was gone and she frolicked in narrow aisles between rows of tall bookshelves wearing only her sandals and a smile. She was obviously having a good time coming up with silly poses -- like covering her crotch with a book about cats, or standing next to an oversized book about Greek sculpture and putting her nude body in classical postures. Sherry wondered who had taken the snapshots. She wished she’d been there to snap them herself. Sherry’s workday was winding down when she got the final set of photos. They all came attached to one email. Sherry waited impatiently as the too-slow network connection downloaded them to her monitor. This series featured Crissy sitting proudly naked on a comfy plush chair near a bright window, her pale skin tinted golden in the morning light. It didn’t seem like a very private corner of the library, but the shots closely framed her slender body so it was impossible to tell for sure. In the first pic, Crissy faked coy modesty, covering her flat chest with her arm and her crotch with her other hand, her bare thighs squeezed tightly together. In the second, her thighs relaxed a little so that Sherry could see the middle finger of the hand over her mons bent inward towards her slit. Her other arm dropped low enough that one nipple peeked out. In the third pic, Crissy uncovered her breasts completely and opened her legs a little more, revealing that her fingertip had slipped just inside her aroused pussy lips. From the fourth photo on, Cry’s knee was hooked over the arm of the chair to bathe her hairless cunny in sunlight as she shamelessly fingered herself in public. Sherry’s lusty urges had built up all afternoon and she desperately needed relief. She quietly locked her office door, turned off the overhead light, and pulled her panties and slacks down to her knees before returning to her chair. As she eagerly scrolled through the pictures of her new lover jamming two and then three fingers into her sopping pussy, Sherry feverishly did the same with her own cunt. Many of the shots were taken from right between Crissy’s knees, filling Sherry’s entire screen with the image of Crissy’s fingers and labia and inner thighs glistening wet in the golden sun. Just when Sherry thought she couldn’t get any hotter, the last photo proved her wrong. Crissy had hooked both knees over the arms of the library chair and the camera zoomed in even closer on her juicy pussy, fingers out of the way, with “eat me, cuntlicker” written in red just below her navel. Every wet fold and crevice was clearly visible in the bright light, including the glistening little bud of Crissy’s engorged clit. Sherry obediently lapped her tongue towards the monitor until her rising climax made her close her eyes. It took enormous self-control not to scream aloud when she came, but Sherry bit her lip and squeezed her thighs around her hand and managed to hold back all but a happy whimper. The sound of the copy machine just outside her office broke the spell. Sherry opened her eyes and saw her boss’s back through the narrow window beside her office door, which made her very anxious about the fact that her fingers were still gently massaging the inner walls of her pussy. She closed her email program, pulled up her slacks, and looked around for something to dry her hands with. “Now I know how a teenage boy feels,” she muttered wryly to herself, ineffectively wiping her fingers with a piece of tissue and finally getting the jokes. When her boss left the area, Sherry straightened her clothes as well as she could and headed for the restroom to properly clean up, praying she wouldn’t pass anyone in the hallway. She knew she was in no condition to solve somebody’s problem about a missing shipment or a complicated sales account. Fortunately, she made it into the ladies’ room unnoticed. Sherry also had to pee and became alarmed when she noticed the aroma of her sex wafting through the air. Her worries increased when the bathroom door creaked open and someone came in. When she heard another stall close and lock, Sherry quickly got up to wash her hands, hoping to leave before the other woman came out and saw her. But before she even got to the sink, the door opened again. In walked Trish, the receptionist she had dreamt about months before, carrying a half-empty pot of coffee. To Sherry’s surprise, it was Trish whose face looked guilty. “Don’t tell Mr. Bradley,” she whispered conspiratorially as she poured the coffee into the next sink. “He says coffee eats the pipes and won’t let me pour it down the kitchen drain so I sneak in here.” Sherry’s expression must have begged for more explanation because Trish continued. “He wants me to save the old coffee in water cooler jugs and use it to water the office plants. The guy’s nice, but he’s a little loony.” She punctuated her diagnosis by spinning her finger around her temple in the universal sign for insanity, and Sherry smiled in relief. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” she replied as she turned to leave. “Hey, Sherry; you’ve got something on your hand. What is that; kleenex? Do you have a cold or something?” The color drained from Sherry’s face when she saw a small piece of tissue sticking in a damp spot between her index and middle fingers. “No, I’m fine,” she said too quickly as she rinsed it off. Without another word, she hurried back to her office to make sure her plush chair was dry. Kyle got a pleasant surprise when he arrived home later that afternoon. Sherry had gone over to his apartment and lay waiting in his bed, naked and slowly working herself up to a plateau of repeated gentle orgasms using the same bottle of tanning oil Crissy had used at the beach house. Kyle didn’t say a word when he came in, but silently ripped off his clothes and was on her. The tension they’d felt seemed to whip them up into a sexual frenzy and they humped in wild abandon. This time it was Sherry who led a kinky role play. They’d often pretended that the Jump Rope Girl had joined them, but this time Sherry substituted Jen into their sexual games. When she got really worked up, Sherry even switched roles, pretending that *she* was Jen. As her climax approached, she played both parts simultaneously, crying “Oh Sherry, I love to eat your pussy!” while desperately licking her fingers wet with her own juices and yelling “Fuck Jen! Fuck her good!” to Kyle as he took her from behind. Kyle seemed to really enjoy the idea and banged into her ass violently until clutching her hips and emptying his seed deep inside her. Sherry never mentioned Crissy, but that’s really the part she was playing as she cried out her own name in orgasmic bliss. The wild sex seemed to break the ice. Though things were not quite back to normal, at least they were talking and even joking a little. But when Kyle left to pick up a take-out dinner, Sherry used his computer to type a quick email to Crissy. She thanked her for the pictures but asked her not to do that again since she didn’t think she’d keep her job for long if she spent every day at work looking at homemade porn and masturbating. She explained what she’d done at the office and briefly added a little about the role-playing fun she’d just had with Kyle. She’d just hit the “send mail” button when Kyle got back home bearing little Chinese food boxes. After filling up on some curry chicken, Sherry let Kyle fill her up again with something else. When she got home, Sherry was very happy to see that Crissy had already written back. Crissy thought the fact that Sherry had masturbated at work was “hot as shit” and wanted to know more about Jen and the JRG. Sherry started to write a short answer and just couldn’t stop. She sat at her keyboard for hours confessing every sexual dream and hang-up she’d ever had, including her unrequited lust for Jen and the amazing release she’d felt last weekend at Vecino Beach. When she finally hit the send button at 3AM, Sherry felt like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She also felt horny and fingered herself while scrolling through Crissy’s sexy library pictures one more time before going to bed. The alarm clock buzzed all too soon the next morning. While showering (and cursing the soap for not filling her with energy like it did in the commercials), Sherry remembered the email she’d written during the night and had sudden misgivings. She hardly knew Crissy at all, yet she had shared secrets that she’d never told anyone before, ever. In the light of day, it seemed like a very foolish thing to do. Crissy didn’t know much personal information about Sherry – she only knew her 1st name and her email address, actually. That was comforting, but not very, and Sherry wondered why someone who was practically a stranger affected her so. At work, Sherry refrained from checking her email. It wasn’t too hard since she’d wasted most of the previous afternoon and still had to prepare for a morning staff meeting and customer visits later in the day. But as soon as she got home that evening, she plopped in front of her computer and looked for Crissy’s response. It wasn’t what she’d expected. Instead of more pictures or another short obscene note, Crissy had written a long email about her own sexual past: To: Sherry@xxxxx.com From: Crissy@xxxxx.com Your story was really hot. I didn’t know you had it in you. We’re more alike than I thought. Maybe I’d be more like you if I grew up in a family like yours. My parents divorced right after I was born and my mother is a waitress and usually worked 2 jobs. My brother is almost 10 years older so we’re not close at all. After he had another fight with mom and finally moved out, I was home by myself a lot and had time to experiment. I've always preferred girls, but I didn't accept my feelings until high school. By then, I'd hear other girls talking about and drooling over some jock while I fantasized and drooled over them. But it was frustrating because most of the hot popular girls were complete bitches. I guess they sensed something different about me because they hated me and attacked in packs like hyenas. I went out with guys just because it was the thing to do and got the reputation of a girl who teased but wouldn’t put out. That didn’t make me very popular but I didn’t give a shit. It was fun to lead them on and then tell them to go fuck off. So by my senior year, I hung out with a group of 4 friends a lot. We called outselves the Furious Five. People thought we were a gang or something but we just stuck together cuz we understood each other. But the group broke apart bit by bit. It started when me and Vicki were hanging out alone at her house after school. We were supposed to do some retarded self-history project and she had dug out a lot of her old toys. We got bored and broke out some of her parent's liquor to make it more fun. She had more to drink than me and started playing with her dolls, then got me to join her playing “mommy and daddy.” We were giggling like mad when she yanked me over to give me a kiss. My pussy got soaked in seconds and then it really got good. We spent the rest of the afternoon in her bedroom, stripping down to our underwear and kissing and cuddling and rubbing our bodies together. My hand slipped into her panties and her hand slipped into mine, and we made each other come over and over. Vicki was so willing and so fantastic. While we were doing it, it felt so natural and so good. But afterwards, she was really scared that someone would find out. The next day, Vicki wouldn’t talk to me. Her and another chick from our group acted really cold to me after that. I guess Vicki told her and she freaked out, too. A few weeks later, Vicki had a party at her house. Lots of people I didn't know were going since Vicki's parents were loaded and had a big house with a pool. (She was always the most popular chick in the Furious 5.) I wasn't technically invited, but I went anyway. Half our high school seemed to be on her deck when somebody suggested we have a dance contest, so Vicki and a few chicks and guys did some tame dancing around to awful music. I was pissed that Vicki had been ignoring me all night and I wanted to show her up. So I jumped into the pool, then got out dripping and danced as sexy as I could in my bikini. I ignored the boys hooting – I made it obvious I was trying to be sexy for Vicki. To top it off, I bent over in front of her, pulled my bottoms down to mid-thigh, and waved my bare ass in her face. Everybody went nuts and Vicky turned bright red and stormed inside. Then her mom came out yelling at me, I yelled back that Vicki was a stupid lesbian bitch or something like that, and I left. So there went that "friend". Rumors were starting about me anyway, so I went along and started playing the part of the dyke, cutting my hair real short and hanging out with the skaters and burnouts and ravers. I fooled around some with a few other chicks but I think they only played “les” because it made them feel ”alternative”. Even some of my sk8r-grrrl friends sighed when they talked about some dumb-ass boy band. Another thing that really pissed me off in high school was that everyone else seemed to have gotten nice tits while I was the most flat-chested girl in school. One cheerleader bitch who I really hated called me “Skimboard” in front of all of her friends and everybody started doing it. At first it pissed me off, but I almost liked it after a while. It’s better to be scorned than ignored, ya know? I still think it’s cool as shit that you fucked yourself at work looking at my pictures from the library. They were a lot of fun to take. That kind of thing has always excited me. I'll take out the trash wearing just a long shirt, or wear real baggy jeans with no panties to the mall and let them sag so low that my ass was showing. Lately, I like to go to clubs wearing either shorts so short that my cunt lips pop out when I’m dancing or a thin tank top like the one I was wearing at Vecino. Sometimes I’ll wet the shirt in the bathroom sink. My tits need all the help they can get. LOL They really got some exposure at the very end of my high school career. During the last week of school, I missed the bus on purpose and begged my mom to borrow her car. I promised I’d be home in time for her to go to work that afternoon, so she let me. But instead of going to school, I went to the beach. Butterfly Ch. 07 I bought a pair of boy’s board shorts and went into the men’s bathroom to put them on and take off my top. My little tits were ready to go public. The sorority-looking chick at the counter who had just sold me the shorts saw me come out without a shirt and freaked out. I waved and grabbed my crotch on the way out the door. Walking around topless in crowds of people was a hell of a rush. With my “skimboard” chest and short hair, everyone just assumed I was a boy. I wasn’t completely flat. A boy as skinny as I was wouldn’t have even the little mounds that I did. I guess I just played it off so well that no one looked twice. I got so confident that I walked right into a busy sandwich shop. The girl in front of me in line was around my age. She had on a little bikini and her skin was dark and she had big tits for her size. She had a strong accent and I guessed she was from South America or someplace. I introduced myself as Chris and started flirting. But the guy behind the counter kept looking at my chest funny so I didn’t order anything and left with the hot chick. She was dumb as a rock and I took advantage. We made out for a while in the sand until some old guy told us to “get a room”. So we did. She was staying at a cheap motel with some family, but there was no one in the room when we got there. I took off her top and sucked her big brown tits and fingered her until she came. She wanted me to fuck her, but I acted all gentlemen-like, saying I never did that on a first date and ate her out instead. Her brother or somebody showed up when she was still sprawled out naked on the bed with my face in her pussy. He started yelling in some foreign language and she tried to cover herself and started crying. He looked like he was going to kill me so I ran out. Neither him or that stupid bitch will never know she’s a les, LOL. I drove most of the way home topless. My sunburn gave me away and my mom grounded me for skipping school, but it was worth it. Gotta go. See ya, cuntlicker. Crissy By the time Sherry had finished reading Crissy’s email, her slacks and panties were around her ankles and she had already tickled herself to two orgasms. Her brain kicked back in as she cleaned herself up. The parts about Crissy's growing sexual feelings towards other girls struck a very familiar chord. The parts about her flash dance and going around topless, though, seemed a bit far-fetched. Although Sherry wasn’t sure how much of Crissy’s email was real and how much was BS, Sherry had to admit that the story made her very hot. Sherry and Crissy continued to exchange emails over the next couple of days. Crissy seemed much more interested in discussing Sherry than herself. She wanted to know every detail of Sherry’s trip to Beach Bunnies and all about the Jump Rope Girl and everything else Sherry had mentioned. Crissy also seemed determined to prove that Sherry was gay, saying how much they had in common and even claiming that Sherry’s attraction to Kyle showed that she was looking for “feminine features.” Sherry was puzzled and a little irritated by that comment until she stopped to think about it. Kyle was in very good shape, as you’d expect from someone whose job it is to help others get fit. But his muscles were much more long and lean than big and burly. He had tried to bulk up but never could; Sherry had long envied his ability to eat like a pig and never gain weight. She suddenly realized that her boyfriend’s body looked a lot like the picture of the athletic bathing woman in her dad’s Playboy magazine that she’d masturbated with so long ago. Kyle also had very little body hair, and what he had was blondish and fine like the messy mop on his head. Sherry had always enjoyed the way the thin fair hair on his arms suddenly appeared when sunlight hit them from the side, and how smooth his hard abs felt against her skin. He only needed to shave his boyish face about once a week and had once given up waiting for the stylish goatee he’d tried to grow. Besides his appearance, Kyle was probably the most mild-mannered guy that Sherry had ever known, certainly the nicest that she’d ever gone out with. He was also a very good listener and wasn’t particularly aggressive or obnoxious. These are all traits, Sherry realized, that are usually associated with women. And it was she, not Kyle, who was hesitant about committing to a more serious relationship. He’d invited her to move to his apartment when her lease expired and she’d declined, saying she “needed her space.” He’d even dropped hints about rings, but just the thought of it scared her to death. Putting it all together (and throwing in the fact that she’d always thought muscle-bound and/or hairy guys were rather disgusting), Sherry realized that Crissy might have a point. In a confessional mood again late at night, Sherry admitted in an email that perhaps Kyle was a substitute for what she really wanted: a girlfriend. “Or,” she mumbled to herself cynically, ”maybe Crissy is a substitute for another guy.” On Friday, Crissy emailed that she and some friends planned to “hit some clubs” Saturday night and asked Sherry if she wanted to join them. Sherry always hung out with Kyle on the weekends, but it was obvious that he was not invited. She’d seen him less than usual that week, partly because they were both busy and partly because just showing up at each other’s door seemed inappropriate with the tension still between them. Sherry really wanted to smooth things over and running off mysteriously without her boyfriend on a Saturday night was no way to repair their relationship. So right before leaving the office that Friday afternoon, Sherry typed up an email declining Crissy’s invitation. But after scanning it for typos, she couldn’t bring herself to send it. Kyle was important to her, but she wanted Crissy with every ounce of her libido and she couldn’t possibly turn down the chance to see her again. With a click of the mouse, the email expressing her regrets was gone. Her new reply to Crissy was short and to the point: I’ll be there. Love, Your Cuntlicker Butterfly Ch. 08 Chapter 8 - Sherry's Diary: Wilder Night Out Author's note: I've been working on this story for a looong time. The first part put to paper (yes, paper) was chapter two, which grew out of a real entry in my diary. Soon after, I began typing chapter one into an old laptop at a local coffee shop, enjoying the thrill of typing an explicit erotic story while surrounded by oblivious yuppies sipping lattes. A lot has changed since then. I started writing "Butterfly" when I was just a couple years out of college, the same age as my alter-ego as the story opens. In the beginning, it was pretty much a journal of my life as it was happening, with only the names and a few details altered. Gradually, it evolved into a "what-if"; what if I had done that, what if she had said that. (Tho interestingly enough, some of the what-ifs actually happened (more or less) after I had written them.) But due to constraints of both time and creativity, this poor story became neglected, a reminder of my wilder days tucked safely away in a back corner of my hard drive. Recently, I sat down and read through the whole thing for the 1st time in years. It was hard to believe it was my work; I couldn't remember writing whole scenes. It felt kinda like another author had asked me to continue a story she'd never finished, so that's what I did. The original author (as I've come to think of my younger self) had outlined the whole rest of the story. Though I probably wouldn't finish the tale the same way today, I'm going to mostly follow that old plan to keep the same vibe and not jar the readers with a completely different style. Upcoming chapters will take our main character to places that we might not want her to go, but I hope that the journey for us invisible voyeurs (that's me and you) will make it all worthwhile. - "Sherry" -------------------- Dear Diary: I'm typing this on my laptop at the airport, waiting for my fight to DC. I won't be leaving for a couple more hours, so in the meantime, I've got to try and sort out everything that happened, all the crazy conflicting emotions spinning like a hurricane in my head. I can't believe what happened last night. I can't believe what happened to me, or what I let happen to me. I hope Kyle will forgive me, IF I ever get brave enough to tell him about it. Actually, I hope I can forgive myself. I'll try to get it all down now while it's still fresh in my mind... I knew Kyle didn't believe me when I called and told him that a wife of a client needed entertaining on very short notice. I'd only been asked to do that once before, and I had known a couple weeks in advance that time. So I suggested that he hang out with his buddies and play that baseball video game he just bought. He was noncommittal and sounded kinda suspicious, but I really didn't care. What a dumbass I was! But I was so craving Crissy all day, I just wasn't thinking straight (pardon the pun). When I got in the office yesterday morning (gawd, was it only yesterday??? It seems like years ago already!), the first thing I did was check my email. Crissy hadn't yet replied to my RSVP for that evening, so I asked her to send details about our plans to my home email so I wouldn't be checking for new messages at work every 5 minutes. I really did need to catch up on the accounts I'd been ignoring all week. But while I had the email program open, I copied those pictures of Crissy streaking in the library to my computer's hard drive and deleted her emails from the company email server. (I can't believe I left them on there so long!!! Hope the IT guys were as incompetent as usual... ) So while I didn't waste any time checking for new naughty letters, who knows how many times I scrolled through those photos of Crissy flashing her ridiculously skinny yet sexy body through the college library. It got me so worked up that I took off my panties and stuffed them in my purse before going out for our traditional Friday whole-department lunch. Nobody could see anything under my calf-length skirt, but I knew and it felt delicious. And then frigging myself with that thick permanent marker under the desk in the afternoon... let's just say I didn't get much work done after all. As soon as I got home, I dashed to the computer. Sure enough, Crissy had emailed to say she'd meet me at some "alternative" club at around 11. That was disappointing since it was only 5-something. I considered calling Kyle and saying my entertaining duties had been cancelled, figuring that I could relieve some sexual tension with a little quickie, then leave early and make my late appointment with Crissy. But I didn't — Kyle just knows me too well. He'd sense immediately that something was amiss and I'd be busted. Knowing what I know now, I wish I would have picked up the phone, gone out with Kyle, and forgotten about the whole Crissy thing. At least I think I wish that. God, I'm so confused right now... Anyway, I rushed through a quick dinner at home. 5:30. Then I cleaned the kitchen. 6:12. Next I dusted and vacuumed every inch of the whole apartment. 6:57. Time was just crawling. There was more cleaning I could have done, but I didn't want to tire myself out. So I sat down and called a few old friends I've been meaning to get back in touch with. I reached two voice mails, then got stuck hearing a high school acquaintance's husband's spiel about how he could "get me into a new hot tub for less than $50 a month." I bet he'd like to try. As soon as I disengaged the shyster from my ear, my fingers automatically flew across the keypad to call someone whose voice I really wanted to hear in my keyed-up state of mind: Jen. She was out to dinner with a "friend from work". (I had dialed her cell.) The way she said it, tho, made me think she might be trying to hide the fact that she was on a hot date. "Is he cute?" I asked, whispering conspiratorially for no apparent reason. "Use code words if you don't wanna talk in front of him." Jen shushed me, saying it was "nothing like that", but in such a secretively quiet tone that she made me think it was exactly like "that". I wished her "good lick, er, luck" and she laughed, asking me why I was such a "hyper horndog this evening?" Man, I was tempted to spill the beans about Crissy, but I just said it was "nothing like that". We laughed again, I admitted that I really miss her, she said "my casa is tu casa", I giggled at Jen's mangled spanglish, and we said goodbye. I looked at the clock: 8:01. I couldn't wait any to start getting ready. A nice long shower is supposed to be relaxing, but not last night, especially since I was sure to clean up all my important areas REAL well. The Brazilian wax job was holding up great so my razor wasn't needed, but I scrubbed in all the right places. But I was sure not to bring myself off. I wanted to save that for later, leaving me wanting more. So when I dried off, I was still wet, in a way. :-) When I opened my closet, a swirl of doubts suddenly spun through my brain. Crissy is a college freshman, maybe 6 or 7 years younger than me. My college clothes still fit quite nicely, thank you, but they're not quite in-style among the MTV crowd (IF they still watch MTV). That made me think; what was I getting myself into? Maybe I was playing the fool, trying to act younger than I was, trying to be hip among alt.trendy college kids but setting myself up to look pathetic. Come to think of it, maybe that's exactly what happened. But at the time, I pushed my doubts aside and carefully combed through my wardrobe. I thought about pulling out the teeny black dress I'd worn out with Kyle to Beach Bunnies and Wendy's that fateful night, but decided against it. It's too formal and too desperate, all at the same time. Besides, it reminded me too much of Kyle. Too many reminders and I wouldn't have been able to go through with the rendezvous. I figured I couldn't go wrong with tight jeans, along with one of Kyle's white button-down long sleeve shirts tied at the bottom to show just a hint of skin all the way around above my belt (with no love handles, I'm still happy to report) and a pair of casual black heels. I'm not a big fan of heels, but they do show off my legs and butt nicely and these aren't too high for walking or dancing, so I thought what the hell. Underneath, I wore a simple white bra and my "good luck charm", the mighty mini micro-g bottoms. By 10, I was practically bursting with anticipation. So, telling myself that it'd be best to leave reeeeal early to find a parking spot, I was out the door. On the way to the car, tho, I found myself looking around to make sure Kyle wasn't keeping an eye on me. He said he really would call some friends and play video games, but I knew this rendezvous with Crissy was borderline cheating (ok, maybe more that borderline) and the guilt was creeping up. With a solid push on the accelerator as I left the apartment parking lot, I tried to shove my misgivings to the background. Once again, I was STUPID! The club is in Ybor, the formerly run-down section of town where all those old brick factory buildings have been converted into lots of bars and clubs and restaurants. I hadn't been there much in a long while, but lots of people at work still seem to hang out down there pretty often. After finding a parking space (not too hard, but frickin' expensive!), I realized that I didn't want to see any co-workers tonight, especially after meeting Crissy. The sidewalks were getting crowded, but I didn't recognize anyone on the way to my destination. I was supposed to find Crissy at a club called "The Cavern". Even I knew that the castle-esque building with the foreboding wooden door is where the goth kids hang out. It seemed to be just opening when I got there around 10:30. The heavy bass of throbbing techno rumbled through the old bricks, but I peeked inside and it was practically empty. Crissy hardly seemed like the type of person to be early, so instead of paying the cover charge and getting stuck waiting alone in the club, I decided to sit on an out-of-the-way bench across the street and keep an eye out for her. It was hard sitting there waiting. At first, I was just giddy with anticipation. Then I calmed down a bit and did some people watching. There were all kinds of lifestyles represented in the thickening crowds wandering up and down the old street, but almost everyone was under 30, with the majority probably just around 21 or so — the drinking age, of course. There were also plenty of younger teens hanging out in packs on the sidewalks. I guess they were trying to be cool in the grown-up surroundings, or maybe trying to find someone who would buy them a beer. Watching them brought that relentless "I'm too old for this" thought back to the front burner of my mind. Sure, there were lots of people my age around, but I noticed that none of them were going into The Cavern. I wouldn't guess that too many twenty-something proper professionals were anxiously awaiting their teenage goth lesbian-chick hookup, either. And as the old clock tower struck eleven, and then a quarter after, with still no sign of that "chick", I began to feel quite the fool. The irrational side of me wanted to wait some more; the rational side just wanted to go home. So the sides made a deal: I'd leave when the first guy came over to deliver a cheesy pick-up line. It looked like my adventure was done when I spotted a drunken middle-aged guy stumbling in my direction, but then my heart leapt — Crissy was coming around the corner. (He should have stumbled faster.) Crissy was with a half dozen goth-y companions dressed in either too-big black jeans with chains and unnecessary metal thingies or long lacey black skirts and clunky black boots. They all (4 girls, 2 guys) were done up with black fingernails and eyeliner and a variety of spiky, oily, and/or oddly dyed hair-dos. They also had more metal poking out of piercings through various body parts than I kept in my jewelry box — must be lots of fun for them to go through airport security. Their ridiculous fashion sense made me feel even older. But then I noticed that Crissy's outfit wasn't quite as out there. While the others were pretty much covered from neck to at least mid-calf with black clothing of one kind or another, Crissy was wearing a flowing black miniskirt raggedly cut to a couple inches above her knees. She matched that with a lacey half-sleeve top that clung tightly to her skinny torso like a second (black) skin and was just short enough to let her single bellybutton piercing glitter in the streetlights. She was wearing black boots like her friends, but they were much more stylish and sexy than the others'. And her hair was a (relatively) conservative shade of dark purple, cut boyishly short as always to show off a reasonable number of extra piercings up and around her ears. One look at the confidently assertive way she carried herself among her grubby posse and I could tell Crissy was in charge. It was like she was winning a game that the others didn't even know they were playing. I was in lust, again. I didn't know quite how to approach them, so when they ambled up to the entrance to the Cavern, I just walked over and called to Crissy. While the others looked at me like I was somebody's mom trying to break up their fun, Crissy gave me a big grin, threw her arms around me, and locked her lips to mine. I wasn't expecting that, but I reflexively opened my mouth to let her probing tongue in. We played tonsil-hockey on the crowded sidewalk for what seemed like forever. Finally, we disconnected and I almost fell backwards with lightheadedness, my cheeks flushed red, my heart pounding in my chest. She laughed and grabbed my hand and I guess she paid my cover charge because next thing I knew, we were all sitting at a teeny round table in the loud, black-lit interior of the Cavern. Crissy's friends immediately bought drinks and started puffing on odd-smelling cigarettes. Crissy brought me a glass, too, but didn't introduce me to anyone. I sat nursing the identifiable drink for a few minutes feeling ignored and uncomfortable as they chatted about common friends and other stuff I couldn't decipher. I didn't fit in with those weirdoes at all. Just when I was about to get up and tell Crissy I'd see her another time, she grabbed my hand and got everyone's attention. "Forgot to mention," she almost shouted to be heard over the music, "this is Sherry. She's my new cuntlicker!" My face must have turned beet red, but the others just nodded in my direction and went back to their conversation, acting as if they'd been told I was Crissy's new neighbor or something. Despite their lack of response, Crissy grinned wickedly at me, waiting for my reaction, daring me to contradict her. I didn't know what to do, so I just stuck out my tongue, trying to play it off. "Yeah, that's her cuntlicker right there!" she countered. I smiled weakly and gulped down my drink, kinda shocked and offended but with a slow warm tingling building between my thighs. Crissy said a couple more lewd things about me to her mostly indifferent friends, apparently trying to get a rise. For my part, I tried not to react too much, but I was quietly getting hornier by the minute. As the odd scene played out, tho, her comments seemed to be breaking through her friends' stupor. Her observation that I was "hot already, but look even better with pussy juice all over (my) face" got a few pairs of eyes to carefully check me out. Her revelation that I had "really fucking loved being frigged in front of a bunch of church youth groups" actually got a laugh and the attention of the whole table. I don't understand it, but her humiliating comments got me so damn hot. Gawd, did I want them to come true right then. I wanted her to finger-fuck me right in front of everyone, I wanted my face to be dripping wet with any and all love juices right there in that dingy club. Crissy knew it, too. She knew exactly which buttons to press, that manipulative bitch. And when she leaned in closer and we started making out, I didn't care who was watching, I didn't care that she had her hands all over my tits, first through my blouse and then inside of it. I gasped when we came up for air and I noticed that my buttons were mostly undone and my slightly-askew white bra was glowing brightly in the blacklights, but I didn't cover up. I would have let my tongue do its job on her right then and there if she would have asked me to. But she didn't. Crissy suddenly told her friends that she'd see them later ("I've got some fucking to do!") and led me by the hand out the door and into the sidewalk as I frantically tried to button my blouse. "We've gotta sexy up your outfit," she declared, and guided me into a clubwear boutique a few storefronts down the block. The place was stocked with all kinds of outfits; from gothy gear to slinky club dresses to stuff that is definitely not legal to wear in public. Crissy headed right for the naughty section (as I knew she would) and flew through the racks like a whirling dervish, quickly browsing through lots of barely-there items, rejecting each one before I could do so myself. Then she found a simple black miniskirt and held it up in triumph. It was a lot like her skirt except that it had several thin lace panels running up the back, front, and side of the thighs. It also looked at least a couple sizes too small for me. "This is perfect!" she declared. I said it was small but she ignored me, holding it up against my waist and grinning some more. The skirt didn't even reach down to the bottom of jean pockets. I told her no but she's so damn persistent. So we made a deal; I'd buy them, but I wouldn't put them on... yet. At the cash register, she threw in a small box of some kind of paint. She wouldn't say what it was for, just grinned like a Cheshire cat. I didn't ask any questions, and in another minute, I left the store with a small shopping bag, a lighter pocket, and my dignity still mostly intact. For the moment, anyway... Crissy was ready to hit more clubs, but I said I wanted to put the new skirt in the car so I wouldn't have to carry the bag around. I could tell she wasn't happy about that but she trudged along to the parking lot. When she realized I was really going to dump the skirt, tho, she started ranting that I needed to loosen up, that I was being a "fuckin' baby" and that maybe I should just go home. Now if anybody else talked to me like that, I'd tell them to shut up and fuck off or both. But like I said, she knows how to push my buttons. Instead of driving home and forgetting about this whole crazy evening, I found myself apologizing for not putting on the skirt and offered to take off my bra instead. I don't know why; I can't explain it. Call it thinking with my clit if you want. But that's what I did. And not only did I leave my bra in the car, I accepted Crissy's offer to fold my teeny new skirt into her purse for safekeeping "just in case" I wanted it later. I even let her unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt, revealing a good bit of unfettered cleavage. I know, I know; what the fuck was I thinking? I wish I could explain it... Anyway, Crissy suggested we go to "Civilixation", a nearby club that was "more my style." The place is a converted movie theater with the old-fashion movie marquee and everything. There was a long line of your typical "beautiful people" waiting out front, but the place is so big that the line moved fast. We were at the front when I realized that Crissy wasn't old enough to get in. But either she's got a good fake ID or the beefy guy at the door liked our saucy looks because he shot us a flirty smile and waved us in. Crissy was right; Civilixation is the kind of club I'm used to. Top-40 and pop/dance remixes on the thumping sound system with lighting shifting to the beat, neon beer signs on the walls, and the crowd a mix of college-aged and older 20-somethings. It was the sort of place I used to visit with Kyle. Butterfly Ch. 08 Paradoxically, the familiarity made me feel even naughtier. I was in my element, but I was there with Crissy, who had me dirty dancing braless among people I might actually know. It was almost like fooling around with Kyle in the car or in my parents' bedroom when they were away, or the craziness last week out on Vecino Beach. I never realized 'til recently that sexiness where it's not allowed is such a turn on. I was really uptight, tho. To help me cope, I drank. A lot. Even weak drinks catch up with you when you have enough of them. I had more than enough. Crissy, of course, took advantage. She pulled me close as we danced to some cheesy/bouncy pop song (something by No Doubt, I think) and kissed me while unbuttoning my blouse. When she backed off, the only button still fastened was the one right between my boobs. She flashed that wicked smile and I smiled back, dancing more energetically so that my tits leapt under my shirt and almost bounced right out more than once. The guy next to me noticed and stared until his girlfriend pulled him away. She gave me a vicious "you slut!" look before leaving. I can't believe how much that look turned me on, too. So when Crissy grabbed my hand and pulled me up to one of the caged-in platforms near the front of the dance floor, I didn't object at all. We danced for just a minute before she leaned in and we started to make out. I heard the guys below began to hoot and cheer in response, but then Crissy's spectacular kissing pushed everything else aside until all I knew in the world were her lips and tongue. When we stopped to breathe, I noticed that she had finished unbuttoning my shirt and my boobs were almost slipping out, the shirt held loosely together only by the knot at the bottom. She laughed as I quickly tied the bottom a little higher up, but I didn't bother buttoning anything. We dirty danced some more and the hoots returned. I dunno if she loosened that knot or if it came undone by itself. All I know is that, somehow or another, the front of my blouse came completely open and my tits were on display henever I moved. And since I was dancing, that was probably most of the time. I honestly didn't notice for a second, but when I did, I pretended that I didn't know why the hoots got louder and kept right on dancing, watching the lustful twinkle in Crissy's eye grow brighter. When the song ended, I acted all embarrassed as I re-tied the front of my shirt and stepped down from the platform to cheers. And wouldn't you know it, standing among the crowd at the bottom of the steps was Trish, that sexy receptionist from the office, clapping and smiling along with the rest. Gawd, I couldn't believe I had flashed a whole dance club with someone from work watching, much less someone that I still had a girlcrush on. Blushing, I smiled weakly at her and headed towards the bar for another drink. But first, I needed to pee. I mentioned this to Crissy and she grinned again. "I thought you'd never ask," she replied, then grabbed my hand and led me through the crush of people to the ladies' room. Of course, there was a line. We actually got into the cramped and dingy little bathroom, but the four stalls were all taken and a half-dozen women waited impatiently by the two rust-stained sinks. Right there at the end of the line, Crissy pulled me close and began to kiss me like crazy. I noticed several heads turn to look as we made out surrounded by chicks washing their hands or fixing their makeup or just standing there waiting. Her incredible kissing zoned me out again until she grabbed my crotch through my jeans and started rubbing. I felt that all right. Then her hand wandered north and the knot holding my blouse pop loose. Her sexual ambidexterity is pretty amazing when you think about it. While her right hand dropped back down to squeeze between my denim-covered thighs, she used her left to yank my shirt back and down by the scruff of the neck, pulling it away from my chest and leaving it draped like a shawl across my lower back, just hanging on by my elbows. I meant to cover up, but first I couldn't resist a peek at my state of undress. Tho of course my brain knew I was topless, seeing the reflection of my bare boobs in the crowded bathroom mirror still hit me like a thunderbolt. All around, ladies were staring at me with looks ranging from unfeigned shock to unfeigned disgust. My face shown with lust as well as I checked myself out; it was definitely another out of body experience, and I thoroughly enjoyed the show that the half-naked slut in the mirror and her goth girlfriend were putting on. I drew the line, tho, when Crissy attacked the fly of my jeans. A woman came out of a stall and I dragged Crissy into it, cutting in line, my belt buckle already hanging loose and jingling, slamming the stall door shut behind us. Crissy looked a little annoyed when she asked me if I still had to pee. Of course I did, but she was in there with me, you know? But I nodded, and she said she'd help. So I sat on the toilet seat and she grabbed my jeans and tugged them down to my ankles. I was so drunk. I giggled uncontrollably as I moved my micro-g "panties" out of the way to pee what seemed like a couple of gallons while Crissy watched and grinned rakishly the whole time. When I was done, she considerately gave me a wipe, leaving me disappointed with only a little tickle of my lower lips before pulling me to my feet to kiss me on my upper lips. I felt her slipping my shirt off my arms and didn't object. I felt her fingers slipping around my micro-g to caress me and I wanted more. As she continued to tease, getting so worked up, she whispered her idea; she wanted me to put on the mini skirt. How could I not say yes at that point? Then she revealed what that paint she had bought at the clubwear store was all about — she also wanted me to lose my shirt and go back out to the dance floor with just a painted-on "tube top" across my bare boobs. That took a little more persuasion, a job her magic fingers handled very well. As Crissy nibbled on my earlobe, she added that I'd be more covered up that I had been a few minutes previously on that platform in front of everyone with my shirt wide open, being sure to mention how hot she thought I had looked up there letting my tits bounce around for a couple hundred people. I quickly agreed. Actually, I was in such a state that I would have done anything if that little manipulative bitch would just get me off. She must have read my mind, because she said she'd do just that as soon as I had changed outfits. So I got started. First she squeezed out some bodypaint on her hands and spread it over my chest, tweaking me occasionally, of course. In less than a couple minutes, she had fashioned the paint into a broad horizontal stripe wide enough to cover from the top of my cleavage to right below my breasts, going around my back to complete the effect. Looking down, it did almost appear like I was wearing a white semi-modest tube top, the effect spoiled only a little by the sight of my happy nips jutting out just a bit too proudly. Then Crissy helped me out of the jeans (not too easy to get tight jeans over heels, especially in a little bathroom stall) and into the mini skirt. Gawd, I felt so naked, and not just because I wasn't really wearing a top. I've never worn anything so short as that skirt, ever — I have t-shirts that cover more below the waist. And though I didn't have a mirror to check out the rear, a quick reach-around seemed to indicate that the rise of my ass cheeks were on display even when I was standing straight and still. And a quick touch in the front made me realize that Crissy had apparently taken my panties off with my jeans, leaving me feel even more exposed. Before I could have second thoughts, Crissy made good on her promise, jamming her hand under the teeny skirt and into my enticingly vulnerable slit in one smooth motion. Within a minute or two, she had me shaking and gushing, my mouth wedged into her shoulder so that no one would hear me scream with pleasure in the crowded restroom. When I opened my eyes, tho, it was obvious that all the yelling in the world wouldn't have gotten me much more attention than I already had. At some point, Crissy must have clandestinely unlocked the stall door because now it was wide open and several ladies had been watching her get me off — my top just paint, my skirt way too short, and my panties still clenched in Crissy's other hand. I recoiled and grabbed at my micro-g (as if the tiny butt floss would make me decent), but Crissy waved it around to tease me for a moment before tossing it out by the sinks. I scurried after my panties, very conscious of the fact that my bare ass (and probably more) was fully on display when I bent over to pick them up and slip them on. Crissy thought this was hilarious. She gathered my discarded clothes and hooked her arm into mine, guiding me out of the restroom back into the welcomely-dark club. She suggested I get another drink to "chill the fuck out" while she said she'd put my shirt and jeans in a locker. I got my drink, but I never saw those clothes again. I bought a test tube shot from the fake-titted shot girl in a dark corner to avoid the brighter lights of the bar area. As soon as I had gulped it down, Crissy returned and led me back out onto the dance floor. The night became a blur for a while after that. I remember my bodypaint top glowing brightly in the blacklights. I remember jostling against others on the floor as the place filled up to its most crowded Saturday night peak. But most of all, I remember feeling so thrillingly yet clandestinely exposed dancing among all those people. Nobody seemed to notice my state of undress for a couple of songs. Crissy seemed to be annoyed by this and danced closer while nudging me slowly near the raised platform. I was really drunk at the time, but still not drunk enough to go up there and show off pretty much everything. So I stayed at ground level, but the spotlights shining on the platform right beside me lit my body up enough that others began to realize what I was — and wasn't — wearing. A couple guys nearby got nearer and gave me flirty smiles, which I probably returned. That's when Crissy made her move. She got up real close and started kissing me while grabbing my ass with both hands, lifting that little whiff of a skirt up all the way around, pushing her lithe little body into mine. The hoots predictably returned. When she backed off, I immediately noticed that the purplish blacklight glow off my chest was a little less brilliant — Crissy's embrace had rubbed off some of the paint from the area of my body that protruded the most: my nipples. My choice of "clothing" was now obvious to anyone who bothered to look. Lots of guys seemed to do just that because my area of the dance floor became really popular all of a sudden. While I felt both anxious and aroused by the attention, Crissy seemed to revel in it. She held me close again and we danced with our legs tangled, her bare thigh rubbing against the crotch of my g-sting under my teeny skirt, my bare thigh rubbing against her bare pussy (I wasn't very suprised that she wasn't wearing panties) under her slightly longer skirt. The crowd really went wild then. A couple guys pressed right up against us and started feeling up my boobs and ass, rubbing even more paint off, which attracted more guys, who kept putting their hands all over my very accessable body. A couple of hands even made their way into the front of my panties. It was like a shark feeding frenzy. Right when I was really getting scared, a flashlight beam shone through the crowd and they backed off. I was relieved until I saw that the face behind the flashlight was that of the bouncer, and he didn't look happy. Crissy laughed, quickly grabbed my wrist, and led on a roundabout route through the throng, avoiding the club security all the way out the back door. It was only a few hurried paces later that I realized I was now outside and 3/4 naked, albeit on a relatively quiet side road. "Where did you leave my clothes?" I asked in a panic. "In there," Crissy replied, pointing at the club we had just escaped with an evil grin. "Wanna go back and get them?" Of course I couldn't do that. All I could do was hurry back to my car and get out of there before somebody saw me. Luckily, the lot was only a couple blocks away along the darker back street. Unluckily, Kyle stepped out of a doorway across the way. I must have a strong heart. Otherwise, I'd be dead from the shock of seeing my boyfriend come out of GameTime (basically an arcade for adults) with a couple of his friends. He didn't see me, though, so I quickly ducked behind a car parked curbside across the street from where Kyle was, Crissy giggling but following my lead (for once). At first, I was a little mad to see him out. But then I realized that he had said he might play video games with his friends, and that's exactly what he had done. Also, I didn't have much moral high ground, seeing that I had lied about where I was going and who I was going with. That's not even mentioning the fact that I was running around Ybor almost nude, or what happened later on that night. I don't think I'll ever have the moral high ground ever again. Anyway, I peeked out over the hood of the parked car to make sure Kyle wasn't coming my way. He wasn't. Actually, he told his friends goodbye and started heading for a parking garage down the street, never even looking in my direction. I breathed a sigh of relief. But just when the coast was almost clear enough for me to stand up, two slender fingers suddenly forced their way up into my pussy. In my attempted stealthiness, I guess I had forgotten what I was wearing. Crouched down, my micro-mini skirt bunched uselessly around my hips, completely exposing everything below. Crissy, of course, had noticed and was now finger-fucking me right there on the sidewalk. Though that road was quiet, it wasn't completely empty. But I had my eyes closed enjoying Crissy's internal massage and didn't know anyone else was around until I heard (female) voices yell stuff like "Wooo!!!" and "You go, girl!!!" I opened my eyes to see three pairs of high heels. My gaze traveled up shapely legs to see 3 college-aged girls walking slowly by, taking their time to watch what Crissy was doing. Of course, Crissy didn't stop fingering me. Of course, being watched again made me come real hard again. Of course, I squirted all over my feet and the sidewalk. The girls cheered some more, then continued. As I straightened up, tho, another group wandered over — 4 thuggish looking teenage boys. They stepped forward, I guess thinking they were next. That's when Crissy turned from sexy performer to raging psycho-bitch. "Show's over, get the fuck outta here, motherfuckers!" she yelled. When they ignored her and crept closer, Crissy held her purse menacingly as if about to pull a bazooka out of the little handbag, and said quietly but darkly, "Don't make me use this." "Ok, ok!" the boys responded, hand out, palms outstretched, defeated. They called us "bitches" but moved on. My heart began to beat again. Hurrying away before they returned, I asked Crissy what she had in her handbag. She grinned and pulled out a large metal dildo. We laughed hysterically as we got in my car. "Where to?" I asked. "My place?" she responded coyly, spreading her legs to display her hairless little cunny. Her suggestion suddenly sounded like a great idea. I was still pretty drunk, so I stuck to the back roads trying to follow Crissy's directions, trying to concentrate on the road. She didn't help out much. Almost as soon as we had left the parking lot, Crissy hiked her skirt up around her waist and started fucking herself with that dildo. As if that wasn't distracting enough, she leaned back against the passenger door and spread her legs real wide, even putting her right foot up in the middle of the dashboard just like I had done in Kyle's car on the night we had put on that show for Crissy at Wendy's. We got the red light at one of the few large intersections I couldn't avoid. There's hardly any traffic at that hour, but there were a lot of bright streetlights and I warned Crissy that she might want to stop for a minute. She responded by running her hand up her slit, then offering her wet fingers to me. I licked them clean, of course. Her taste was like a potent aphrodisiac, and I instantly went from Nervous Nelly to Horny Hortense as Crissy leaned over we began to make out, her busy damp hands massaging my still semi-painted tits. I saw the other car pull beside us out of the corner of my eye. Startled, I glanced over and noted that our new neighbors were a cute young couple in a little old Toyota. Then Crissy's newly-rewetted fingers drew my attention back to her. I licked them off again before we tongue-wrestled some more. When I peeked back out my window, I noticed two very interesting things. One, the light was green and we weren't moving. Two, neither was the cute couple in the car beside us. I could understand the guy getting hypnotized by the sight of two girls making out, but instead of punching him, his female friend was staring at me and Crissy, too. That made me even hotter. I took the initiative and jammed my fingers into Crissy's cunt for a change. She couldn't stand not being in charge, apparently, because she instantly pulled my hand away and hopped over to my lap, straddling me and facing me as if I was a boy she wanted to fuck in the car, peeling her shirt over her head to expose her flat chest at the same time. Of course, I'm not a boy and had nothing to slide into her slit. So she ground her increasingly wet pussy against my thigh while I kissed her neck and little tits, peeking over at the other car once in a while to make sure they were still there. They were. Gawd, it was so sexy how Crissy writhed her slender body against me. I imagined taking Kyle's role from when we fucked in the car on the way to Vecino way back when. By the time the light changed again, Crissy's face was almost as red as the traffic signal and she wetly came all over my leg. She cried out, then pacified herself by slurpily cleaning her own pussy juices off of her finger, sharing a bit with me. Looking over to make sure the couple had seen it all, I was momentarily puzzled to note that the chick was gone. Then I noticed the back of her head just visible bobbing up and down over the guy's lap. Wow. The signal on the cross street turned yellow. Crissy lifted up my now barely-painted bare breasts as if to offer them to the guy as his face began to get a bit flush from the attention of his girlfriend on his knob. When our light turned green, Crissy licked my nipple for added effect right before I hit the gas, leaving the couple to enjoy the suddenly warmer night alone. I cooled off a bit when we finally arrived at the rambling old house Crissy shared with her roommates. There were cars parked all over in the street and front yard, all the lights were on, the place seemed packed. I was deflated; I wanted to get nasty alone with my little lesbo bitch, not go to some college party. Crissy sensed my unease as I pulled into an empty slot on the driveway. "One of my roommates is having a stupid basketball party. Don't worry — we'll have some private time." That I believed. The biggest problem was that I was topless and wearing only the littlest fringe of a skirt with my own clothes left behind somewhere in Ybor. I should have used some common sense. I should have dropped her off and told her we'd hook up another time. Or, even better, I should have thanked her for a fun evening and zoomed away without ever looking back. Butterfly Ch. 08 But instead, I hesitated. Sherry stepped waded into my vacillations, offering to repaint my virtual tube top if it'd make me "feel better". I let her do that much, but still wasn't sure about getting out of the car. Then she offered me a pill to help me to "stop being so fucking uptight." The only pills I've ever taken were prescription medicines and stuff like tylenol. I was the president of the freakin' "say no to drugs" club in high school. Yet blame it on alcohol or horniness or just the devil on my shoulder finally convincing me to defy my mom and stop being such a goody two-shoes, but I reached out and grabbed on of the two little pills waiting in Crissy's open palm, trying to placate my sensible side by rationalizing that I was only accepting half of the mystery dose Crissy had offered. (I still don't know what Crissy gave me — probably ecstasy as I think back on how I was acting afterwards.) Like a stupid kid who fell for a stupid dare, I flipped the pill into my mouth and washed it down with the bottled water I always keep in the car, Crissy watching with satisfaction as I gulped it down. Then she hopped out and ran around the car, opening my door like some kind of goth-bitch doorman, and led me to her front stoop, music and loud voices clearly audible from inside. I must have still looked nervous. As she turned the knob and flung the door open with a flourish, she pushed me in by my ass and whispered conspiratorially into my ear, "Let's go have some fun."... ... I have to stop typing now; my flight is about to board. Actually, this is a good place to stop. I don't think I'm mentally ready to recall and retell what happened in Crissy's house so soon after the fact. I just hope that visiting Jen in DC will help me to clear my head and help me make sense of what the fuck happened last night, help me to put all the pieces back together. And I have no idea what I'm going to tell Kyle...