Sleeping Beauty (Erotic Fairy Tales)

Sleeping Beauty

An Erotic Fairy Tale

Copyright 2012 Leila Bryce Sin

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

 

In a distant land, beyond the third rise of mountains, there can be found a round thicket of thistle and thorn that has grown taller than any man. Legend claims, beyond the wall of bramble and thorns, there is hidden a castle full of people and animals and even the royal court, all deep in an enchanted sleep. One hundred years have passed since the spell was cast upon the palace when the young princess, Rosamond, pricked her delicate finger upon a spindle.

When Rosamond was born, the King was so happy he called for a great feast to be thrown in her honor. Anyone and everyone was invited to come give their blessing upon his daughter, including twelve of the thirteen wise women of the realm. It was custom that these magical ladies were only served on golden plates and having only twelve golden plates, the King could only invite twelve of the thirteen and beg the thirteenth for forgiveness later.

As the feast commenced and the people were making merry, one by one, the wise women approached Rosamond in her gilded bassinet to bless her with their magical gifts. One blessed her with prosperity, another with beauty, virtue, music and so on until there was only one wise woman left to bless her. Just as the twelfth wise woman was reaching out her hand to touch Rosamond’s smooth cheek there was a great commotion in the hall, making her snatch her hand away.

The thirteenth wise woman, the one the King had failed to invite, stood in all her rage and glory in the middle of the hall. Her magic pulsed around her, making children shrink away from her. Her voice rang out, reverberating against the walls as she cursed the lovely child, “In the eighteenth year of her age, the Princess shall prick herself with a spindle and shall fall down dead.”

In a clap of thunder the wise woman disappeared, leaving her evil spell hanging over the silent and shocked crowd. The twelfth wise woman turned her eyes up to the King and Queen, seeing their terror she knew she had to do what she could to help. With a deep breath she turned back to the baby, still quiet and peaceful in her little bassinet.

“Rosamond,” the woman said, stroking her cheek, “I cannot undo my sister’s curse, but perhaps I can soften it.” She gathered her magic about her, making the room freeze for a moment in time until she spoke again. “The Princess shall not die, but fall into a deep sleep for a hundred years. When her true love hears of her tale he, and he alone, shall scale the obstacles to come to her aid and with true love’s first kiss, the Princess shall once again awaken.”

Desperate to save his daughter from this fate, the King decreed that all spindles were to be destroyed, burned on a great pyre, and the future construction of any was outlawed. And so their lives continued in peace and happiness; Rosamond enjoyed the lovely gifts the eleven wise women had bestowed upon her for eighteen wonderful years.

When Rosamond turned eighteen and no horrible fate befell her after a few months, the King and Queen went riding, though the Princess was not allowed to leave the castle until after her nineteenth birthday. Having grown bored, Rosamond left her room and began wandering the castle, visiting the kitchens, the stables and any other room she could find until she came to a narrow stairwell she’d never seen before.

The stairs were slick with age and spiraled up into a tight column. Rosamond kept her hand on the wall for balance until she finally came to the top. The stairs led to a dark little room where an old woman was sitting on a small stool, bent over a strange contraption with a large wheel. Her gnarled hands were turning the wheel slowly and feeding straw into it.

“Good day,” Rosamond said as she approached, “what is it that you are doing?”

“I am spinning,” the old woman answered simply. Rosamond had never seen such a contraption in her life, it intrigued her. She reached out a hand to touch the strange machine and as the woman watched, Rosamond pricked her sender finger on the point of the spindle needle. Rosamond gasped and snatched her hand back, clutching it to her chest. She became dizzy and stumbled, falling onto the small bed set against the wall in the room. And there she slept, the thirteenth wise woman’s laugh echoing in her mind.

As Rosamond fell into her enchanted sleep, so did every living thing in the castle. When her parents rode back onto the castle grounds they too fell asleep, right next to their horses in the stables. Not so much as a squirrel in a tree stirred. The twelve wise women came then and conjured the thistles and thorns, circling the entire palace grounds to protect all therein, setting the spell so that only Rosamond’s one true love could part the deadly trap and reach her and therefore break the spell. Over the years many a King’s son had come to attempt to rescue the sleeping Princess, but not a one could breech the deadly thorns, and so they slept.

And so Rosamond dreamt.

Men came to her in her dreams, handsome, daring men in dark leathers and shining armor. But try as they might, they never reached her. Rosamond was trapped in her little tower, gazing out of her little window, destined to watch the men call out for her but never to reach her.

Until one night, when the moon was hanging full in the sky, casting a sliver glow over the castle grounds. Rosamond could hear his voice, it was sweet and rich and when she looked out her window, she saw him slashing at the brambles with his sword. The branches crumbled under his strength and the Prince cut a path through the thistle and thorns. Rosamond leaned out her window, eagerly watching his progression and lifted a hand to him, waving at him when he looked up. A smile broke out on his face that made her heart skip a beat.

The Prince didn’t bother with running through the sleeping castle, trying in vain to find his love; he rushed to the tower, sheathed his sword and began to scale the very stones of the wall. Rosamond watched with wide, blue eyes, terrified he would slip and fall to his death as she watched, but the closer he came the fast her heart beat and she found herself reaching out for him. Watching him climb to her, Rosamond felt as though she had always known this man; she knew what his rich black hair felt like in her fingers, she knew what his pale warm lips felt like crushed against her own and she knew what his arms felt like when they were around her body.

Finally the Prince vaulted through the window, landing lightly in his leather boots. Rosamond rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck and claimed his mouth in an eager, hungry kiss. The Prince wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off of her feet. Rosamond took his lower lip between her teeth and sucked on it, making him groan into her mouth. He walked, holding her off of the ground, until their legs bumped into the bed against the wall.

Slowly, he lowered her to the bed, leaning over her until her arms slid from around his neck and she laid back, her beautiful spun gold hair was a halo under her head. He stood and undid the buckle of his belt while her fingers were frantically pulling at the strings of her corset until it fell open around her, leaving only the fabric of her dress to hide her lovely body. The Prince let his belt with his sword drop to the floor with a clatter and when his boots where off he came back to the bed, desperate to be near her again.

The Prince lowered himself over Rosamond slowly, letting his body settle over hers. She lifted her legs to wrap them around his hips, causing the length of her dress to pool around her hips and waist. His hands slid under her dress, exploring the hidden curves under the thin fabric. His hands were warm on her cool skin, burning a path along her sides until he cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing softly over her nipples, making them tighten, impatient for attention. His lips were on the curve of her neck and Rosamond opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling, a lazy smile curling her lips as she enjoyed the attention her body was receiving.

She felt his fingers shift, rolling her nipples slowing between thumb and forefinger as he sucked on the muscle of her shoulder, making her squirm under him, rubbing her wet, silky folds against the rough fabric of his pants. Rosamond moaned as the tiny shockwaves of pleasure raced through her body, and she couldn’t stop herself from rubbing against the hard bulge between her legs, feeling a warmth begin to spread through her as her body throbbed under the Prince.

Rosamond felt the Prince pulling away from her, she whimpered, making him chuckle, a low rumbling sound. But when he sat up, he drew her with him so that he could gather up the pooled fabric of her dress and lift it over her head. Rosamond was naked for him then, her breasts firm and round, untouched by another, her nipples hard and red from his earlier attention, the swell of her hips leading to slender legs and he knew he wanted to feel them wrapped around him.

The Prince leaned forward, his hands on either side of Rosamond, causing her to lean back, but as she fell back onto the bed she grasped his shirt and pulled it over his head. She tossed it to the ground and watched as he fought with his pants to get them off. She giggled behind her hand as he struggled with the knots of the tie, realizing, in his excitement, he was only making it worse. She reached, batting his hands away, and carefully worked the knots out for him. He grinned down at her, his cheeks red with slight embarrassment before he stepped off of the bed to let his pants fall to the ground with the rest of the discarded clothing.

Before he could come back on the bed with her, Rosamond leaned over the edge of the bed and grasped his hard, swollen length, holding it still as she opened her mouth, sliding her wet, red lips over the tip of his cock. The Prince groaned, letting his head drop back as he twined his fingers into the silky gold of Rosamond’s hair. Her mouth slid back and forth over his length, feeling it swell as she sucked on him, her hand stroking up and down, following her lips.

In a spark of inspiration, Rosamond flipped onto her back, her lips swirling around the head of his cock as she did, making the Prince gasp in surprise. When he looked down he saw Rosamond’s taught, nubile body spread out in front of him. Her knees were bent and slightly open, inviting him, her hands were around his hips, guiding him forward, making her breasts jiggle in time with his slow movements.

The Prince reached down and gathered the soft mounds of her breasts in his hot hands, massaging and caressing them as he began to fuck her sweet mouth. His hips moving back and forwards as his cock slid in and out of her mouth, her lips dragging along the taught skin, her teeth grazing his shaft. When he teased her nipples between his fingers she moaned around his cock, making her tongue massage the soft vein and he had to force himself not to slam his cock into her mouth, making his fingers dig into her breasts. Her fair skin ran red between his fingers and she answered him in kind, digging her nails into the skin of his hips, the pain making his cock jump in her mouth.

Rosamond slid his cock out of her mouth to catch her breath and the Prince took the opportunity to pay her back and bent over her body until his mouth found the soft down between her legs. She was wet and ready for him. He drew her lips into his mouth, sucking on them, tasting her sweet juices before the tip of his tongue slipped between them, searching for the swollen clit and finding it. He flicked his tongue over it, making her hips buck up, forcing herself against his face as her fingers dug into his hips again.

He laid the flat of his tongue on the swollen bud and began to lap at her, making Rosamond moan in pleasure. She opened her legs wider for him until her knees rested on the bed, opening herself completely for him. The Prince sucked eagerly on her clit and slipped two fingers into her, sliding in and out of her, making her wetter and wetter. He felt her body spasm around his fingers, gripping him, and in another moment he slipped a third finger into her. He fucked her with his fingers as he sucked on her, his tongue working at her until she was squirming on the bed, her cries of pleasure echoing in the room around them.

He felt her shift and before he knew what she was doing he felt her hand around his cock again and she was stroking him, hard and fast, her hand slamming into the base of him, in time with his own fingers inside of her. Her lips slid over the soft skin of his balls, sucking gently on each one, playing with them, running her tongue between them. He felt her mouth on the hard muscle behind his balls and she began to suck on him as he was sucking on her, her hand still stroking him. She bucked her hips again, grinding against his mouth, faster and faster, her pussy gripping his fingers until he was fighting to pump them into her and he knew she was terribly, terribly close to the edge, just as he was. Her tongue worked at the muscle she was sucking on, her hand swirled up his cock, massaging the head before she came back down. He sucked harder, deeper on her, working his fingers in a frenzy until the muscles of his arm were on fire with his effort. Before he knew it she was thrashing on the bed under him, grinding into his face as her juices came over his fingers and she was practically biting down on him, her screams muffled against his body as her orgasm ripped through her body.

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