by Nancy Madore
Something in the back of Cinderella’s mind recoiled and then came alive. No; she would not let this opportunity pass away from her! She boldly took hold of her husband’s hand and stopped his thoughtless chafing. After a brief moment, having got his attention, she placed his hand correctly between her legs, pressing the tips of his fingers into that one particular place that she had always wished he would touch. She moved his fingers very slowly over her flesh in the way it felt best, and with just the right amount of pressure. She sensed his initial shock, but hadn’t he, too, shocked her on many such occasions?
The prince allowed Cinderella to lead his hand, trying his best to halt his tendency to grab and plunge, and realized suddenly that he had only been making cursory efforts to touch her there in an attempt to get himself into her, and take her, like some rutting bull.
As one hypnotized, the prince was fully under Cinderella’s spell and eagerly waited for her to enlighten him further on her pleasure. It took effort and self-control to hold back and gently and carefully touch the place where her hand was pressing his into her soft flesh, but he concentrated all his energies on what she was trying to show him. She loosened her hold as he became more skillful, and it thrilled him when she moved her hips against his capable hand.
Using the most sensitive parts of his fingertips, the prince very gently felt all around her exposed flesh, searching very vigilantly for a clue to her secrets. Just above her soft opening he discovered a small bud of flesh that appeared to be quite tender. He noticed how Cinderella quivered when he rubbed the little bud in just the right way, just at the top where it begins, in a circular motion, and at just the right tension and speed. It thrilled him to see her tremble and shake beneath his fingertips, and he could not resist every now and then slipping a finger into her, and shuddering when he felt the soft, silky wetness that was the reward for his efforts.
Every now and then the prince, in his impatience, would unconsciously quicken the motions of his fingers, in his impatience to bring about Cinderella’s climax, but each time he did this, she would bring him back to attention with a gentle motion of her hand, as a reminder of how she liked it. Each of these little incidents caused another surge of excitement to fill his loins, until he thought he might explode. Even so, he was determined that she should be thoroughly satisfied and would have joyfully administered this pleasure to her throughout the night if she had wished it.
However, Cinderella was presently breathing very quickly, in short little gasps. She had momentarily lost all awareness of the prince, for strange little fragments of sensual scenarios were playing themselves out inside her brain. The prince, meanwhile, could sense that he was very close to bringing his wife the satisfaction she had so often given him, so he focused all his concentration to what his fingers were doing. He forced himself to keep a slow, even pace, as his fingertips relentlessly rubbed and twirled her swollen flesh. Suddenly he realized she had arrived at the peak of her excitement, and it took all his self-control to keep the steady pace until she was fully relieved, but he did just that. And even when she was finished, he very leisurely and gently held her there, and then kissed and licked her there, relishing in her wet silkiness. Cinderella moaned and shuddered in utter contentment.
But by this time the prince’s endurance had reached its limit so he pulled himself up and pushed all of his hardness into Cinderella, and it felt better than it ever had before. Her opening had never been so soft and plump as it was after being pleasured, and he held her firmly against him as he moved inside her and tried desperately to hold on to the pleasure for as long as he could. He didn’t want it to ever end but he couldn’t stop it, either, as he rounded the corner into that exquisite release that passes almost as quickly as it comes.
Afterward the prince held Cinderella for longer than he ever had before, trembling and groaning as he crushed her to him. It was she who stirred first and then he grudgingly moved away from her and began to dress. They dressed in silence, for she was quite sleepy by now, and he held her protectively in front of him for the remainder of the ride home. At the castle he lifted her down from his horse, carried her into their bed, and slipped off her soft little slippers. Then he crept into the bed next to her and they both drifted happily off to sleep.
The following morning Cinderella woke up alone as usual (for she was not an early riser) but beside her she noticed a rose. This brought a smile to her lips but that suddenly froze as she recalled with astonishment the events of the night before. She wondered what her husband made of her strange behavior. She could recall no disapproving remarks from the prince but, then again, there hadn’t been much conversation. She remembered her misuse and teasing of him and wondered that it had resulted in such kind and tender ministrations from him.
Cinderella continued to ponder the matter as she rose up from their bed, when there on the floor she spied the little pink slippers. She reached down and picked up one of the little shoes and a strange thrill ran up along her arm. She examined the delicate slipper. It was so pretty and soft that she could not stop herself from slipping it onto her foot, and all at once, she forgot everything but that strong desire to sample all that life had to offer. And once again she forgot about the castle and her husband, the prince.
This day Cinderella felt a keen interest in her kingdom, and more particularly, the people who lived there. She had been so secluded in her life so far, and wished to see how others lived. She wandered about among the towns and shops, seeking knowledge about the goings-on in her world, and where she fit into them. There were so many intriguing things to occupy one and here she had been, holed up in the castle like some Rapunzel, too uncomfortable and afraid to take part in it all. She discovered that there were many pursuits that appealed to her, and the day flew by so quickly that she scarcely realized it had become night.
Meanwhile, the prince had once again arrived home to find that Cinderella was not there. Supposing that she had returned to the tavern, he rode out to meet her there. But she was not at the tavern and no one there had seen her or knew her whereabouts. Once again the prince found himself annoyed with his wife. Though he had been ultimately delighted by her behavior of the night before, he felt in retrospect it had been a bit shocking the way she had wantonly given in to her desires and appetites, only to disappear again this following night. He wondered where she was and who she was with, and envious resentment came over him. Could she have forgotten about him yet again? He sighed with frustration. It left him feeling somewhat inadequate, that she could so easily forget him and enjoy the company of others after he had spent so much effort to please her!
All of these ruminations only served to fuel his anger all the more. He felt suddenly weary and decided to go home and have done with her childish games.
But upon returning to the castle he discovered Cinderella had arrived, and in a jolly mood, smiling and laughing, and not even noticing his sour mood. She chattered excitedly about her day and the many interesting things she’d seen. All seemed harmless enough, and in spite of himself, the prince’s mood improved; for it is impossible for any husband to remain angry when his wife is so happy.
Yet the prince felt a lingering anxiety and restlessness. It was as if everything was changing. Would it be for the better, or worse?
He reached out for his beaming wife and drew her to him. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him heartily. She could feel his hardness as he reached beneath her blouse, but she abruptly drew away from him, offended by his hastiness. Why, it was as if her husband needed only to turn on a switch.
“I feel like a bath,” she purred. “Won’t you prepare it for me?”
How could he refuse? Sullenly he went to draw her bath. As he watched the water fill the tub he reflected that bubbles might make the bath more pleasant for them both, since he planned to linger while she bathed and he loved the way the bubbles bounced and clung to her luscious curves. This he accomplished easily enough, but then it occurred to him that candles would undoubtedly
make the bubbles sparkle as they bounced. These thoughts chased away his surly mood, and he was even smiling when she came in for her bath. She glanced at the candles and then at his face, and she blushed as he gave her a wink. Could he be flirting with her? Her heart gave a little leap.
And even when Cinderella slipped off the enchanted slippers she was still too delighted by her husband’s attentions to remember to be unhappy.
Needing a task to take his mind off his throbbing loins, the prince picked up the soap and began to wash Cinderella, starting with her feet, taking time to massage her flesh from toe to heel, slowly and caressingly, and then moving his way up her leg to her thigh. She closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure. He did not rush over the task, but perceiving her wish to relax and unwind from her unusually busy day, and also wishing to enjoy the task ahead of him, her husband leisurely and thoroughly bathed her.
As the prince lovingly assisted Cinderella with her bath, he asked her questions about her day and listened attentively to her answers. The warm water and his courtly manner caused her cheeks to turn pink with warm anticipation. It suddenly occurred to her that her husband was infinitely more attentive and charming and romantic when his body desired her than he was once she had already pleased him.
And his attentions were in turn making her desire him.
The prince had very scrupulously washed her legs and feet, and now his hands very gently and carefully washed her private area. She had been chatting happily until then, when suddenly his administrations silenced her. Their eyes locked as his hands slowly washed the fleshy parts of her opening, and then wiggled into the cleft of her backside and circled that opening as well, not quitting until both regions were squeaky clean. Next he washed her torso and breasts, and shoulders and back. Then he pulled the plug to let the water drain, while at the very same time pouring very warm water over her to rinse her.
The bath was so well performed that Cinderella’s heart was touched along with the rest of her senses. For this was not the bath of an impatient lover, but more like that of a loving caregiver. His gentle attentions caused her heart to fill.
Cinderella rose up from her bath and stood perfectly still as the prince took up a large towel to dry her body. She watched his face as he carefully toweled her curves and angles, paying special attention to the crevice between her legs, with extra gentleness, but a meticulousness that left her breathless. He then lowered his attentions to her legs and feet, kneeling before her and taking each foot onto his leg to dry each toe in turn.
The prince suddenly dropped the towel and began to caress Cinderella with his fingers. Still on his knees, he stroked her skin, which was especially soft and rosy and sensitive from her bath. Ever so tenderly he embraced her, kissing her stomach while his hands roamed over her backside in a firm but loving embrace. Cinderella shivered.
Holding Cinderella’s bottom in his hands, the prince turned his face to kiss her abdomen, again and again, and then lower, he kissed the cleft between her legs, his tongue darting out in search of the secret little pleasure spot he had discovered the night before.
The prince firmly licked up from the center to the front of Cinderella’s open legs; again and again, and as he licked her he wiggled his tongue into her smallest crevices, and twirled it in and around her sensitive nubs and peaks. All his energies were centered on that part of her he explored, so that it seemed his senses existed through his tongue alone, and it was thus that he could see, feel, smell, taste and hear Cinderella.
At last the prince found what he was looking for and he carefully began his relentless pursuit of Cinderella’s ultimate pleasure. He whirled and stroked the magical little membrane with his tongue, slowly and meticulously. Her hands instinctively went to his head and her fingers entwined themselves within his dark locks. He felt her shudders as he worked on her, and his ego soared with triumph. Every now and then he could not resist dipping his tongue into her open body to taste her delicious contentment. This would cause both to moan with pleasure.
But suddenly Cinderella desired her husband to join her in this pleasure. In her mind she had conjured an image and she wanted to experience it with her other faculties. So she took the prince by the hand and led him to their bed. Without a word she removed his clothing, leisurely enjoying his hard muscular form as she did, and then finally pushing him gently down on the bed. His body was hard and straining as he willingly complied with her will. She positioned herself beside him in an arrangement that left him no doubt what she intended. She rolled to one side and bent one leg enough to open herself to him, even as she took his entire hardness into her mouth. He clutched her buttocks in his hands and pulled her into his face, as his tongue easily found her tender pleasure spot and resumed its stroking.
Cinderella had never enjoyed having the prince in her mouth quite so much. It had been tiresome, in the past, working over him, trying to please without knowing if she should go faster or slower, or when it was enough. Now she simply relished the feel of him in her mouth, and didn’t worry about how she performed, because she suddenly realized that it was all so much easier for him to enjoy. So she simply let herself get pleasure from him now, caressing him with her tongue and lips as she marveled at his male hardness. It made her feel exceedingly erotic, to simply suckle and leave it to him to move in and out of her mouth as he pleased. It sent thrills through her when his thrusts forced her mouth to open wider, or when she felt him pressing into her throat. And all the while he never stopped working her with his tongue, so she quite thoroughly lost herself in the sensations of having her mouth and throat opened wide and filled by him, while he kept feeding upon her private parts.
Further and further Cinderella sank into herself, even as she experienced the most intimate joining she had ever shared with her husband. She simply lost consciousness of anything unrelated to her own sensual pleasure.
Lips and tongues were for licking and sucking. Legs were for opening wide, so eager eyes could look inside. Skin was for touching; every part, every cell seemed to be screaming with a mounting pressure to reach that tingling release. This was, at that moment, what she was living for.
It rushed toward her and enveloped her. Then in the next instant it was gone again. And yet there was a milder pleasure that lingered.
This was undoubtedly what her husband had experienced so many times before; and to think she had resented him for it! She had thought she was simply pleasing him, but no! She had been searching for something for herself all along, and now that she found it she understood perfectly why her husband had so enjoyed it.
She lay very still, languidly reveling in the delicious sensations that continued to course through her body. Her husband had not reached his own moment yet, but she knew he would and felt no rush to bring him there. Instead, she savored the blissful responsiveness she felt to him.
The prince moved very slowly to embrace his wife, kissing her face and neck and lips. Her body was languid as he opened her legs and rested between them. She lifted her arms to him, and he entered her body as he embraced her in a deep kiss. He marveled at how incredibly soft and wet and pliable she was. He could not recall ever feeling this aroused. His whole body shook, and she felt like a part of him, she was so wholly his. His release was more intense and powerful than he had ever experienced before, actually bringing stars before his eyes.
The prince did not move for many moments, simply holding Cinderella in his arms while remaining inside her. His mind replayed the events of the night, in great detail, as if trying to unravel a mystery. A strange light came into his eyes.
Why had he never thought of appealing to her senses and enticing her body to open to him, instead of merely taking her? How could he have so arrogantly disregarded the secrets to bringing her body pleasure? His own pleasure was increased tenfold with this subtler kind of taking; not to mention that his manhood soared when he witnessed the absolute power he could wield over her mind and heart and body—not the power to have those parts of her, but the powe
r to excite and thrill and titillate. He swore to himself that he would never again miss this important and exceedingly pleasant part of their joining.
And finally Cinderella really did live happily ever after!
East of the Sun and West of the Moon
There once lived a man who was so poor that he could barely feed his family. They lived in a rundown cottage in a remote village, with no prospects for the future.
One night, as the great North Wind came whistling through the woods, shaking the tiny cabin where they lived, an enormous white bear suddenly appeared at their door.
“Good evening,” said the bear.
“Good evening,” replied the man. Though he had not encountered a talking bear before, it was well-known in those parts that animals who spoke were enchanted. It was, in fact, a great honor to be addressed by such a creature.
The man’s family hovered about the room gaping at the peculiar visitor, anxious to know what business had brought him to their humble cottage.
“I have come for your firstborn daughter,” the bear announced without preamble. “If she will come away with me, she will have everything she wishes for, and, what’s more, I will make you and the rest of your family as rich as you are now poor.”
Beguiled by the words of the white bear, the eldest daughter pleaded with her mother and father to let her go—for her parents were against it, insisting that it would bring bad luck on them to give up their daughter for wealth. But at last they relented, as the young woman would not be denied the adventure.
Packing took no amount of time, since the poor girl owned nearly nothing in the world, and bravely she kissed each member of her family goodbye and climbed onto the back of the huge white bear. She barely had time for one last backward glance at her family before she was abruptly whisked away, with extraordinary speed, to a large white castle. There, servants rushed to and fro to attend to her arrival. Everything happened so quickly that she could scarcely take in her extravagant surroundings, and all of a sudden she felt terribly afraid. What was to become of her?
