by Spellbound- An Anthology of Erotically Retold Fairy Tales [Ravenous] (epub)
Wendy walked into the men’s dressing room and stood next to Peter. He was shirtless, just out of the shower. She had changed earlier to a pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt. Peter pushed out a chair with his foot. Wendy took the seat. She leaned forward to meet his eyes, but all she could concentrate on was his clean-shaven face and soapy scent. She could never fight her attraction to him, even when she was able to hide it.
“It was Hooke,” Peter said. “Some kind of retribution for the other night.”
“Please don’t do anything drastic.”
“He tried to kill you and kill the crew.”
“I know, but I need to protect my brothers.”
“They’re grown men now, Wendy. Maybe you should start thinking of you.”
“I can’t do that Peter,” she breathed, turning away.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m too busy thinking of you,” she said with an unexpected honesty.
Peter smiled and took Wendy’s hand. “How do you feel about surprises?”
“I love them. As long as it’s not while I’m fifty feet in the air.”
He pulled a long silver scarf from his pocket and tied it over her eyes. “No peeking.”
Peter rested a hand on Wendy’s back and eased open the flap of the big top. He slid the scarf off her eyes and waited. “Okay, open your eyes slowly so the light doesn’t blind you.” Wendy gasped at the scene before her, like some secret fantasy come to life.
The safety net was strung up, a large down comforter spread across it. Candles traced a path on the floor. The trapezes were loose. Silver and blue ribbons hung from one, a large wicker basket from the other. The main spotlight of the circus trained on the blanket.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say yes.”
“Yes.”
Wendy looked deep into Peter’s eyes and kissed him. Their lips parted and tongues explored. Wendy felt his strong hands on her waist, moving slowly up her torso to her back. Peter pulled her in to him, allowing their bodies to mesh. She pulled back and licked her lips to savor his lingering taste.
“Do you know how eagles mate?” Peter asked.
“Tell me.”
“They interact in mid air, coupling in a death dive, falling faster with each passing second and thrust. Then at the moment of orgasm, they pull away and fly off. Sometimes they’re so impassioned they crash into the ground and die.”
“You have the sweetest bedroom talk.”
Peter smiled and took Wendy’s hand. He led her to the support pole and lifted her to the first rung. She climbed onto the net and waited. Peter wasn’t far behind. They bounce-walked to the comforter and collapsed on it. Wendy stared up at the ribbons, caught in a stray breeze and reflecting the light.
“This is amazing, how did you do all this?”
“Sometimes I have a lot of spare time on my hands.” She raised a knowing eyebrow at him. “All right Belle helped me.”
Peter looked deep into Wendy’s eyes and ran a hand through her thick curly hair. He leaned in and kissed her, first on the forehead, then the nose, and then on the lips.
“I used to dream of you at night, Peter, alone in my trailer. Thinking about your arms and your legs, and how you never dropped anyone. I’ve seen shows where people fall.”
“As long as you’re here with me, Wendy, you’ll never fall.” She leaned in and kissed him gently. “I want you to trust me,” he continued, “on and off the trapeze. I will never let you fall.” Wendy kissed him harder, tasting Peter’s breath and tongue. She rolled on top of him and smiled at the pressure of his erection against her abdomen. Peter slid his hand up her ribs.
Wendy sat up, straddling Peter, and let him slip her shirt off. He ran his strong hands over her bra and squeezed her breasts before sitting up and reaching around for her bra straps. She smiled and looked down.
“So old fashioned.” With an easy move, Wendy released the catch on the front of her bra and watched it float through the safety net to the floor below. Peter buried his face between her breasts. A small cry escaped her lips. He kissed each orb, letting his tongue dance over the areolas and nipples. Wendy reached down and pulled his shirt off.
“I tried to rig the trapezes with safety harness,” he grinned wickedly. “I thought that could make for some fun.”
“Next time,” she said.
Peter kissed Wendy’s chest and slowly worked his way down her abdomen. She smiled at him, already feeling the familiar contractions starting. At this rate I’m going to come before my pants are off, she mused. Peter deftly unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She rolled off him as he slid the material away, raising each leg to free her of the denim. Peter kissed her toes, then continued upwards, massaging and licking her calves, stopping at her thighs.
Every instinct and emotion in Wendy ached for him to tear off her thin panties. She could feel the dampness already. Peter knelt down and gently spread her legs, gently lifting the corner of the white cotton bikinis and running his fingers through her blonde thatch. Arching her back, Wendy’s breath caught in her throat when Peter slipped two fingers inside her and worked gently, teasing and playing until he took a first tentative taste of her juices.
With an animalistic growl Peter tore the panties free. One finger still probing her, he started to lick. No fantasy Wendy had came close to what he made her feel. Alternating between the flat of his tongue and the tip, Peter touched every part of her. She opened her legs wider. His skilled tongue, combined with her own intense need, brought her climax all too quickly.
When he didn’t stop, Wendy reached down and wove her fingers through Peter’s thick hair. He continued to lick at her clit as his fingers reached deep inside of her. Finding a spot she had only previously read about, Wendy shuddered and bit her lip to keep from screaming as the second orgasm raced through her. Now this, she thought, is flying.
Peter raised his head from her sex and looked at her. Wendy never felt more beautiful. Her nipples were still hard, and he licked each one before lying next to her.
“Did I wear you out?”
“Not even close, Peter. I’m just getting warmed up.” Wendy rolled on top of him, letting her hands travel down his sculpted abdomen to his pants. The heat coming through the jeans was like a furnace. She unzipped him and slid her hand in. Peter pulled her into a fierce kiss. Wendy rubbed the front of his boxer-briefs, giggling at the pinpoint of moisture soaking through. She pulled off the pants along with his underwear.
Wendy cradled Peter’s balls and slowly stroked him. Peter moaned and grabbed a handful of her curly hair. She licked the tip of his erection, then the shaft, letting her tongue travels its length before taking him into her mouth. Peter groaned in ecstasy and thrust his hips to meet Wendy. She kept with his need, never allowing him to slip out, except when she paused to run her tongue along his shaft.
“You’d better stop, Wendy, or the rest of my plans will be spoiled.” Peter pulled her up to his chest. She listened to his heart hammering and relished his need for deep breaths. His chest was warm against her cheek. “There’s a little something for you in the basket,” he said.
Wendy reached up into the flat basket hung from the trapeze and took out a condom. “Unlubricated,” she noticed. “Were you expecting something?”
“Hoping, and they were the first ones I saw in the store.” She unwrapped the condom, slipped it between her lips using her teeth for a barrier, and crept down his body again. Using her tongue she slipped the condom over the tip over his cock and then took him into her mouth until it was snug.
Wendy climbed on top of Peter and eased down his length until he was deep within her. She rocked with him and let the motions of the net help carry them. The springing movements of the net drove their thrusts deeper until they both reached that moment of perfect synchronization, as the did each night when they were on the trapezes flying through the air.
From the spotlight in the corner, their shadows danced across the walls of the
tent as they moved together. Their bodies knew each other so well that this final intimacy was as natural as it was powerful. They thrust against each other until neither could last a moment longer. Their moans blended as they came. Peter sat up and put his hands on Wendy’s back. She continued to rock with their quaking orgasms. She bent her head to his. They kissed passionately as their pace slowed and the net stopped swaying.
They lay intertwined on the comforter, both still naked and glistening with sweat. Peter reached into the basked and withdrew a bottle of wine and two plastic cups. He pulled the loosened cork out and poured them each a glass.
“How did you think of this?” Wendy asked, looking over the rim of her cup.
“Call it a long-time dream.” She smiled and kissed him, tasting wine still damp on his lips.
“And what about Hooke?”
“Now there’s a mood killer. Leave him out of this.”
“I’m sorry Peter, I didn’t mean to.” She looked away, finished the last sip of wine, and reached for her pants. “I can’t.”
Peter put out a hand to stop her. “Let me worry about him.”
“You don’t understand. I have to look out for my brothers.”
“No, you don’t understand. Hooke is my problem, our problem, but not for much longer. I have another surprise, but I can’t tell you until tomorrow. You have to trust me.”
“Does it involve safety harnesses?” Wendy dropped her jeans and reached into the basket for a second condom.
* * * *
Wendy closed the door to Peter’s trailer softly so she wouldn’t wake him. They had spent the night there, curled in each other’s arms. She planned to catch a ride into town for bagels, coffee and fresh orange juice. Wendy finished pulling on her shirt as she was going down the small set of stairs to the ground. A gasp escaped her lips when the shirt cleared her face and someone pulled her hair free.
Hooke stood there, an evil grimace smeared across his face. The muffled rumblings of Peter waking up came through the thin metal walls. The door opened. Peter stood in the morning sunlight staring at Wendy, who was still staring at Hooke.
“What can I do for you, Hooke? You get a good earful?”
“That’s it, the both of you.” Hooke’s hand slid down to the hilt of the blade he always kept there. “I can rid myself of two problems now.” He reached for the knife, his hand closing around the grip. Peter’s hand connected with the side of Hooke’s head before the blade was removed. Another blow hit Hooke’s midsection, and finally his nose. Hooke howled and grabbed at his face to stop the bleeding.
“You’re both fired! Get out now!” Hooke’s face was beat red, more so from rage than the blood gushing from his nose. “Pack up your brothers and your sister.” He spit out a mouthful of his venomous blood. “You two can go work the carnie circuit.”
Wendy and Peter watched Hooke slink off. Neither moved until they heard the slam of his trailer door. Wendy laced her fingers with Peter and put her head against his shoulder.
“What do we do now?” She was trembling and on the verge of tears. Peter cupped her chin and brought her face up as a tear slipped free. He kissed her and smiled. “How can you smile?” she asked. “Everyone is fired. Everything we’ve worked through and did is worthless. You don’t know what I did—”
“I do know, Wendy, and I’m sorry it went on for so long. I made some phone calls the other day after he tried to cut the net and I have something to tell you. When you’re a third-generation performer, you pick up a few tricks along the way.”
“You have some super secret bank account to support my brothers and your sister?”
Peter took a deep breath. “No, but I may have controlling interest in this circus.”
“How is that possible?”
“The circus never belonged to Hooke. I had some suspicions, but didn’t follow through until a few days ago. Seeing you with Hooke made me realize it was time to grow up and take responsibility.”
“What are you saying?”
“Thanks to some helpful lawyers, the circus is now mine. My father never gave up ownership, just control. He transferred it to me about two days ago. I have the faxes in my trailer. Hooke doesn’t know. Yet.” Peter watched a smile spread across Wendy’s face. “Hooke is a figurehead, nothing else; but as long as my father was an absentee owner, the power fell to him. The truth is, he can’t fire anyone. All he really does is run the bookings. He couldn’t fire an ant if it crawled across his stinking hide.”
“You’ll need a new ringmaster.”
“My dad is considering coming out of retirement.”
“So what’s next?”
“You want to help me fire Hooke?”
Wendy pressed her face against Peter’s chest and nodded. They walked toward Hooke’s trailer, hands locked, eyes never wavering from their destination ahead.
Legs
By Rachel Kenley
Every step she took was agony, but any discomfort was worth it to finally have legs. She felt strangely exposed without her tail. It was hard to decide what was more awkward: the sensation of walking, or the sand beneath her new bare feet.
She left the comfort and familiarity of the sea for the dry land of man in hopes of finding a pleasure and connection lost to her in the fathomless ocean, while living with her father’s limited ideas of acceptable behavior.
If her father knew she had been to visit the Sea Trader, her punishment would be severe. His wrath was doubly worse than the paper she signed. While the Trader’s clause resulted in her death, her father would let her live—and only wish she were dead.
I will make it to that rock before I try to rest, she thought, starting to walk again. The pain had begun to ease by the time she reached the boulder. She was sturdier on her limbs. She pushed herself up to sit more securely on the rock and looked at her legs for the first time.
They appeared so slender and frail compared to the wider expanse of her absent tail. It was no wonder they were difficult to use. She leaned forward to touch the tiny feet and laughed silently when it tickled. She watched in awe as her toes wiggled and the muscles moved beneath the skin. Slowly she allowed her hands to travel up to her ankles and calves, smiling at the sensations her own touch created.
She reached her knees and marveled at how they bent to allow movement. Her tail did not need the ability to do that. When she touched the skin behind her knee she experienced a new thrill: a tingle that started where her fingers were and ended someplace else. She moved her hands away and the feeling faded.
Curious, she thought, placing her hands back and restoring the sensations. She gasped. This is worth the Trader’s price. She had never used her voice anyway. Mermaids communicated telepathically through the dense water. The silence of this world was one of the first things she noticed. Other than my legs, of course.
Wondering what other surprises she might find, she continued to work her way up, now reaching her thighs. Here she found more muscle, somewhat similar to the strength in her tail. Nothing here created the pulsing sensation of the other place, so she moved further up and almost fell off the rock when she discovered a small patch of soft hair.
What is that doing there? she wondered, leaning forward to look at the fine blond hair covering the juncture. She’d asked for legs. Did the Trader get something wrong? How can I walk among humans with this on my body? The only hair she had were long waves starting at her head and reaching her waist, the same color as this new find.
Deciding it needed additional exploration, she put her hands gently on the hair and searched for the skin beneath. The earlier thrill returned stronger. She gasped and moved her hand away. The feeling stopped. Immediately she touched herself again.
The flesh was magnificently sensitive and her breathing sped up while she stroked the skin more firmly. As she continued, she found a small cleft in the skin and allowed her finger to trail between the folds. The increase in pleasure was breathtaking. Her eyes flew open and she had to squint against the sunl
ight.
Never before had she experienced such an exquisite rush. Her finger traced lower and she found a small swollen bud. Her hands fisted as a jolt of pleasure surged through her. It was unlike anything; yet once she felt it, she couldn’t imagine how she had lived without it. She thought nothing could be better than the sensation of walking. I was wrong. Walking doesn’t compare to this.
She stretched out fully on the rock, the breeze caressing her as she allowed a second hand to touch what the first had discovered. She continued to massage the tip that was responsible for such joy while her other finger moved lower. There she felt wetness—her first since leaving home—and an entrance surrounded by more sensitive skin. One finger, then two, slid in. She was certain she was going to explode.
Something built inside of her. And although she couldn’t say what it was, she knew it was different from anything she had felt. Waves grew within her; not unlike the ones she grew up playing in, and yet nothing at all like them. She could hardly wait to experience what was about to arrive.
Her heart raced as she reveled in each added sensation. A flood of wetness escaped. She hastened her movements to match the increase in pleasure. Her body reached to meet a peak rushing toward her.
“There you are!” a deep voice startled her and her hands fell to the side, taking the bliss with them. “Everyone at the shoot is waiting for you. What are you doing out here by yourself?”
The sun was behind him and she saw nothing except the outline of a tall body with broad shoulders. As he got closer her breath caught. He was her first human, and he was gorgeous. Large dark eyes stared questioningly at her from a tan face. He had full lips and pearly white teeth. His deep brown hair was wavy and slightly long, and she could see sparks of red where it caught the sun. Her eyes wandered down his body. He was nearly as naked as she, although she saw a small piece of clingy material covered his waist. She thought she noticed something move behind the covering, but it stopped before she could be certain.
“We’ve been wondering if you were here,” he continued. She had no idea what he was talking about, but liked the sound of his voice. “We’re set up on the other side of the beach. You must have been given the wrong directions. I’m glad I found you.”
