The little butterfly flitted from flower to flower, spinning, dipping, pirouetting. She was a beautiful little butterfly. Her colorful, iridescent wings were red and yellow and orange and black, her dark green antennae bobbed as she danced.

She was wearing a tiny white leotard. Even though it was her favorite, the little butterfly's mother wouldn't let her wear it to the ballet recital the next afternoon. It is far too small for her, and far too revealing. But today she sneaked her favorite little leotard out of the house.

The little butterfly spun and pirouetted, then stopped, standing in front of me in the first position. I could clearly see the shape of her pubic mound through the thin fabric of the leotard. She then bent her knees into a demi-plie, the leotard pulling tight against her sex.

She smiled as she held the position for a moment, knowing full-well what I was looking at. Then she turned and performed her arabesques, her right leg facing me, lifted, giving me a perfect view of her tiny little nine year old vagina through the thin fabric of her leotard.

Then the little butterfly stood up, facing me. She slipped an arm out of her leotard, making sure to keep the elastic band of her butterfly wings in place. She slipped the other arm out as well and pulled the leotard down. Her chest was white and girlish, her adorable little flat pink nipples exposed.

She slipped the leotard over her narrow hips, and it landed in a pile on the ground. Her little lily-white nine year old pussy was bare.

Then the little butterfly danced for me, wearing only her ballet shoes and her butterfly wings. She performed the Dance of the Flowers, from the Butterfly Ballet, her solo for tomorrow's recital. She flitted from flower to flower, spinning, dipping, pirouetting. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen; graceful and lithe, young and pale and small.

She stopped, standing in front of me, smiling and biting her lower lip, her feet crossed. Then she stepped forward and knelt down in front of me and began pulling my shorts down.

When she freed my cock, he stood up, looking quite huge compared to the little butterfly's little nine year old face. She leaned down, stuck her tongue out, and placed it gently against the base of my shaft. Then she licked up the underside of my penis, to my head. She smiled up at me when my cock twitched as she got to the head. Then she moved back down to the base and licked again.

She was a little butterfly, a little nine year old butterfly, probing a flower's stamen with her delicate little butterfly tongue.

The little butterfly's tongue explored, tasting my filament, up to my anther, then back down my filament again. A dozen times she licked with her delicate tongue, as if she were begging my stamen to give up his pollen to her.

Then she stood up. She climbed on my lap, facing me and straddling my legs. She sat up on her knees and reached behind her and directed my cock into her little nine year old pussy.

Her eyes got wide as she sat down on my cock, my head pushing into her lips. "It's so big," the little butterfly said quietly. She sat up, her lips slipping off of my head. She sat down again, my head burrowing in, its ridge now slipping through her hymenal ring, deeper into her.

She sat up, then sat down again, letting my cockhead burrow even deeper into her. Her pale little childish vaginal lips were half-way down my cock now. I was deeper inside her than I had ever been before.

She smiled broadly at me. "It's so big!" the little butterfly said in her childish little high-pitched voice.

She sat up, then down again. I slid in easily; her little nine year old pussy was fully lubricated now. I felt my head bump against her cervix, deep inside her little nine year old body, barely more than half my shaft inside her.

I lay back as she sat up, then down again, then up, then down again. She put her hands on my chest to support herself and she looked down at me, her eyes glassy.

"Cindy," I said, looking up at her, "I love you."

"I love you too!" the little butterfly said loudly in her girlish little voice.

She had increased the speed of her love-making. She was pumping fast and hard on my cock, my head plunging into the soft flesh of her cervix, her little antennae bouncing provocatively up and down.

"Cindy," I said, "I'm going to come!"

She smiled down at me and bounced even faster, her antennae falling off her head, her butterfly wings swinging wildly.

"Oh, Cindy!" I shouted. "My sweet little butterfly! My sweet little baby! I love you!"

"I love you too!" the little butterfly said loudly in her girlish little voice.

A giant stream of come barreled down my cock. I grabbed her hips and held her down on me, my cockhead buried into the soft flesh of her little nine year old cervix. My come fired out of me, a gigantic, endless shot, firing directly into her little nine year old womb.

The little butterfly sat back, keeping my cock buried inside her as he continued to spasm, shooting more come into her little womb. She reached down and began twirling her finger over her clitoris, a big smile on her beautiful childish face. Her body began to shake and her wings shimmered iridescently as she came.

When she finished orgasming, she lay down on me and opened her mouth wide and I put my tongue in her and we kissed, my little butterfly and me, my cock still buried deep inside her little nine year old pussy.

"Cindy," I kept saying, every time we paused to take a breath, "you're the most beautiful wonderful sweetest sexiest greatest thing in the world."

The little butterfly smiled, then put her mouth back on top of mine.

----

The next afternoon I attended her dance recital. Her mother was happy to see me there. "Cindy will be so glad you came," she said, smiling at me and offering me the seat next to her in the front row.

When Cindy took the stage, wearing a more modest--though still quite revealing--light pink leotard along with her beautiful butterfly wings and her antennae, she saw me and smiled broadly.

Then she danced. A beautiful dance, spinning, dipping, pirouetting, flitting from flower to flower. A beautiful little butterfly dancing a beautiful little butterfly dance.