Its Friday, a chance to let your hair down. You spend a while on your make up, eyes poppin, lips seducing. Dressing you slip on that cheeky butterfly first, then hold ups and a quite devastating push up bra. Inching up that slinky skirt, slipping on that low cut top. Its time.
You head to the bar, there are a few of you meeting up, but there is one girl in particular you have your sights on. Scanning their faces when you arrive you conceal your disappointment​ that Lauren isn’t there.
Taking a drink you settle at the table chattering away complimenting on latest hair do’s, new dresses and shoes, and the inevitable tales of who’s been fucking who, and exactly how.
You hadn’t noticed the table of guys across the way until the bottle of wine arrived in front of you. Sipping at a glass you feel the bubbles effervesce your spirits. That guy who can’t keep his eyes off you raises his glass as if to chink yours.
Then bad news strikes with a blink on your phone. Lauren, the object of your desires, and reason for wearing the butterfly won’t be coming after all. You feel it pressed up against you, reminding you of what you had planned. Recklessly you step over to the admiring guy, slip the remote into his pocket, and whisper be gentle in his ear before returning to your seat.
The look on his face is a picture, thrilled that you approached him, confused at the device you placed in his control, and full of lust at the glimpse of your stocking tops as you walked away from him. He inspects the control finding a dial marked from one through to five, a button labelled pulse, and a small green led promising it is connected. Curiosity gets the better of him, he watches intently as he shifts the dial to one. He notes the straightening of your body as a light tingle surrounds your button. He shifts the dial to two and the intensity grows, you gaze at him over the lower lip now clamped between your teeth. He skips straight past three onto four causing you to throw your head forwards muffling your gasp in a pretend sneeze. Just as quickly the butterfly goes dead, it seems he is now all to aware of the power he wealds over you.
The next ten minutes pass slowly as you wait in anticipation, casting furtive glances at him. It’s only when you fall deep into conversation and least expect it that the soft hum begins again. No variation, just a relentless background hum that gradually pervades you. As you get used to riding this wave it notches up a step, more insistent, nagging at you. The minutes pass by and once again you fade the pleasure into the background, containing yourself. When it clicks again you struggle to hold it down, it’s becoming hard to stay in the here and now, and you realise your knuckles are going white from gripping onto the chair you didn’t even realise you were gripping. Thankfully you get a hold of yourself before your eyeballs start rolling back in your head, give him a cool look.
The next thing is a game changer, out of nowhere it’s like the vibrations are rolling backwards, then forwards again. The fucker must have found the pulse button. You are totally about to lose your shit in the middle of this bar, and strangely all you care about is how damn good it feels. When he kicks it up again you can’t really even see him, your sight has gone decidedly blurry. You just about manage to get yourself to your feet and make it over to him, shaking in your heels. Grabbing his wrist you tell him in no uncertain terms that is not gentle and he is going to need to come with you right now.
Piling outside you fortunately find a waiting cab. On the way back to yours he grins like a cheshire cat as he continues to play with the dial eliciting not just one, but two orgasms from you along the journey. At least he pays the bill and assists you to your door. Once inside you waste no time stripping him of his clothes, but refuse him access to yours. It’s time for you to see how much teasing he can handle.
Sitting him on a chair you cuff his hands and proceed to slowly undress yourself, enjoying him salivate and get more and more frustrated. Down to just your hold ups and butterfly you retrieve the control from his pocket and straddle him. Pressing up against his shaft you let him feel number one. Sliding along his length you coat him with your moistness.
With a mischievous smile you give him the next setting, smirking as he clenches his jaw. With setting three you up your game, working your way up his hot meat, teasing his tip, then putting him inside you and taking him all the way in. God it feels so good you almost don’t want to climb off yourself. He wrestles against his binds. You know setting four might well consume yourself but you make him suffer it. Taking a deep breath you go full tilt, working your hips into him, then taking him again. The reaction is almost immediate, it’s like a tap turned on filling you with hot cum. You ride as much as you can before you melt into a shivering mess yourself.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/65c176/float_like_a_butterfly_fm