THE BLUE BUTTERFLY
By Don Winslow
The Blue Butterfly, a quality journal of erotica was originally published from its offices in London’s Dalling Road, and dedicated to presenting the finest pornography: photos, stories and vignettes, crafted for just one purpose - to give pleasure. The journal managed to survive on a list of small but dedicated subscribers, but after a few years of struggle with rising costs, The Blue Butterfly quietly folded its wings. Still for one brief, shining moment there was a sustained effort to collect and publish the very best erotic fiction, writing selected for its sexual power – to move the reader emotionally, to excite and arouse. This collection of tales from The Blue Butterfly is dedicated to that publishing milestone.
THE BLUE BUTTERFLY is a set of stories, each describing in exquisite detail the sensual power and fascinating allure of carefully chosen women. Some of the women you will meet are beautiful, some merely pretty in an ordinary sort of way, some are exotic, and some might be called commonplace, yet for the man who loves women, each represents a shining example of her sex, with a unique seductive appeal that make her memorable in the annals of erotica. In The Blue Butterfly you will meet extraordinary women captured at the height of sexual ecstasy, in some of the finest examples of contemporary erotic fiction.
From The Blue Butterfly:
Raynard took his place in the big chair before which Gratia now stood waiting. He smiled to see that she had dressed as he told her to, in that tailored business suit, the same outfit she wore the day they first met: the pencil skirt and silky blouse under the trim fitted jacket; the gleaming patent leather pumps. He took his time, taking in those lengthy legs encased in shimmering black nylons, pausing to admire those feminine lines and handsome features: the classic high cheekbones, the generous lips set now in a tight, tense line. She stood looking down at him, and their eyes met: hers, large and expressive eyes; deep brown eyes that were anxious with neurotic energy, yet bright with the anticipation she felt keenly rising up in her.
"Come here, closer," he muttered. He watched the pointed shoes take a step forward on the deep pile carpet. He looked up at her.