Soft coloured sweet-pea flicker in the flowerbed, warm sunlight sparkles in their brown eyes, glows upon their blushed cheeks and dazzles from their moist coloured lips. The butterfly flutters amongst the gentle wave of reaching fingers drawn by the waft of drifting cents.
You must login to vote
“Helloo sexy man . . . welcomme,” smile the flowers.
Firm fingers clasp his palm and embrace the butterfly, wooing him closer. Sumptuously the flower beams and purrs, “you want nice time?”
A soft caress of buttock and the butterfly flutters his wings, attracted to the sensuous touch of other attentive flowers. His hand smooth’s a velvet thigh and gentle fingers comb his arm. Perfumes mingle on persuasive breath and float the butterfly towards a darkened doorway. Slowly the sunlight slides from the murky room as merging sweet-pea’s press against his wings and guide the blinded butterfly to a single perch. Neon glow bathes the bunching flowers, soothing, rousing, tempting while surrounding and acquainting with their nectar-seeking insect.
“What’s your name . . . where you from? Oh, you too much power.”
Now Budweiser stands proud among the coloured cocktails sprinkled across the bar as fluttering hands stroke the back, caress the neck and fumble at the fly. Eagerly the butterfly pulls close a sweet-pea’s lips and sucks upon her nectar.
Leisurely the insect feasts endlessly amongst the pollen cups as weary petals steadily fall away.
Puckering his lips the surly butterfly slowly pours the lonely Budweiser’s golden liquid and stares along the deserted bar. His sweet-pea’s chatter gleefully outside the neon darkness disenchanted with the butterfly who now has ‘no more power’. Sluggishly the spent butterfly slides from his abandoned perch to stagger silently through the flowerbed and blend gradually into the Pattaya night.