Enchanted: Erotic Bedtime Stories for Women (17 page)

Mr. Fox was meanwhile leisurely circling her backside with his finger while simultaneously tickling her pleasure spot knowingly with his tongue. He did this with an almost uncanny expertise, flicking his tongue over the sensitive area with just the right amount of force and pressure to send thrills throughout her body, and then stopping abruptly to lap up her liquids with a wicked laugh. Meanwhile, his finger between her buttocks continued its teasing and circling, even pushing into her now and then, farther and farther, encouraged by her little gasps.

Mrs. Wolfe reflected that, as forceful as her husband was, she had never before felt so utterly abused. While Mr. Wolfe took what he wanted from her she was able to take what she wanted from him, too. But this was different somehow. It felt as if Mr. Fox was controlling them both; and she did not like it one bit. Tears came to her eyes and she cried out in frustration and impatience.

Now Mr. Fox reckoned he at last had her where he wanted her. He laid back on the bed, saying, "Come now and get it."

Mrs. Wolfe was stunned. She had certainly never heard such an utterance from Mr. Wolfe. She had never seen a man show such control.

But she could not keep herself from continuing, for she sorely needed what he was withholding. So up she got, and prepared to mount Mr. Fox.

However, this was not exactly what Mr. Fox had intended. He stopped her before he entered her.

"First show me how much you want it."

Oh, how she hated him! She almost forgot herself in the heat of her anger, and told him what she thought of him. Seemingly unaware of this, his hand was gently caressing her head and stroking her hair, even as he pressed her head downward. She choked back her indignation and opened her mouth to accept his hard shaft. He kept pressing her head down until she could feel him at the back of her throat.

"That's it," he groaned with pleasure. "If you want it you're going to have to work for it."

Her face burned when she heard these words, but the distress between her legs was becoming urgent, so what could she do?

Mrs. Wolfe worked with all her might to please Mr. Fox, licking and sucking as cleverly as she was capable and even using her hands too, just as he had done, so that she might earn her reward. She sucked and slurped until she was certain she had never done it so well, and she even thought up some new things that she hadn't thought of before; such was her desire to win the pleasures Mr. Fox dangled before her. And it occurred to her that this, too, was causing her loins to ache even more painfully than Mr. Fox's clever administrations had.

But, oh, how much longer until she would be granted relief? Tears filled her eyes as she continued to labor before him, nearly choking herself in her efforts to please him.

Mr. Fox was a firm believer in self-control as we have established, but he was not a machine, and his body also had its limitations. He abruptly stopped the suckling therefore, lest he should shame himself and disappoint his partner after all her commendable efforts. He said, "You have well earned your reward!" And he pulled her onto his throbbing body.

Mrs. Wolfe moaned loudly as her body was lowered onto his. It felt so good to finally have him sliding into her! At last the ache between her legs started to recede a bit as she wiggled herself up and down and forward and back, trying to get the feeling just right.

Mr. Fox was fondling and pinching her breasts, but as Mrs. Wolfe's movements became more frenzied he moved one hand down between her legs and began to help her. She gasped and moaned, once again amazed by how clever Mr. Fox was. His fingers were much more effective than her rubbing had been and she slowed her own movements to a mere rocking motion and allowed his talented fingers to do the rest. She rocked and ground her hips forward and back as his fingers twisted and teased. With his other hand he pinched the tips of her breasts.

Mrs. Wolfe was unused to this gentler style of intercourse. Her husband's more vigorous attentions revealed to her his attraction and need. Mr. Fox's absolute composure seemed almost like indifference by comparison, even if it did enhance the pleasure considerably. She closed her eyes and imagined her husband ravishing poor Mrs. Fox and this brought about a most shattering conclusion to her painstaking efforts of the evening.

She collapsed onto Mr. Fox. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly by the shoulders as he repeatedly thrust himself into her. She clung to him, trembling as he released himself into her. And Mrs. Wolfe forgot everything for a while, simply luxuriating in the soft afterglow of their lovemaking. But at last she perceived that Mr. Fox had fallen asleep, with her still rested atop and astride him. She silently extricated herself from his embrace, careful not to wake him. Then she quickly dressed and left the Foxes' bedroom.

Mrs. Fox was there to meet her in the dim hallway, and their eyes met and examined the other for a brief moment in silence. Mrs. Wolfe blushed as she wondered what Mrs. Fox must think after having this firsthand knowledge of her husband. But Mrs. Fox was experiencing the same embarrassment as she wondered the same thing! And both realized that they were better suited to their own husbands after all.

Perhaps the reader now expects me to reiterate the sage adage that the grass isn't greener on the other side, and that people ought to be content with what they have. But I'm not sure that would be the appropriate conclusion to draw from this particular tale, for Mrs. Fox and Mrs. Wolfe continue their occasional excursions into the other's bedrooms to this very day. And while it is quite true that the grass was not actually greener on the other side for either one, it turns out that it was still fairly green, after all.

And there really are so many shades of green anyway, aren't there?

Snow White in the Woods

O
nce upon a time there lived a king and queen who had everything they wanted— except a child. On cold winter evenings they would sit contentedly near the cozy hearth, the queen with her needlepoint and the king watching her, while both discussed the day's events. But every now and then, the queen would halt all activity to stare out the window at the falling snow, and there she would gaze, having completely forgotten her unfinished sentence or her needle suspended in midair. Her husband knew well what it was that arrested her attention on these occasions; she was envisioning their child.

On one such evening, the queen accidentally pricked her finger with her sewing needle. A bright red drop of blood appeared and, as the queen stared at it, she sighed deeply and murmured, "If only I could have a daughter with lips as red as this blood, skin as white as the snow outside and hair as black as the coal that burns in the fire!"

Within a year the queen's wish came to pass, and the happy couple were blessed with a daughter who had lips as red as blood, skin as white as snow and hair as black as coal. They called her Snow White.

The queen died shortly after the birth of her daughter, and a few years later her husband remarried. His new wife made a beautiful queen, and the three lived together happily for a time. But before Snow White was ten years of age her father died also, leaving her to be raised by her stepmother. The woman was kind to the child at first, but with each year that passed Snow White became more and more beautiful and, by degrees, her stepmother, who was aging and fearful of losing her own beauty, began to resent her. One day, the queen abruptly stopped the supply of beautiful gowns and other adornments that Snow White was accustomed to, and forced her to labor in the kitchen. But even in rags, Snow White's beauty could not be ignored, and to her stepmother, who was plagued day and night by the fear of losing her beauty, it seemed as if Snow White were growing more beautiful for the sole purpose of tormenting her.

Finally the queen could endure Snow White's presence no longer, so she had a servant take her away with instructions to put her to death. But the gentle servant did not harm Snow White. Instead, he took her far away into the woods and warned her of the queen's intentions. Snow White was terrified, but the servant assured her that only a short distance farther she would find a small cottage belonging to seven kind little men who lived together in the wood. The dwarfs, he promised, would keep her safe.

When the servant left her, Snow White was alone for the first time in her life. The woods were filled with strange noises, and she rushed about in search of the dwarfs' cottage. She wound her way deeper and deeper into the woods until, at length, she reached a small bungalow that could be none other than the home of the dwarfs, for the doorway was so short as to oblige Snow White to bend in order to enter through it.

With curiosity now overriding her fears, Snow White knocked several times on the small door. Realizing the dwarfs must be out, and impatient to see inside the little hut, she opened the door and let herself in.

Once inside, there remained no doubt that this was indeed the cottage of the dwarfs, for there were seven little chairs around the kitchen table, and seven place settings upon the table, and so forth. As Snow White advanced farther into the cottage, she beheld seven little chairs in a quaint little sitting room and, farther on, seven neatly made little beds in the bedroom.
What sort of men are these?
she wondered.

Now, the seven dwarfs were really seven handsome princes who had been placed under an evil spell by an angry witch. The spell, in addition to making the princes very small in stature, also caused each of them to be afflicted with a malady of sorts, so that one was plagued by continuous fits of sneezing, another by chronic sleepiness, another still by a sour disposition, and so on. Seeing no relief from their wretched situation, the princes left polite society to live quietly together in the woods, where eventually they came to be known by the characteristics they were given from the curse, so that they were called Sneezy, Sleepy, Grumpy, Happy, Dopey, Bashful and Doc. Such were the circumstances of the dwarfs when they made the acquaintance of Snow White later that evening.

From their very first meeting, Snow White was charmed by the dwarfs and felt quite safe residing with them in their little bungalow in the woods. And as for the prince-dwarfs, they each fell deeply in love with Snow White. Nothing she did failed to please them, and they doted on her in every single thing that she wished. In no time at all they became the best of friends.

Now it happened one evening that the prince-dwarfs overheard Snow White crying in her bed. Alarmed, they rushed to her side and begged her to tell them the cause of her distress. After much prodding, Snow White finally confessed her loneliness to the dwarfs, and told them of her deepest desire for a prince of her own to love. This declaration saddened the dwarfs greatly; but Doc suddenly announced that he knew a remedy for Snow White.

"What is it?" she asked.

Doc did not answer her question, asking her instead, "Do you trust your devoted dwarfs, Snow White?"

"Of course!" she cried.

"Lie down and close your eyes, then, and we shall see," he continued.

Snow White complied, and at length she felt the hands of all seven of the little men upon her body, lifting her nightdress and alighting on her bare skin.

Snow White gasped and jumped up from the bed. Whatever she had expected, it was certainly not that!

"Things are not always as they appear, dearest Snow White," advised Doc. "But we can do little to help until you are able to trust us."

And with that he and his six companions left Snow White alone with her misery.

The incident was quickly forgotten, and once again the friendship between the eight blossomed. But Snow White was still plagued in the evenings with an aching loneliness, and one night her sobs were once again heard by the dwarfs.

They rushed to Snow White's side with inquiries and entreaties. She again explained her melancholy wish for a prince of her own to love. And once again, Doc made the claim that he knew a cure.

"Please, tell me!" cried Snow White.

"Do you trust your faithful dwarfs?" he asked her.

"Yes!" she swore.

"Then lie back and close your eyes," he instructed.

Snow White did this, and within seconds she once again felt the small hands of all seven men upon her body. She gasped and jumped up.
What on earth could they be thinking?
she wondered.

"Be calm, for we could never harm you, Snow White," Doc quieted her, adding sadly, "it is enough that you still do not trust us."

And with that the seven little men left her quite alone.

The matter was again forgotten and, as the months passed and the cool winds brought snow into the forest, Snow White and the seven dwarfs grew closer than ever in the cozy little cottage. And yet, poor Snow White lamented the absence of a prince of her own to love, for all princesses cannot help but yearn for a prince. And soon the dwarfs were once again troubled by the sound of her tears.

They immediately rushed to her side, much as they had done before. She told them yet again of her desire for a princely lover. And again Doc swore he knew a cure for her loneliness.

"Do you trust your loyal dwarfs?" he asked her, just as he had before.

"With all my heart!" Snow White cried.

"Then lie back and close your eyes," said he.

This she did, and just like before she felt the light touches of the dwarfs hands, as soft as mere breaths, descending upon her face and body. She did not jump up this time, but trusted that they would not bring her to any harm.

Snow White willed her body to relax and, as she did so, warmth crept steadily over her, enveloping her in heat, and a strange tingling sensation began to stir up from within her. The fingers soon gave way to soft, moist lips that sought hers. At the first kiss to touch her lips Snow White opened her eyes, and standing before her she beheld the most beautiful prince she had ever seen. He held her hand while a second kiss claimed her lips and, there, before her gaping eyes, appeared an even more handsome prince, and then another, and still another, until the seven dwarfs had all regained their princely form, each more magnificent than the last. Every prince was uniquely different from the others, yet all of them were striking in their masculinity and physical perfection. One had flaxen hair and eyes of blue, while another had russet colored hair and dark eyes. One chest was covered in manly curls, while another remained as smooth as silk. Even the color of their skin was singular and unique amid them, for the flesh of one prince was as black as coal, while another's was the color of stained walnut, and still another had skin that was exceedingly fair. In short, there was not one masculine characteristic, no matter how minute, lacking among the seven men.