The Cries of the Butterfly - A LOVE STORY (22 page)

His shirt came off and he flung it to the soil.

This was the first she was seeing him,
really
seeing him, and she inhaled deeply (back then in her bedroom, it had been too dark for her to see anything much). She recognized she was looking not just at the world’s top moviestar, but also the world’s sexiest man alive—voted so for the last four years (including the last two, when he had practically withdrawn from the public eye after the great Butcher tragedy) by ‘People’ and ‘Glamour’ magazines. Like his face, here was a beautiful male body,
like a Greek god’s.
She had of course seen him in the movies, but seeing him in dynamic 3D and so up-close and personal was wholly different.

He began pulling off his jeans and Savannah gasped and for an instant shut her eyes.

He turned toward her now and dumped the denim near his shirt. He looked at her, somewhat warily, and somehow she looked up again and managed to hold his gaze. He still had his underwear on and appeared unwilling to part with it. She realized her arms were still covering her chest and her thighs were crossed, and she didn’t know what next to do. Then finally, he began taking his underwear off.

Suddenly weak, Savannah turned her face away, no longer able to look. She felt almost winded. She wished she could sit down, but found herself frozen on her feet. Then she felt something and she looked down. There was a curious moistness between her thighs.
Holy Mary!
Furiously embarrassed, she began running wildly—across the sand and toward the ocean.

.

B
ut that wasn’t the end of it.

It was past one pm when they finally quit the waters. Exhausted, they lay gasping on the beach, spread-eagled on the wet sand, the waves breaking on their hair, their limbs carelessly thrown over each other.

After some time, Savannah quietly rolled over and cuddled up to Wolf. And he instinctively put his arm around her.

It was a while before anyone spoke.

“Wolf?”

“Yah, baby?”

“You know what?”

“What?”

“I can feel something,” she said.

“Uh?”

“Yes. Can you too?”

“No,” he said.

“Try again.”

Her hand was on his shaft and she began gently caressing it. She felt it stir and soon it was growing in her palm. She moved her fingers up and down and felt his veins begin to pulsate. She placed the tip of her forefinger on the slit of his penis and felt a drop of glueyness. For a second, she pulled her hand back and looked at her finger. Softly she kissed it. Then her hand was back on him. She could feel his quickened breath; his body was hot. She looked at him and saw his eyes were shut and his lips slightly parted.

The moistness between her legs was back and she was truly flowing now. Her fluids mixed with the salty sea water and formed a curious concoction around her crotch. Her grip around his shank tightened. As if in response, he throbbed in her hand. She shifted a little and ran her other hand between his legs, feeling his scrotum. The testicles stiffened at her touch, sort-of shrinking, and she felt such a protective urge that she clasped them delicately in her palm, as if they were her most fond jewels.

Her heart was thumping now, her breath shallow and quick, the blood sizzling in her veins. Her stomach was tight and finally she could take it no more. Withdrawing her hand from his testicles, but keeping the other one firmly around his shaft, she threw one leg over him. She shifted her torso and was atop him, her breasts pressing down on his hard chest. Her nipples were gorged and as they mashed down on him, they stung. But it was an exquisite pain and she bit her lower lip.

As she sought his mouth, he opened his eyes.

For a long moment they stared at each other and whether it was his utter vulnerability or whatever else, something abruptly clicked in Savannah’s head. She gave an agonized cry of distress and rolled off him.

She lay next to him, panting, tortured by the effort of pulling back.

No, Wolf Butcher, no! What you have is priceless and I value it a great, great deal.

She sat up and hugged her knees and rested her forehead on the kneecaps. There was a deep empty feeling in her stomach. But she knew she had done the right thing.

She felt a hand on her bare back, but didn’t look up.

“Let’s go get something to eat.” His voice was small and throaty and she knew it was equally tough for him.
Four more days,
she told herself.
Just four.
And then… He was on his feet and she looked up now, then reached out to him, and he pulled her up.

.

T
hey went to the north tip of the island and ate at ‘Sharib’, a restaurant near the airport, Wolf restored to his camouflage.

They sat next to each other and held hands under the table while they waited to be served. Their bodies touched and when once Savannah shifted a little to adjust her dress, he quickly pressed in so they were back in contact. Savannah smiled and pushed back into him and he squeezed her hand under the table.

It was nearly three-thirty pm when they exited the restaurant.

“Let’s go back to
our
beach, Wolf. It’s such a lovely place,” she said.

He nodded immediately.

“And let’s call it ‘Wolf and Sav Beach’,” she added. “Our very own private paradise.”

“No, let’s call it ‘Sav and Wolf Beach’,” he said.

She laughed. “Alright.”

This time around they didn’t go into the water. They’d had their day’s fill and instead settled down on the sand under the same coconut palm where earlier they had shed their clothes.

“What you say, we take off our clothes. It’s so freeing,” he proposed.

But she shook her head firmly. “No, it’s too difficult,” she said somberly. Then inhaling deeply, she added, “But cometh Sunday, baby, you watch.”

“Oh, really?”

“Oh, yeah. And we’ll come back here and sanctify this place with our passion. Nothing can hold us back thereafter.”

“Devout thoughts,” he said, nodding his head gravely.

He sat with his back to the tree’s bark, his legs spread out in a ‘V’ before him, and Savannah nestled herself in that fork. He wound his arms around her belly and she threw her head back and rested it on his shoulder. Every now and then she would nonchalantly push back with her buttocks and feel his shaft through his pants. She presumed it was semi-hard and sometimes she wished she could turn around and push her hand in and grab it. But then she would take a deep breath. Mary, it was so tough though.

All evening they stayed like that, pressed into each other, chatting sporadically, with extended bouts of complete silence…just experiencing each other, bonding quietly, the bond deepening by the minute, a bond that would last a lifetime…perhaps even beyond. In between, they would kiss, and kiss for minutes together.

Around six, Savannah budged. She lay down on the sand and snuggled her head in Wolf’s lap. For a while, she watched the radiant blue sky rapidly turning crimson and the tirelessly rolling ocean. Then she turned her attention to her man, her man who would soon be her husband, and she felt an outpouring of pure happiness, that she had so often felt during the day. For a long time she regarded him, then finally contented, for the moment, she shut her eyes, a smile scattering across her face. She felt his fingers on her lips and automatically her mouth opened and she began to lightly suckle on them.

When finally they rose, it was near dark.

They went back to the city and hungry again, they fed at an eatery, then caught a late night flick, holding hands all the time, not willing to let go of the other even for an instant. Post-movie, they moved around the empty city streets in the Hummer, still holding on to each other, not wanting this moment to ever end, as if, if it did, it would somehow be the end for them.

But finally they had to call it a night and Wolf dropped Savannah home. It was a little past two am and she felt as if she was being torn apart from her very essence. They hugged one final time, tight, real tight, and when they parted, their eyes were moist. But Wolf smiled at her and patted her cheek and it became bearable.

She got into the elevator and as it rose to her apartment she nevertheless began to weep in her heart. It hurt. Just a night of separation, but it still hurt. The day had affected her unimaginably.

He called her right away on reaching home and they talked for another half hour. She felt better now. She would be seeing him in the morning, and then suddenly she had an inspiration.
Dream of him. Fantasize,
she told herself,
and of our time together, and the night will soon roll over.

She was fast asleep, when the ringing of the fixed-line telephone cut through the exquisite clouds around her head and jolted her back to consciousness. She bolted up and for a while just sat there on the bed, wild eyed, her heart thumping. And when comprehension finally settled in, when she was fully awake, her first thought was
Wolf!
But instead of feeling elation, a curious dread gripped her. She stared at the humming instrument in panic, some deep womanly instinct telling her that it was about to deliver the deathblow.

THE
voice was low and distant, almost mechanical, and she barely recognized it, and when she did, she barely could decipher the words.

She pressed the receiver to her ear. “Wolf?” she said breathlessly. “Is that you?”

“Yes… Check your mail. Now.” His voice was strained, almost croaky.

What mail?
What was he talking about? She tossed her head and looked at the wall clock. It was four-forty-two am and at first Savannah thought this was Wolf’s idea of a prank. But then she noted the voice again and knew this was no joke and something was wrong—very wrong.

“What’re you talking about?” she demanded. “What mail? Can’t it wait till morning? For Mary’s sakes, Wolf, look at the time!”

The voice from the other end speared through her like an ice dagger. “Just check your e-mail. Do it now!” And the line expired. A chill pierced her heart. For a long instant, she just sat there, coagulated, her mind not working. Finally, she forced herself to swallow, then she dragged herself out of the bed. Wide awake now, she walked to the living room, where the laptop was.

There were twenty-eight letters, mostly spam, but her interest was Wolf’s mail.

The message was curt.

‘Check out the link below.’

She automatically clicked on it.

In a flash, a homepage opened. Savannah caught her breath in a fitful gasp and almost passed out.

.

W
olf Butcher clicked on the link: http://www.butterflylass.net

The Homepage opened quickly. In the center was a small picture of a theater stage with a drawn curtain. The message on the top of the page read, ‘Ann Escort’. Below the picture was the link:
enter

It opened to another page. The background of this page was black and the words fittingly white. The heading, in Arial 11, read:

Welcome to Ann, First Class Escort in New Halcyon

And below it was a picture and text. The text said:

Hi, my name is Ann.

I am situated in that paradisiacal island city-state of New Halcyon. I am 26 years old, 5 feet 4 tall, very attractive, with a fabulous slim, athletic figure. I have blue eyes, long brown hair and silky smooth skin.

As a well-dressed, intelligent lady with natural conversational skills and a good personality, I am therefore the ideal partner for those special events or functions, theater or dinners, when you need a companion to accompany you. Discretion is 100% assured as you would expect, and is expected in return.

For anyone who would enjoy a more relaxed format, I am able to join you for a couple of drinks (although I do not myself drink…however, coffee would do well), a show or movie, some sightseeing, a workout, a swim or I could even join you for a pizza :)

The face was almost obscured, but Wolf felt his stomach cramp cruelly, as if it had been suddenly clasped in a vise. There was no mistaking who the person was.

There were five other links: ‘Gallery’ – ‘Rates’ – ‘FAQ’ – ‘Contact’ – ‘Links’.

Almost automatically, he clicked on the ‘Gallery’ link.

Six pictures, again all with faces fogged out. He stared at them unbelievingly, feeling goosebumps fizzing down the center of his back. After a while, he went to some other links.

Finally, Wolf moved away from the laptop and staggered to the washroom. He bent over the sink, his head hanging limp over the bowl. It reeled—his head, and he thought he was going to go sick. He could vaguely feel his legs trembling and he went down on his knees, holding onto the rim of the washbasin for support. He remained like that for a long time, only half aware of his surroundings.