tagHumor & SatireLepidopterology




I never knew she was lepidopterist until, while on a date, I was followed into a car by a butterfly. Now this was not just any butterfly, it happened to one of the rarest butterflies in the continental United States, one that many collectors would happily pay thousands of dollars for. Hell, I didn't know, I was just surprised at the pretty little butterfly flitting about when Janice just about went nuts.

"Don't touch it, let it land there and then don't move," she suddenly said as I reached for it.

"I wasn't going to hurt it," I replied.

"You don't understand," she said, running her hand through her short blond hair and curling it back behind her ear. "It's a valuable specimen, but only if it remains in perfect shape." She seemed almost breathless as the blue and black insect landed on my dashboard.

"When you say valuable..."

"Last year I saw a collector pay twenty thousand dollars for a damaged corpse of this butterfly and we have a live one here," she said, squirming in her seat.

"How do you know so much about this?" I asked, suddenly noticing how remarkably her nipples were protruding from her blouse. Had I not noticed that before or did it suddenly happen?

"I told you I was studying entomology at the university, well I specialize in lepidopterology."


"Lepidopterology, it's the study of butterflies, I just love them," she said as her hand casually dropped down onto my knee.

Now Janice and I had only been on one date before, and you really couldn't call that a date since we went with a group of people, so this was really our first date. I had not even worked up to holding her hand and well, there it was, her hand sitting on my knee. Not completely sure of the significance of her hand on my knee, I simply continued staring at the butterfly.

"And so you are a butterfly expert?"

"Hardly, I just enjoy them. I started collection caterpillars when I was a little girl and would watch them as they grew to become butterflies. Did you know Nabokov was an amateur lepidopterist?"

"The writer?"

"None other, Vladimir Nabokov, author of Lolita," she said as her hand began slowly sliding up my thigh.

"You and almost see through the blue of the wings," I said, trying to ignore her hand.

"Translucent blue, simply so beautiful," she said as she leaned a bit to get a closer look.

Feeling her breast brush against my arm, I tried to concentrate on the butterfly, but knew I had something else fluttering beneath my fly. Hoping to hide my growing cock I moved my left hand from the steering wheel and placed it in my lap. It was only when her hand slid beneath mine that I knew for sure something was about to happen, something in full view of the butterfly.

I looked down at her and found her lips suddenly touching mine and her tongue slipping into my mouth. Responding I turned my head a bit, but noticed her turn her body some as I did. Was she? Yes, she was moving to she would watch the butterfly as we kissed. I paused for a moment and then moved a hand to her breast, figuring okay, let her watch the butterfly, I'll take care of the rest.

Suddenly her seat back reclined and I fell on top of her, but still her gaze was fixed on the blue and black insect still sitting on my dash. I began to unfasten my belt and open my pants when I noticed she already had her skirt pulled up and her panties were dangling at her ankles. I leaned forward and felt her fingers take my cock and guide it into her pussy, which was already very wet.

Easily sliding into her, I pushed my cock up to the hilt as she lifted her hips to meet me. Her hands grabbed at my ass as she moaned, "Come on, faster, faster." I immediately quickened my pace and let myself focus on the sensation of her pussy as its walls caressed my cock, anything to catch up to her.

She moaned again loudly and although she still stared at the butterfly, she seemed completely lost in what we were doing. Her hips rose as I pushed into her so out bodies slapped together, my balls bouncing off her ass. Groaning she said, "Yes, yes, yes..." and then she grabbed me tight, grinding herself against me as her pussy began pulsing over my cock.

Turned on by her coming, I withdrew a bit and then thrust hard into her, pushing as deep as I could as I came, spurting my cum into her wet pussy. It spurted again and again as I glanced up at her face and saw she still hadn't looked away from the insect. Damn, it was as if she really was fucking the butterfly, or at least that was what she wanted.

After we came, we remained joined on the passenger seat as we caught our breath. She still was looking at the butterfly when my cock slid out of her, but I really didn't mind, I mean just getting to fuck her like that was good enough for me. I truly mean that, honestly. I want you to understand that I truly didn't mind because, well, because of what happened next.

"It's a little hot in here," Janice whispered to me, still admiring the butterfly.

Trying not to disturb it, I started up the car and then, and please, please understand I truly didn't know that when I turned on the air conditioner that... well, the butterfly somehow suddenly got sucked into the air intake and after a soft fluttery sound came from the air vent, Janice and I were lightly sprinkled in translucent blue sprinkles. It was really beautiful how it sparkled around her pussy and in her pubic hair.

I only saw that beautiful sight for an instant because she sat up, slapped me and screamed, "You killed it, you barbarian. Just because I watched it as we had sex, you killed it."

"No, I didn't mean to," I tried to protest.

"Take me home," she demanded.

"But we're here, parked by your apartment. We never left."

Adjusting her skirt, she opened the car door, climbed out and slammed it hard, leaving the translucent blue sparkling in the air. She was already opening the door to her building when I noticed her panties still on the floor. All I could do for the longest time was watch as a light sprinkling of blue settled onto the delicate fabric. I couldn't deny it was a beautiful sight.


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