The Butterfly Sex Tease

I'm an asshole even in bed, but they love it. She loves it. It's been awhile since I've had so much fun in bed that I think karma is beginning to blow over it's grudge with me and finally let me off the hook. If you read this and you start smiling to yourself because the memory of it still lingers in you, then it's either because,

a) You've fucked me before.
b) You want to fuck me.
c) You've fucked someone like that before, when you really should be fucking me.

Except for the bed giving way during our make out, nothing disastrous has managed to wedge itself into the limelight, yet. So why am I writing? Dichotomy, dear Padawans. The extremes of matters are always worth my time to ink memories to words. This is not my usual laugh a line story. This one I'm writing because everything about it is so carnal, libidinous and vulgar yet none of it left the confines of the role play.

Sexual maturity maybe? I've had none. I won't lie to you, my sex life is cursed, you can read about it. I am the Marshal of all Sex Fuck Ups, bow before me and envy nothing for I give you nothing but content for your own lives, even if you are a virgin. To the armchair playas, vicarious living is now worth every minute of it now that you've stumbled onto my blog. Sit back, read and prepare to wank off and tell me you love me. Just don't do it simultaneously.

"Fuck me..." She whispers faintly to me, lying spread on her back with me 3 inches from her face.

Me: "I'll think about it."

Yes, I'm an asshole. Even in bed. I've never given girls want they want, not at least until I've made them work for it. Yet everything about her was so sexy. The way she stared into me, the way she commanded me, the way she pulled me closer.. everything.

She: "Fuck me! You asshole..."

She grips me tighter, trying to inch me closer to her.

Me: "I'll fuck you when I want to fuck you..."

I pull myself away. Our eyes both filled with enough comtempt to accuse eunuchs of anal sex. There was that vexative gaze in her brimming with disgruntlement for my 'licentiousness' on vanlla sex. That was the sight I fed on, the slightest validation of my dominance over her. Call it erotic dysfunctionalism, but I wanted to be the prize. I am the prize.

There was insouciance in my words, yet my touch never waivered far from passion. She knew this well, and this understanding was paramount for this verbal foreplay to climax.

She: "Fuck you.. you fucker.."

Her voice faint with resentment. I smiled. So did she.

That was the calm before the storm. Then we exploded onto each other, two voracious addicts over a single utopia, orgasm.

The vulgarity and carnal pleasantries between us had eroded. My tease had served it's purpose for now. Desire, and my impatience to fuck had marred my initial plan to play out the tease a little longer. I now had to bait my cherry, doth it upon her lips like a kiss, but attribute no permanence to it.

She pulls me closer to kiss. I shake her off.

She: "Kiss me..."

Me: "No..."

She pulls me in again. I press my palm against her chest, forcing her back onto the bed. Her eyes widen at my actions, almost as a warning to the consequences of it.

She: "I want to kiss you..."

Me: "Fuck you.. I said No"

She shifts herself violently as I continue to pin her done with my left arm. She struggles, tilting her head to the side in a valiant effort to bite me. Futile effort that begins to tire her. She stares into me again, with that same contempt laden eyes that had pierced me only minutes ago.

She: "You FUCKER..."

Me: "I'll fucking kiss you when you deserve it.."

And the tease went on. Neither would I allow her to kiss me, nor permit her to hit erotic jackpot. I'd tease, give her enough till she tells me not to stop, then drop her like a bad habit. I kept her frustrated at me, I was being a total asshole but I knew what I was doing. The caged animal is always the fiercest. There's alot pent up sexual frustration is capable of, I'm merely milking it for a taste to keep me full for the week ahead.

She: "Fuck you! Who said you could stop...."

Me: "I'll fuck you when I want to.. I stop because I want to. I never said you could cum."

She: "Fuck you.."

And that was how the game went. Naturally she got smart after awhile and would pretend she hadn't climax, though sometimes her convulsions gave it away. She'd laugh at my face after I stopped, bask in her moment of conquest for beating me at my game, then inadvertantly fall before my next tease.

I stroke her, tease my entry, then hurl insults at her. The tease was beginning to be a vicious cycle of an expletive contest, one with the absence of pride. The confines of sex as a game, a tease is one that has to be played without ego. Pride, is only a word before even the mighty fall before me.

She'd tease me, ride me, do anything in her to rain vengeance upon me. She was seasoned, eager to please and complemented me perfectly in bed. Sex was great, but nothing escapes my wrath.

Me: "Fuck you.. Is that the best you can do?!"

She stops, for a moment looking like a wounded animal. Perhaps that last comment was the straw that broke the camel's back. If you can't take a joke, you should never be around me. Verbal abuse during sex should be like water off a duck's back. But she knew me well. She smiles...

She: "Yes, I'm tired.."

I sit up, half attempting to tear away at her clothes, half keeping my balance. She pushes my hands off her chest and again when I move it within proximity.

She: "You'll have to fuck me with my clothes on..."

I furtively attempt it again, distracting her between trust and kisses. Stealth is not my game obviously.

She: "I said NO!"

The tables had turned. I now thread unfamiliar ground, the baited butterfly fluttering around the forbidden fruit. I lie her down beside me.

Me: "I'll just shoot it all over your skirt.. your shirt.."
She: "NO!"

Me: "Like I give a fuck..."

I prone over her, supporting my weight on my arms, close enough for a whisper, close enough for her to feel my breath. Then I plant my intentions of regaining that dominance. Slowly, I coax and tease. She closes her eyes, gratified at the apparent taming of a butterfly. Finally, I'm granting her hedonism. Then I stop.

Me: "That's it.."

I pull out and walk off. Oh I've been blueballed before don't get me wrong, but this is by no means revenge. This is just foreplay...

The Butterfly's foreplay.