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 ---