Archive-name: Bestial/buttrfly.txt Archive-author: Archive-title: Butterfly He climbed to the top of the shallow hill, found a suitable spot under a banyan tree and sat down, facing the valley. from here, he could see up the valley to where the hills curved slowly to the right; the glittering trail of the river running along the bottom of the flattened v-shape. nearby, he could see thousands of shades of green in the foliage; distance gradually reduced these to a lush, verdant shade, which he saw as the epitome of rich, vibrant life; he could imagine that this was the sort of jungle which could suffer almost total defoliation and regrow within two months, stronger than before. he entertained a mild fantasy of the jungle growing through the nearby developing city, lianas insinuating themselves in windows and down drains, along conduits, tearing the buildings apart and bringing the territory back to the primal state from which it had been wrested. He reached out idly and snapped the dry, brown end off a vine which dangled overhead, popped it in his mouth and chewed it. he had no idea what it was (there were thousands of undiscovered and unnamed plants in this area), but within a few minutes he felt the effect which the locals had described; a loose, boneless relaxation, a dizzy detachment from his sense of physical presence which abruptly vanished, giving a feeling as if he had been dumped back into his body. this was the third time he'd tried it, and this time, he began to feel it - a definite sensation of arousal. smiling to himself, he undid his jeans and slid them off, followed by his underpants, and sat in the shade of the tree, eyes closed, with no particular impulse to masturbate towards orgasm; he was content to sit there and enjoy the feeling. his sense of feeling became more pronounced; he could feel the individual ridges of bark on his back, could identify single blades of grass tickling his side, and the feeling of the cool breeze stirring his pubic hair was enough to make him want to spend the rest of his life there. the sounds of insects and birds faded into the background, and for a moment, he was suspended in a timeless pulse, in which he felt that he was a small part of the convoluted, infinitely varied life around him. when the feeling passed, he couldn't say how long it had lasted; his sadness at what he saw as a return to his mundane physical state was slightly tempered by the slowly mounting feeling of arousal. he shifted slightly, moving from his sitting position against the tree to lie flat on the ground, his head supported slightly by a hummock of grassy ground which covered one of the tree's massive roots. he stretched, arms folded behind his head, relishing the feeling as his erection waved in the cool air, and began an exercise which he'd learned from an associate, a professional deviate in Cartagena, which involved rhythmic contractions of the perineal muscles. with each pulse, his cock shifted upward toward his belly, the timing of the pulses stretching out until he was holding the muscles clenched, his penis quivering with the effort. slowly, he relaxed, his penis shifting downward to orient upwards; he waited for the space of six breaths and began again. he found the motion of his penis as it dropped back wonderfully stimulating, and so he spread the timing of the pulses until his erection was moving back and forth like a metronome. Growing bored with this after about ten minutes, he decided to see how long he could keep it in one position; he carefully tensed until it was pointing at about forty-five degrees, and then held it there. this required a great deal of concentration, and to his surprise, the quivering of the muscles around his groin seemed to be slowly bringing him to a climax. as he maintained that attitude, the feeling wavered just short of orgasm. A tickling sensation on the head of his penis almost made him lose his concentration. he glanced down and received a mild shock when he saw that a large butterfly had landed. It exposed its beautifully coloured wings - which must have been at least fifteen centimetres across - and then turned around to face him, balancing artfully on the underside of his shaft, waving its wings slowly. with an effort, he kept as still as possible and examined it. From the underside, the neon colours of its wings were muted, but still striking; its forelegs gripped the head of his penis, its feathery antennae pointing out like a handlebar moustache, each one dipping slightly in turn, almost as if it were slowly waggling its eyebrows at him. The effort involved in keeping his erection motionless diminished slightly, and once the quivering in his muscles faded, the butterfly seemed assured of a steady perch and it crawled forward until its wings were held out parallel to the ground, a delicately jewelled parasol. after being on the point of climax for the past two minutes, he suddenly found himself having to stave off orgasm; if he came, he'd drench the butterfly, or at the very least, make it look for a more stable landing pad. he closed his eyes and bit his lip with the effort; he had almost overcome the feeling and had opened his eyes, only to see the butterfly extend its spiral tongue and dip it into the slit at the end of his penis, to drink the salty fluid which had gathered in a droplet there. the hesitant, tickling touch pushed him over the edge, and he came, his penis jerking upwards spasmodically, drops of come shooting up to land on his chest and belly, gradually falling closer to his groin with each pulse. the final spasm pushed a stream of pale fluid out to run down the top of his shaft. amazingly, the butterfly had hung on throughout the ride, wings waving erratically as it kept its balance; it crawled further forward to dart its tongue into the liquid which was still emerging. he watched in amazement as it drank, occasionally arching its wings back and then folding them down to cover the head of his penis, all the while coiling and uncoiling its tongue. after about two minutes of this, his erection began to subside; possibly sensing this, the butterfly dipped both antennae in what he imagined to be a jaunty gesture of thanks, carefully turned around (the tickling sensation of its sharply terminated feet almost inspiring another erection), flapped its wings twice and departed. he followed its path as it moved through the air, dodging drunkenly around the branches of the banyan, until it was hidden by the masses of foliage which grew in collusion with the tree. --