The Blue Butterfly

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Adrienne at the Opera

It was a ritual with her. Inevitably, Wednesday afternoons would find Adrienne at the Opera for the matinee performance. She held a season ticket — only one seat, an end seat; at times she wished she had someone to share her love for opera, but she didn’t really mind going alone, actually, she told herself, she preferred it. At this season’s premiere she was surprised to find the seat was next to hers was occupied by someone new – a handsome young man with a shock of blond hair. Always impeccably groomed and dressed in well-tailored suits, after awhile he would greet her with a smile and maybe a nod as he took his seat. Just that silent greeting, yet she caught the look of appraisal that swept over her, noticed the approval in his sparkling blue eyes, and she wondered if she blushed in the dimly lit theater.

Today, his seat was noticeably empty with only a few minutes to the overture. She looked around the hall to see if he was making his way down the aisle. She suddenly realized that she would actually be disappointed if he didn’t show up. But then she caught a glimpse of his blond hair as he rushed in to take his seat at the last minute. He gave her his familiar nod, just as the orchestra was launching into the first powerful notes of Aida. Adrienne returned his smile, and as the lights went down, settled back with a strange feeling of relief.

The composed, elegant woman smoothed back a wave of thick dark hair, folded her gloved hands demurely in her lap, and crossed her slim stockinged legs, allowing her silvery dress to ride up in the process. She automatically moved to righten the errant hem, but hesitated, deciding on a wicked impulse to leave it be laying much too high across on her nyloned thigh. Would the handsome stranger notice ... her seductive ploy?

She was aware of his presence, achingly aware; a male presence so close, in dark just beside her. And she quickened when she sensed him shift closer, leaning towards her, their arms almost touching. It was well into the first act when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a movement in the shadows. His hand had moved from the armrest between them, dropping down on her side. The fingertips touch her leg! By accident?

A sharp gasp escaped her parted lips, and she held herself still, aware of a tingling in her body. Had she really felt his touch? Perhaps it was an inadvertent gesture. But he made no move to pull back or to murmur an apology. No, instead the audacious hand moved more boldly now, the fingers sliding over to come to rest lightly on her leg. She looked down with detached curiosity at the masculine hand resting on her stocking. The girl sat paralyzed, unable to move. She knew she should do something, anything to react to his uninvited touch: twist away, firmly but politely remove the hand that was making her warmer by the minute. But she didn’t know what to do. So she did nothing. Her mind was in turmoil, she shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye, but the man was facing straight ahead, his blond face calm and passive, as though he were detached from the hand that rested so lightly on her nyloned thigh. Part of her mind screamed that she must do something!

Yet she sat there, holding herself perfectly still, sucking in a long shivering breath when the audacious hand suddenly began to move, slowly sliding along the sheer nylon till the palm could curve to fit itself to the rounded contour of her right knee. In the dark, the elegant young woman bit down on her lip and waited, super-alert; every fiber of her body tense, expectant. But the slow-moving hand stopped, settled there. He seemed content to let it rest there, protectively cupping her right knee while the two of them sat together, side by side in the darkness, watching the first act unfold. The music was building in power. The warmth of his touch was growing; the hot masculine hand resting comfortably curved to fit her knee, a source of radiant heat that suffused through her whole body.

Adrienne trembled, alive to the man’s touch, savoring the warm stirrings that cupped hand generated... wanting more. She glanced over at him, but his face was bland, his eyes on the stage as if totally engrossed by the performance. It was as though he was unaware that his hand rested with such proprietary intent on her right knee. And so the two opera-goers sat like that, letting the tension build until, with the knot of anticipation tightening in Adrienne’s belly. Now, in a moment of madness, she boldly took matters into her own hands. She reached down to place a hand on his. He tensed. Had he gone too far? Was she about to deliberately remove his hand from its coveted resting place? But this astonishment, she gave his hand an affectionate squeeze and then began to move it higher, guiding the hand upward on her thigh, silently inviting the man to continue his slow, sensuous journey of discovery.

When his hand was at the hem of her dress, she seemed content to let him continue on his own, easing up along the smooth silky expanse. Adrienne quivered, scarcely daring to breathe when his fingers kept on going, nosing right under the hem of her thin silvery dress. Through half-lidded eyes she looked down to watch the inexorable progress of that slow hand as it eased back the hem, creeping under the slippery fabric, then moving more confidently, recklessly, as though it didn’t matter in the least that she was being exposed; the nyloned length of an exquisitely-shaped thigh steadily uncovered in the darkness of the theater. She felt his fingertips glide up the slick stocking, sampling the feel of that smooth firmly packed nylon, sliding back the slippery dress and the lacy-edged slip she wore underneath to reveal practically all of Adrienne’s attractive legs.

Swiftly, purposefully, the cupped hand moved along the sculpted contour of the newly uncovered thigh, burrowing right up under her dress and slip, inching its way upward till the tented hand had uncovered the entire lengths of those mouth-watering limbs from her nyloned haunches to the pointed toes of her high-heeled pumps.

That warm masculine hand was making her hot with unbearable s****l heat; a delicious tingling electrified her as his fingertips drew slow circles on the top of her thigh. She let her head fall back, vaguely aware that her dress had been pushed back all the way by now, rucked up across her lap like a shameless w***e’s. She knew that beyond the banded tops of her thigh-high stockings her panties were exposed. She was beyond all caring. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, then exhaled a long shuddering breath.

Drifting helplessly, the young woman could do nothing but yield, falling back limp, surrendering to the warm waves of pleasure. The wonderful hand dipped between her thighs; decisive fingers curved around the sloping inner-thigh to cradle her top leg. Digging his fingers into the soft flesh, he gripped her firmly, hefting her leg, lifting it up and over, leaving her totally undone; slack legs fell open, knees widespread, leaving her in wanton, wicked abandon.

The stranger took his time, savoring the feel of that nyloned leg, testing its firmness, its resiliency; squeezing, stroking, running the pads of his fingertips along the gauzy warm nylon. Those slow hands were making love to her lovely legs. He felt the attractive young woman quicken, stiffening under his touch as his fingertips lingered along the insides of her warm, rapidly moistening thighs, tracing lazy circles on the slick nylon.

Inquisitive fingers slid all the way up the Adrienne’s thigh over the elastic band at the top of the stocking and onto the flesh he found beyond the nylon, flesh so soft and smooth and silky. Now his fingertips encountered the leg of her panties, a tiny ridge of elasticized lace. A single finger traced the curvature of the arching leg-band as it dipped down the gentle slope of the inner thigh into the moist heat high up between Adrienne’s shifting legs. She bit down on her curled lip, but kept her head rigidly forward; her eyebrows arched up, and her pretty eyes widened appreciably as his probing fingers neared her hot wet and oh so needy s*x.

Then he touched her there! That most intimate touch electrified the girl with surging thrill that rippled up through her body; causing Adrienne to visibly straighten, wiggling her shoulders and jerking upright as she sucked in a sharp breath through tightly clenched teeth. Inquisitive fingers probed through the front of her panties, pressing into the soft folds of flesh, as the helpless female, the last shreds of her defense melting away, let her knees slide indolently open — an eloquent gesture that invited the man’s intimate touch on her throbbing cunt. Quite deliberately, he placed the pad of his middle finger just at the apex of her vulva and used that one finger to slowly tickle her warm vaginal flesh through the dampening gusset of her panties.

Adrienne’s breathing was heavy; her eyes fluttered closed as wave after wave of pleasure lapped over her. Letting her head fall back she slid down in her seat, legs sprawled carelessly apart, uncaring; wanting more. His fingers curled up into her crotch pressed insistently between her swollen labia, poking the taut nylon into the slick valley of her needy cunt. He squeezed and palmed the furry mound in a slow, deep massage that soon had the girl squirming helplessly, stifling a moan as her hips moved instinctively wiggling in sensual delight.

The young woman was aware of the incredible wetness between her legs, the copious flow that was soaking her underwear, and probably the cushioned seat on which she sat; she didn’t care. She knew only that she wanted more, more of his caresses, more of the feel of that firm masculine hand that was holding her by the s*x, palming her hot throbbing cunt, slowly fondling her lust-swollen p***y. She felt the terrible need in her spasoming v****a, the intense pang of longing. She wanted his fingers inside her!

The slow dreamy way he was caressing the soft folds of her cunt soon had the healthy girl openly responding now, thrusting her hips, bucking instinctively to the waves of pleasure that moved her. She could no longer suppress the small soft moan, more of a desperate whimper, easily drowned out in the powerful music that even now was reaching a crescendo. Swept along in the magnificent music, Adrienne was taken up by the ecstatic rapture that welled up in her at the approaching climax. Suddenly her body straightened; legs shot out stiffly. The thigh muscles spasmed, contracting to tighten on and imprison the stiffened pleasuring hand. The man held his hand in place and let the passion driven woman rub herself off on him, twisting her hips with burning urgency, humping his hand in her desperation to grind her pubic mound against him and savor the intense thrill of her c******s rubbing against his palm. The music reached a peak as Adrienne threw back her head while the deep quiver of her orgasm overtook her, sending her into paroxysms of undiluted pleasure; and her body trembled in that one pure singular moment of ecstasy.