Butterfly Kisses-Finale

Butterfly Kisses: Finale

By

 Cathy Brockman

Storytime Trysts does not own this photo

Party night got here much faster than I would have liked. I wish I had more time to get to know the imp whose name by the way is Ivan. Obediah has avoided me like the plaque. Oh well I guess if he is happy being a drone to the queen when he could be my prince then more power to him. I don’t need a man than doesn’t want to be with me.

I really don’t want to just pick a man like I’m shopping for clothes. It just doesn't feel right, but mom isn’t giving me the time to go traditional and fall in love. I told her I would choose a mate tonight, I never said anything about setting a wedding date. Perhaps I can buy some time and get to know this prospective mate. If things don’t work out mom can always throw another party for me to choose again. She loves throwing parties.

As usual mom went all out and the party was spectacular. There were fairy lights everywhere twinkling in the dark like millions of tiny stars. Being out in the courtyard garden there wasn't a need for a lot of decoration since the garden was beautiful enough with all the fragrant blooms and the fountains flowing. There were several large buffet tables set up with a variety of foods for all tastes. There were vegan tables, vegetarian tables and a table with meats and cheeses for the carnivores. Something for everyone.

It seems as if everyone in Fae has come to the festivities. Not only was there a smorgasbord of food and drink but a smorgasbord of men. And that one was meant especially for me. I guess the other ladies of Fae were waiting in the sidelines to choose from the leftovers. The funny thing was I still didn't want to choose. I would rather fate choose for me but I guess that wasn't going to happen.

Since Obediah made it perfectly clear he had no interest in being one of the chosen, I narrowed my sights down to Draecon the dragonfly prince and possibly Faelord the firefly prince for the first part of the evening. It didn't take long for me to realize there was no way in Fae I could live with Faelord. The man was just way too flamboyant for me. I finally got away from  him.

Draecon bored me to sleep with all his tales of battles and the like. I just don’t see me in his dark kingdom watching him practice sword fighting and all his jujitsu, boxing and gladiator games. I’m not the violent type or the outdoorsy active type either.

I’m more creative and colorful and nature friendly. I like sunning in the sand, and have recently discovered I like fishing. Well I don’t like to fish. But I enjoyed watching a certain sexy Imp fish and tell me stories of hiking in the woods, bird watching and life in the woods. An Imp that didn't show up, which is probably good.

 If I was to choose an Imp my mom would split a wing. But she never said I had to choose an insect Faery, her words and I quote were ‘LaRae, it’s time you choose a mate, this weekend at the end of the ball you will give me your choice from the suitors in attendance, and I will make the announcement.’ Nowhere did she specify species.

I had hoped that Ivan would show bu, no such luck. I had not figured as much since he let me know he wasn't a party type person nor did he like crowds or big fancy galas. I didn't tell him about the big reason mom was throwing the party. Mainly I didn't want him to know that I was choosing a man like most people choose food or clothing, second I didn't want to think that the only reason he came was a chance to marry into the royal family. If he came it was to spend time with me, to meet my family and friends and no other agenda. I didn't figure in just a few days he would be interested in me enough to come meet my family since he told me he was too shy and just didn't do crowds.

The night was half over and I had no clue as to what to do. I felt like just running away. I was avoiding mom all I could. I slipped off to the back of the garden to a big patch of toadstools near a small cascading fountain. There sitting on a toadstool skipping pebbles in the small stream was Ivan.

My heart skipped a beat. He came. Even though he made it clear he even had panic attacks around a lot of people, here he is. Does that mean he likes me? I take a deep breath.

“Hi Imp.”

His eyes light up as he takes in my long, flowing, fuchsia dress that has a seashell bodice. His broad smile sends goose bumps all over me. What is it about this man that just revs my engines?

“G’d  Evnin’ Faery. You look lovely.” He grins impishly as his eyes rake over my body, he folds his large hands across his lap but I already noticed what he was trying to hide.

But does he just lust after me or does he like me? Will he run like a rabbit when I tell him the real reason for the party and that he is at the top of my list?

“Ivan I need to ask you a couple questions”

“Okay.” He goes back to tossing pebbles.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

“You invited me.” Plop, plop, goes the pebbles.

“You said you probably wouldn't come that you don’t like crowds or parties.”

He turns to look at me. Even in the pale moonlight I can see the glimmer in his gorgeous forest green eyes.

“No I don’t, but I like you.” Then like a slight whisper of wind, “I missed you.”

“Ivan, do you like me as a friend or would you be interested in more.”

“More as in what?” he keeps his gaze on my eyes. I can see how nervous he is and I can just feel a pull between us.

I tell him why mom has thrown the party. I tell him I like him a lot and want to get to know him more.

He smiles at me and nods. I take him by the hand.

“Would you like to go meet my mom?”

He slowly stands and nods again.

I swallow hard as we walk through the crowd. We stop at the buffet tables and I encourage Ivan to eat a little. I grab a cup of honey wine. I need a bit of liquid encouragement to face mom. I approach the Dias and mom looks up at me hopefully.

“Well LaRae, have you made a choice or do I get the honor.” She has a smug look on her face.

“Ivan, this is my Mother, queen of the butterfly faeries, Mom this is Ivan, my mate.”

Not the end, but a new beginning!

I hope you enjoyed My Faery tale. We had a blast writing it. If you missed the first episode you can find it here 

Chapter 2 here!

Chapter 3here 

Join us in May for Kiss of Fate our prequel to Love Bites and see the budding romance of Nicolai a prominent heir of a large plantation and Illia a Wicca peasant girl. Two lovers from different stations in life and how fate intervenes.

 Be on the lookout for a big announcement at the end of this story!

Bold New Moves

What happens when you start as friends? It's said that if you're friends first you'll be lovers for a lifetime.  Do you remember those initial flutter? That churning in your gut feeling, afraid the other person just isn't into you the same way? 

Storytime does not own rights to this photo. See stockphoto.

Bold New Moves

 by 

Ben Hannigan

I can’t do this.  I’m terrified, worried sick, my lungs are on fire, I can barely breathe. I watch as my hands shake and tremor, barely able to light my cigarette, the flickering flame blurring and sputtering into the wind. I keep swearing and my roll-up flutters to the floor and I almost fall scrabbling for it. The concrete cool against my skin contrasting against the blinding white pain flaring through my body as I crack my head on the table.

I hear an amused chuckle and I catch in the reflection on the steel table a look that makes my stomach do backflips, a smile so blinding it radiates through me. “BOLLOCKS” my mind screams as I realize my crush is, as always early. She smiles and flicks open a lighter she carries because I, her best friend smoke and effortlessly lights my dogeared scrag end scrounged from the floor.  For me as she orders my favorite drink from memory. I take a slow drag and start to calm though my heart is pounding, throbbing, the noise of my body echoing through my chest, over the buzzing of the air-con, over the crap bar music, even almost managing to cover up her voice.  She’s gorgeous!

I tear open the bag of crisps for us to pick at and blush, purring inwardly at each fleeting touch. We are talking about everything and nothing. I barely remember anything and yet… Yet I know her as she knows me; hopes, dreams, fears music taste, clothes and everything that makes us, well us.

And yet, she doesn’t know, she can’t know what my body and mind screams, what I desire and lust for, what I need and desire, what I am begging for each night in my single bed alone.

I mumble and blush and she asks me to speak up.  It takes me about half an hour or so it seems, the sweat pooling in my shirt as I finally get the courage to potentially destroy my relationship with my best friend. She pauses coughing in shock her eyes wide, as her heart pounds and I can see into her eyes she isn’t interested, I’m sure. I stutter blushing, grovelling my apologies. “I guess I better go.” I stand to leave pushing my chair into the table and turning away biting my lip to hold the tears a little, I move to walk away and I start heading to the door.

I’m outside swearing inside my head that I’ve blown it, starting the bike with a kick-start. Because I can vent my anger the bastard thing starts after three kicks, the engine roaring up into life, muffling my anger in smoke and sound.

As I swing my leg over the bike I hear the pannier unbuckling and I turn my head to see her slipping the helmet I bought for her use on.  She’s in her leather jacket and has her gloves on as normal. I heard the crackle of the intercom as the bike dropped slightly, her body pressed into mine. “Take me home, to our bed. Please, please tell me this is real. I couldn’t bear it if you were joking.”

My heart leaps, pounding as I opened the throttle and grinned. “My bunny.  Let’s go home.” I didn’t need the headset to hear the whoop of joy at my answer before she giggled as the bike powered through the tunnel, the front wheel flicked up with a dab of the clutch,  hearing that giggle that stopped my heart every time and feeling the familiar squeezing of her sliding her hand round my waist. I blushed, losing myself into joy and love as her hand slipped far lower than it ever had before, promising so much more than before, my world becoming so much more; more intense, more beautiful.

Butterfly Kisses- Chapter 3

Butterfly Kisses 

Chapter 3

By Cathy Brockman

Storytime Trysts does not own this image

I study the reflection carefully. He certainly isn't drop dead gorgeous but there is something about him that sends thrills through my body.

The way he looks at me as if he has never seen a woman before, like he could just devour me. I’d be scared if I didn't know that imps were harmless. Imps can be scary to look at and the way they like to cause trouble is disconcerting but as far as I know they don’t eat people or insects. I should be safe. Besides, from the bulge in his tight trousers I am pretty sure eating me as dinner is the last thing on his mind.

He must not be all Imp since he isn't entirely ugly. He does have impish features, a prominent nose and big wide mouth that takes up most of his round face. He has large round eyes that are a deep forest green. His hair is a maple brown, a little long around his face and wavy. And he is built like a brick house. Long well defined arms, big hands, strong muscular build, yum.

I decide to have a bit of fun with him and slowly start to wash myself, bending forward, my butt in the air, as I slowly wash my legs, starting at my feet working up. I keep my gaze on the reflection and watch him as he seems to be in a trance watching me.

 I would worry that he was a statue if it wasn't for the light adjustments he makes shifting from foot to foot as if he is a bit uncomfortable. If he gets much more excited I’m afraid his pants will rip from the size of that bulge. I can’t help but wonder what he looks like naked. I've never seen a nude man and I really bet this one is impressive.

I finally decide to break the ice.

“Hello Imp.” I turn around quickly.

I can’t help but chuckle as he darts behind the tree then peeks back around.

“G’day Faery.” His voice is deep and masculine.

I could listen to him talk all day.

“Come join me. The water is cool.” I playfully take a hand full and let it slide down my damp body.

He studies me closely but stays behind the tree. Surely he isn’t afraid of me.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude on your bath. I just came to fish.” The slight blush on his rugged cheeks is quite endearing.

I step onto the bank and swirl changing into a soft orange sheath instead of the barely there bikini I had on.

He steps out but stays close to the tree as if it’s some sort of refuge as he looks at me in intrigue.

“That’s cool how you can change your clothes like that.” He grins in fascination.

Oh yeah I can have a lot of fun with this one.

I finally coax him to sit and chat a bit. He is very nice.

I must intimidate men. He reminds me a bit of Obediah, shy and soft spoken. He answers my questions directly but doesn't offer much else. Getting him to open up is like pulling teeth.

We talk about the weather, the forest, and fishing. He really likes fishing. So I encourage him to teach me, not that I really want to learn to fish, but for some reason I find myself wanting to learn more about him. Especially the things that make him happy.

    I meet him back the next day and explain to him how my mother likes to meddle and tell him about the big party mom is throwing. I leave out the part where it is for me to choose a mate. I figure as shy as he is, that would definitely frighten him off. I leave still not sure whether or not he will show. Part of me hopes he does.

If you missed the first Episode you can find it here. 

Part 2 here 

The Candle

 Laying in the darkness listening to the songbirds, I thought of the life and the loves, a new relationship bursting into life, the flames and intensity of fresh passion. . . 

(Storytime does not own copyrights to this image.)

The Candle

by

Ben Hannigan

The candle flickered as the two girls ate, lit at the start of the meal they shared.  It was an anniversary, the candle a dark, rich red, unscented; the flame licking at the air as they shared the wine. The venison rare and rich, the dark chocolate truffles melting on the tongue as they talked into the night, the kisses they shared tasting of the meal and each other. One smoking a pipe the other content with the wine as they talked, the candle pressed into service to light and relight the pipe as the flame still licked at the air.

Neither remembered who kissed who first but they both remember that hunger and that pull as they moved from the chairs to the bed. The fire that pulsed through them and that heady arousal, Louise’s body a healthy tan -- that of an outdoor girl -- contrasting beautifully with Lara’s in the candlelight. Her body a squiggle of cream on the dark bedspread, her lover grinning to herself as the black silk ties contrasted against her pale wrists. Once she was bound and under her control, Louise began the slow, languid, torturous movements she favoured, nipping and licking from neck to ankles before her mouth nipping, licking, sucking and starting to devour the younger girl as some sort of dessert. The sounds her treat was making; a mix of heady gasps, whimpers and begging howls. She saw that candle still licking at the air and grinned, her hand snaking out of the bed to remove the candle from the heavy brass candelabra.

During the Raising of the candle all Lara could see was this floating tongue of flame dancing across the air, nervous and unsure what was to happen she watched from her position bound on the bed. Louise slowly, gently leaning the candle forward and they both breathless with anticipation watched the bead of wax drip off the candle. Almost in slow motion the wax hanging in the air before it splashed onto the younger girls breast, the red wax spreading and oozing before hardening. The flash of heat and pain stinging and causing indrawn gasps and whimpers of shock and desire through her, almost begging for more as the second drop landed. Her back arching and writhing as her teasing lover slowly worked the wax lower leaving a trail of redness splashed across her bare white skin. The candle moving closer, lower and lower moving inextricably towards her wetness the candle had half burned down as Louise presented what she had decided would be the last drop of wax. Lara laid there, her back arched, staring into her lovers eyes as she watched that last drop slowly fall towards her clit. The wax landing on her lithe body and engulfing her in a fire, the warmth sucking her up and into an explosion of lust and desire, as the wax cooled it bound her clit tightly in a vice-like grip squeezing her as she shook and spasmed with lust; craving anything, more, a touch, a kiss, anything to keep this going. Her mewling howls had startled Louise who smartly jerked causing the flame to splutter and die before she dived into her lover’s body peeling the now solid wax from her skin the tugging sending shudders of pleasure through Lara as she calmed.

Grinning, she dove  into the girl’s wetness once more as she begged for more, leaving her clit bound and imprisoned in this waxy tightness. Crawling up her body Louise ground into her as Lara begged for more. She whimpered with need as Louise rode her, their wet slits sliding  across each other. Testing the candle and finding it cool to the touch,  she used her weight to hold the girl down.  She pushed her virgin rosebud onto the candle, working it into her, feeling her contract and beg to be untied, beg to be kissed, and beg to wrap her arms around the woman she loved. Once, twice, three times she rocked and bounced into Louise and gasped again, screaming for more before it ended and she went limp, pressing gentle kisses across Louise’s throat, losing herself into a shaking mess of desire.

Butterfly Kisses Chapter 2

Butterfly Kisses Chapter 2

By Cathy Brockman

Storytime Trysts does not own this image

We arrive at the castle change into our more human forms. I switch into a short black strapless dress with thigh sex-me-up all night boots.

“LaRae!” Obediah grabs my arm. “Where is the cream dress.”

I chuckle and swirl switching back into the cream color dress and pretty golden sandals that lace up my calves.

“Tell me Obie, which did you really prefer.” I pull him close and whisper seductively into his ear.

“Honestly LaRae, I like this one.” He pulls away, taking my hand like a good little royal escort.

“Seriously?” I can’t help but wonder if he may be not into women.

“Yes, I like the slit up the thigh and the sandals instead of the boots. It shows so much more of that sexy leg when you walk.” I shiver at the feel his hot breath on my neck as he leans so close and whispers into my ear. OK so I guess he isn’t gay.

We reach the dining room decked in all its springtime glory. It is always beautiful but I love the transition from the icy blues of the winter decor to the soft pastels of spring. My wings ache to be released to go flutter about and explore the budding beauty waiting just outside the window. I decide a fly will be great release after one more lecture with mom about the birds and bees. I glance at Obediah and think it would be nice to practice the lesson with him.

“LaRae, must you always keep me waiting? Thank you Obediah. I shall reward you with extra honey for having to put up with this one. You may return to your hive and take a break.” She smiles sweetly at Obediah. After he leaves she turns back to me. Her smile has turned upside down.

“It is time that you grow up and except your responsibilities as a princess. It is time to come out of your cocoon.” She takes a sip of her nectar.

“Mom. Be more specific. I have lots of responsibilities to assume which one is it you are harping on today?” I roll my eyes as if I don’t already know.

Her favorite subject lately is me mating. Giving her lots of pretty little caterpillars to control, I mean spoil.

“By the way, you look lovely today.” I’m not lying. She always is beautiful with her long yellow hair and buttery soft wings. I must get most of my coloration from my father.

“Thank you but you’re not getting off by changing the subject. It is time you choose your mate or I will choose one for you. I am going to throw a party this weekend, Sunday morning you will give me your choice and at the farewell banquet we will announce your decision, or I will announce mine.”

“But mom! A weekend isn’t time to get to know someone! It takes time to fall in love!”

“No buts. This love fantasy of yours is for the doves. You’re a princess. You have beauty, power, money, and the world to offer. What man wouldn’t love that?” She says with finality.

“I want them to love me, not my money, or power, or even my looks.” I push back my plate of fruit and flower petals, no longer hungry.

I know who I want but after years Obediah still barely looks at me. I doubt I can win him over in a weekend if I haven’t in all these years. Heck we were practically raised together.

With resignation I decide I will have to move on. But how do I find someone to love me in just a few days? I swirl and transform into a butterfly and flit out the window to go to my favorite waterfall and think.

The happy gurgling sounds of the stream beckon me from miles away. I can feel the cool spray of the falls on my skin. I can vision myself laying on a smooth flat rock, the sun a warm caress on my damp body after a dip. I can feel the golden sand between my bare toes. I can smell the soft scent of the water- lilies. Finally I see it the beauty breathtaking as always.

I flutter over the beach and pause above a shallow part of the stream. I start to swirl in a kaleidoscope of color as I twirl and twist. Creamy golden wings and a smooth black body soon becomes a long mane of silky black hair swinging in the breeze, floating around, wrapping around my pale bare body. I relish the peace here. I walk to the falls and wash my hair, plucking a Lilly blossom; I slowly begin to wash my cool aching body. The flight felt like a long one.

After a nice long shower under the cool flow of the falls I walk along the stream, kicking and frolicking. Oh how I love this place. My home away from home. No mom breathing down my neck. Just me and the precious gifts form Mother Nature herself. And an Imp? Looking up at the falls I see a rippled refection that seems to be gazing longingly at me. Or Gawking.

If you missed the first Episode you can find it here. 

Chocolate Love

 Are you ready for a tasty treat?  Why not dive into some Godiva or Ghiradelli's? This girl loves her chocolate. Why don't you read while I check on the subbie?

Storytime does not own this image. 

 

 Chocolate Love 

by 

Ben Hannigan 

 

The girl grinned to herself as she dipped her toe into the bath.  It was warm and offered no real resistance to her entrance. It was perfect. She had one hundred and ninety minutes to prepare and she would need every last one.

She checked that that A4 size plaster on her lower back was still in place and smiled to herself before she slowly slid her toes into the melted chocolate mess. This was a special formula that would coat the body, but would dry to an almost lycra like finish meaning that she could still walk and move whilst covered from head to toe in this rich delicacy. It was a recipe designed for the gold dancers and the human statues who appeared to be plated, the plaster there to stop her from mimicking the Bond girl, suffocated by her own skin.

Slowly, gracefully, she slid down into the bath and set a timer before she began to lose her mind. The liquid was warm. That comfortable engulfing warmth that soothes a woman to slumber, but with that warmth was something new, something intense, the feel of the chocolate definitely not like water. The ripples and waves caused by her movements lapping at every sensitive area of her body. The back of her knee kissed gently, her nipples as they sunk under the waterline, a hot wet mouth sucking at her, engulfing her in a gentle way. The ripples around her wet slit were much more intense.  The ripples a rolling tongue lapping at her hungrily as she spread her legs needing, craving more. The chocolate soaking into her skin, feeling like she was almost dissolved into the liquid.  This warm dark mouth consuming her body and soul.

She lay there for minutes, or maybe hours, she wasn’t sure but what she did know, the only thing she knew at that moment was the feel of the chocolate coating becoming tacky, her body absorbing until it was saturated. The chocolate conforming to her delicate form, sheathing each toe, each finger and each raised bump on her body. She blinked and gasped in shock. “FUCK FUCK FUCK” she screamed, losing her voice into a breathy howl as her body, outside of her control, now rocked up into the air. This rolling movement sucking the now solid blocks of confection that filled her wet folds, as she rocked up and into this new finger of chocolate that had filled every contour of her willing cunt, she bounced back onto the bottom of the bath, feeling the shock of the toy in her backdoor that was shaped to strike every erogenous zone.

What started as a treat and a tease for her lover had become some exquisite torture. Her whole body on fire and used by this candy lover. Her spasms rocketing through her legs allowing her to hook the bath plug cord and feel the mouths on her cunt, her clit, and nipples becoming so much more intense. The draining adding a hard, rough, sucking to the fucking she was so eager for. The bath empty she slumped drained on the stained white plastic panting heavily. Looking lazily at the timer she had set she had another ninety minutes to recover her strength and shake off the afterglow, assembling the bows and bindings and stepping into the cellophane wrap cut the day before. She grinned as she looked forward to being bound in position, legs together tied by an elegant bow, hands placed demurely at first glance, covering her sex. Revealing only on closer inspection the location of the pressure of the heel of the palm, painting an expression of naked desire on her chocolate painted face. She imagined the delicious torture of being sat waiting, riding the chocolate toys with just a subtle clench as the treat dried harder on her skin eventually binding and setting rock hard.

She wanted everything, wanted it all.  The faint pressure and constriction of the ribbon at her throat, the chocolate dried hard almost painfully binding her clit. The toys sat blocking her entrances, appearing that she was cast of chocolate. Standing she carefully applied the white chocolate accents, the lips painted with a brush, the lashes done gently and the hint of the soft peach-fuzz thatch at her crotch dusted with the dark cocoa powder appearing as stubble expertly applied by the confectioner. Her nails white chocolate, long and elegant. Finally she decided she was ready and she went and sat on the bed, all bows and ribbons. A short sharp blast of sexual pleasure as she pulled the ribbon just tight enough to make her breathing something to enjoy. Her eyes bright with submissive lust as she pulled the cellophane up and around her like a tent, She was finally ready, all she had to do now was wait. Wait and hope she didn’t pass out from desire. Struck by that notion she finally remembered, as the world went fuzzy at the edges to yank the plaster off, immediately the pressure at her chest eased as she scooted back hiding the giveaway patch of bare white skin. 

She waited, nervous, the last thing running through her mind was “All women like chocolate right? So a chocolate covered submissive should be ok, right?” Overcome with worry and arousal she waited for her mistress to come home.