Butterfly Ch 02 1

A week passed reasonably uneventfully, catching up with family and the usual things that happen when on overseas holidays. My mind never strayed far from the previous weekend, when the amazing young woman with her butterfly belt did incredible things to my mind.

The day of the wedding arrives and I am tingling as I get myself ready. I take extra care getting myself sorted, pulling up my long white socks, ensuring my red flashes are just right, fixing my cuff links, just so, my large belt clasped correctly over my quite dashing kilt. I hesitate, do I do this properly, underwear or not? I decide, it's quite a nice day, no need to spoil tradition, I grin to myself.

I know this delightful young girl will be attending, but I wonder to myself, was it just a one off, a flight of fancy perhaps, something risqué‚ as a result of a few extra glasses of champagne? Time will tell I guess, never the less I feel rather good about myself hanging free in the wind as I walk to the wedding.

The wedding turned out to be a very nice affair, the bride and groom very happy, tea and cakes in the garden afterwards, sun shining, and beautiful green lawns. I pass the time after the ceremony making small talk with various guests and relatives, my delightful butterfly floats past, gracing me with a soft kiss on the cheek, but giving me no indication as to whether last week was a one off. Some time passes, champagne comes out and people mingle happily together. I end up playing with some kids, racing across the grass, through various mazes in the garden. I notice my butterfly girl is also quite happily playing with some children, I wonder if a discrete meeting may occur. She continues to be aloof though, happy to raise a cheeky eye brow but not giving me much indication.

I round the corner of the maze in hot pursuit of a young boy who has taken a liking to me and enjoys being thrown in the air. There standing illuminated in a ray of sunshine is my butterfly. She is standing hand on hip, her eye brow cocked! My thoughts of tickling my young prize now thoroughly distracted. Her brown eyes sparkle as she grins at me. I am stunned like a deer in the headlights.

"Well, are you going to kiss me then?" she says

My face lights up as I gather her in my arms, our lips come together. Soft, sensual, our lust unabated, our tongues meet. My hands reach around to feel her delightfully pert bottom.

"Are you going to catch me?" a little voice says as the little boy pulls at my kilt.

We disengage in a fluster; I disguise my embarrassment by swiftly chasing off after the little boy. The feel of the wind under my kilt sending tingles through my body. This little nymph has truly captured my interest.

Luckily there are a number of exits from the maze, we manage to leave discretely enough, and unfortunately I am unable to catch her for a few hours. We make our way to the dining hall, via the various mandatory wedding photo opportunities along the way.

Somewhere along the way, my wonderful butterfly discretely delivers, via an emissary a flight size bottle of nice Scotch whisky, fitting to her profession and my attire I think.

"Apparently Dutch courage works with Scottish liquor too!" I think as I find myself standing behind her during the group photo, my hands gently playing with her body through the soft material of her dress. I can feel her smooth skin, the curve of her glorious buttocks; I trace the line of her G string as it delves between her butt cheeks. I bless the luck of my sporran, suppressing the tell tail signs of my growing erection. Photos finish way too soon.

As luck has it we are seated quite close during the dinner so we are able to make idle chit chat. I am engrossed in a discussion about photography with her husband when I feel my kilt moving under its own volition. I realize my temptress is nowhere to be seen. Petite hands brush against the exposed skin under my kilt. I try and suppress my surprise and glimpse under the table, she grins at me. Thankfully the long table cloths prevent anyone else seeing under the table as she is reaching up under my kilt along my inner thigh. This is killing me. I'm trying to talk to her husband about matters photographic whilst her delicate hands find my already hard member. Thankfully he is engrossed in discussing a recent trip, as I stifle a gasp, her lips now tracing kisses along my leg, whilst one hand is stroking me. I have lost focus on the current topic. All resources are focused upon my groin.

"I said, have you seen my wife?" he asks me, apparently for the second time. Clearly I am not focused on anything other than what is happening to me discretely under the table.

"Ummm, bathroom I think..." I respond.

"I'll go find her then, speeches soon." he says

I murmur something in response as I lose control and try ever so discretely to cover the fact that I am having a noiseless orgasm, my seed being pumped into his wife's willing mouth. Luckily he has already turned away. No one else seems to notice, or pay attention to her as she sits up having recovered her napkin that she had dropped on the floor. She discretely wipes the corner of her mouth with it, a glint in her eye.

We still have the dancing during the evening to cover; I'll make that the next chapter

To be continued...