Enchanted: Erotic Bedtime Stories for Women (15 page)

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Authors: Nancy Madore

Tags: #Erotic stories; American, #Erotica - General, #Fiction - Adult, #Adaptations, #Erotic stories, #Short Story, #Short Stories (single author), #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Erotic fiction, #Fairy tales, #Adult, #Erotica - Short Stories, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Short Stories, #Women

BOOK: Enchanted: Erotic Bedtime Stories for Women
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She began to move, slowly at first, but then faster and faster, frantically rubbing herself against him, all the while delighting in the way her body appeared in the mirror, with her breasts jerking and bouncing and her buttocks shaking with every single thrust. It did not occur to her at all that the bouncing and shaking was unattractive, for the curse was far away from her mind. She dropped her head upon the bed as her body shuddered with bliss.

The next morning, the queen once again plucked one of the roses from its vine as she left the little cottage, and she began her journey home with a light heart. But old habits die hard and, no sooner had the latch clicked in the door upon the prince's departure, than the queen raced up to her bedchamber to learn what she would from the mirror. And a single glance in that glass caused the poor queen such anguish and disappointment that she collapsed on her bed in a heap, sobbing.

After she recovered from this outburst the queen faced the mirror once more, with the following words:

"Mirror, mirror, know I will—

Is my lover faithless still?

Did not the hairs upon the comb,

Prove Snow White is in her tomb?"

The mirror delayed not in responding:

"Snow White lives on, with beauty rare.

Her life could buy you years to spare.

You must weave her death of ilk

Into corset strings of silk!"

The queen was delighted with this new opportunity and immediately set to work, so that by the time the prince arrived at her doorstep later that afternoon she had the corset, with its deadly laces, ready and wrapped for her victim. But on this occasion the queen did not confide her true intentions to the prince. Instead, she convinced him that she had repented of her former behavior toward Snow White and wished him to deliver this present as way of an apology. The prince, completely unable to see any evil in his beloved queen, immediately took himself off to the woods to do as she bade him, after abstracting from her the promise to spend yet another evening in his cottage.

Snow White received the gift with great joy, and the prince, not suspecting any treachery from the queen, did not linger there but set forth immediately to make his return. As for Snow White, she could not resist the beautiful corset and nearly ripped her old clothes to shreds in her eagerness to try the elegant frippery on.

But no sooner had the corset touched her skin, than the stays, of their own accord, began to tighten, forcing a gasp from Snow White's lips and continuing until she was unable to take a single breath. She fell to the floor in a swoon and remained there, quite lifeless, until later that day, when she was discovered and placed in a beautiful glass coffin. But the remainder of Snow White's tale will have to wait until another time, for the prince is about to return to his queen, and I am certain that you would like to know what became of that poor lady.

To the prince's dismay, he returned to find the queen completely changed. Her skin seemed unnaturally taut, as if it had been stretched too tightly over her frame. Her eyes looked like those of a hawk, large and bulging. Her breasts were hard and unnatural looking and she was painfully thin. He realized instantly what she had done. But he loved her still and so, with less effort than it would take to pick up a small bird, he lifted the queen onto his horse and rode with her to his cottage.

But on this occasion, no roses were in bloom and the cottage seemed cheerless and damp. Upon entering the dwelling, the queen felt remorseful and wretched. She rushed up the stairs to the bedchamber in the hopes that the pleasure she had found there before would bring her comfort, but alas, upon peering into the unenchanted mirror, she gasped in horror. Her appearance was like something inhuman! She fell on the bed full of regret and weeping. She could not stay another minute in the cottage with the prince.

And so it was for three long months that the prince remained alone and unhappy, the queen remained a queen who was not expired, and Snow White remained in her glass coffin.

Then one day, while the queen was in her bedchamber, she came upon the roses she had taken from the prince's cottage. To her amazement, they were completely intact and as fresh as the day she had picked them. She lifted them to her face, and their enchanted scent caused her to remember the time spent in the cottage with the prince. Suddenly she realized what she had given up and how unhappy she had been ever since.
I must undo this deed,
she thought.

With swift determination she grabbed the bed warmer from her bed and hurled it with all her might into the mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

Next, she called for two messengers; the first of which she sent into the woods where Snow White slept in her coffin and the other she sent to her beloved servant. Then she waited.

The queen waited in her bedchamber for hours, but for her they passed like minutes. As the sun slowly made its way across the afternoon sky, she was thinking about her visits to the cottage, so charming with its countless vines of tiny, enchanted roses. Even when the light grew steadily dimmer through her window, her face glowed and flushed as she recalled the images in the bedroom mirror. When at last the shadows began to cast about for their evening positions, the queen's whole being ached for the soft and loving touch of her servant.

She fancied that she could feel a slight loosening of her flesh, and a sudden terror seized her; but she was awakened from her alarm by the sound of a footstep in the doorway and there, she beheld, her servant-prince!

Upon seeing the queen changed back to her former appearance, the prince nearly wept for joy. He calmed her fears by sweeping her into his arms and out through the doorway. They mounted his noble white horse, and that poor creature got no rest until he had carried the rapturous couple to the cottage deep in the wood.

And what they did there is exactly what you or I would be doing right now, if our own prince were here!

Mrs. Fox

 

 

I
t is to be expected that, at some point in any marriage, a wife might desire someone other than her husband. Such was the case with Mrs. Fox.

This is not to say that Mrs. Fox was discontent in her marriage with Mr. Fox, for the couple was exceedingly well matched. Mr. Fox was dashingly handsome and sophisticated, and Mrs. Fox was time and again captivated by his clever and amusing wit and charm. These glowing attributes of Mr. Fox perfectly complemented his wife's restless and inquisitive nature, which would have become discontented with a less-accomplished partner. What's more, Mr. Fox was gallantly attentive, and his romantic behavior only improved when met with Mrs. Fox's casual indifference, which made her seem quite mysterious to Mr. Fox. In short, their combined personalities produced a delightful give and take that they both enjoyed.

There was only one minute irregularity that arose in the Foxes' marriage; a pity that it was so inevitable. For beneath the detached exterior of Mrs. Fox lay an inquisitiveness that nearly drove her to distraction. When her curiosity was sufficiently piqued, she was apt to become impudently bold if she didn't check these tendencies behind a cool air of indifference. So, although she loved Mr. Fox above all things, these inclinations, when combined with her passionate temperament, brought about in her a tedium of things realized and a strong yearning for things new or forbidden.

Mr. Fox was unaware of any disturbance of this kind in his wife. He adored her passion for things unknown, and was thoroughly taken with her mysterious manner.

Now these yearnings of Mrs. Fox were not strange or foreign to her; they were, in fact, manifested in the form of one Mr. Wolfe.

Mr. Wolfe was Mr. Fox's dearest friend and fiercest rival. Since childhood, whenever any single thing had captured the attention of one, it immediately became a matter of supreme interest to the other, also. It was no different when Mr. Fox first noticed Mrs. Fox. Throughout their courtship Mr. Wolfe had been scandalously flirtatious, taking every opportunity to tempt and tease Mrs. Fox with brazen overtures. He was often slipping a moist tongue into a seemingly polite kiss on her hand, or leaving a steamy breath lingering salaciously in her ear behind an otherwise civil remark. While these little forbidden intimacies were unwanted and to all appearances ignored by Mrs. Fox, they always left her slightly atremble. Of course, once the Foxes were married, the rivalry had ended. Mr. Wolfe had accepted his defeat good-naturedly, and he even married soon thereafter, so that the matter was quite forgotten by everyone.

Everyone, that is, except Mrs. Fox.

Now Mrs. Wolfe was as simple and sweet as Mrs. Fox was passionate and complex. In truth, she was a much more suitable match for Mr. Wolfe's fiery, impulsive nature.

And Mrs. Fox certainly did not wish to be married to Mr. Wolfe, even if her thoughts did occasionally wander in the direction of the darker, more volatile man, sometimes even developing into wild speculations about how he performed his husbandly duties in the bedchamber. It did not signify anything lacking in her own marriage, for there was nothing amiss in her husband's treatment of her, and no single action of his with which she could find fault. On the contrary, Mr. Fox was as clever and skillful in the bedroom as he was in everything else. He knew exactly how to locate each and every nerve ending in Mrs. Fox's anatomy and, more important, what to do with them when he found them. He never took his own satisfaction before making quite sure of hers. To come to the point, Mr. Fox was everything Mrs. Fox could wish for in a lover.

Except, of course, that he was not Mr. Wolfe.

And aside from all of this, Mrs. Wolfe had come to be as dear a friend as Mrs. Fox could have. She genuinely enjoyed the company of sweet Mrs. Wolfe, in spite of the secret hunger for any little tidbit of information about the Wolfes' private life lurking within her. Mrs. Fox would simply compensate for this by boasting shamelessly about her own husband. She would go to great lengths to brag about the many admirable charms of Mr. Fox, all of which were absolutely true of course, but which nevertheless had lost some of their appeal simply because they were so readily available to her (unlike the forbidden charms of Mr. Wolfe). Mrs. Wolfe did not appear to notice this eccentricity in her friend, for she always seemed too absorbed by her own thoughts.

Time passed in this way, and you may think that Mrs. Fox's curiosity had diminished somewhat by frustration, but, no! It grew stronger. Poor Mrs. Fox could think of little else besides Mr. Wolfe and what it would be like to be Mrs. Wolfe. So preoccupied with these thoughts was Mrs. Fox that she could hardly enjoy the considerable physical talents of Mr. Fox without having her mind wander off into the Wolfes' boudoir. This is, in fact, what fueled her excitement as poor Mr. Fox spent his efforts pleasuring her. There was simply something so much more intriguing in the unknown and forbidden notion of Mr. Wolfe than in the familiar and real pleasures her husband had to offer. For Mrs. Fox, the grass was always greener somewhere else.

One day, as Mrs. Fox was guiltily prattling on about her husband's many capabilities to Mrs. Wolfe, the latter all of a sudden sighed miserably. "What a pity I cannot sample Mr. Fox's talents firsthand," she remarked absently.

No sooner were the words out of Mrs. Wolfe's mouth than the impact of what she had said hit her. She turned her eyes in horror to meet the shocked gaze of Mrs. Fox. Blushing a deep red, she was immediately contrite.

"Oh, my dear! I never meant…really…what I intended to say…" she stammered on, searching frantically for a way to recant the scandalous statement.

Mrs. Fox had at first been too dumbfounded to reply, such was her astonishment to hear those words uttered from the proper Mrs. Wolfe, but her composure quickly returned and she slyly took up the opportunity she had secretly wished for.

"It is, in truth, what I myself have wondered on occasion," she admitted. She did not dare to confess the extent of these wonderings, or that she had been thinking about little else since the wedding eve of the Wolfes' marriage.

"You…?" Sweet Mrs. Wolfe was still too flustered to contribute much to the conversation.

"It is only normal, after all," continued Mrs. Fox, determined to use her friend's unexpected slip to further her own wishes or, as it now stood, the wishes of them both.

"Our husbands, although each very talented I am sure, are in almost every respect opposites. How could we not wonder how it would feel to be with a man so different from our own?"

Mrs. Wolfe absorbed this and seemed to relax a bit.

"Perhaps," she consented. "But we could never…I mean," she stopped herself again.

"There is a way," suggested Mrs. Fox cunningly, with her heart pounding at her own boldness.

Mrs. Wolfe remained speechless, but there was a spark of interest in her eyes as they met Mrs. Fox's.

Mrs. Fox pretended to be contemplating the situation. In fact, she had played this scenario out in her mind at least a hundred times before.

"In a dark bedchamber," she mused, "our husbands would not be able to distinguish between us so easily."

Both women stared at the other in silence for a moment. Their hearts were racing at the implication of Mrs. Fox's words. Neither dared speak; then both spoke at once.

Mrs. Wolfe asked, "But, how?" Just as Mrs. Fox had wondered, "Would you really do it?"

The women couldn't suppress a nervous laugh. This released the tension a bit, and to Mrs. Fox's further amazement, Mrs. Wolfe spoke up first, in a breathless whisper, saying, "I would!"

Mrs. Fox could only marvel that Mrs. Wolfe was indeed full of surprises underneath that timid exterior!

The particulars were easily enough arranged once their intention had been established, and each woman eagerly did her part to prepare for the event. It seemed most logical that they simply change places during one of the many parties Mrs. Fox held, and where it was quite ordinary for the Wolfes and other guests to remain overnight. The other guests would add to the general confusion and hopefully diminish any idea of dissimilarity for their husbands.

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