Some Things
Never Really Change
by Patricia
Harrington
The prince
knew that the sleeping beauty lay waiting in a
slumber that only his kiss could awaken. He had
traveled many miles to reach the raven-haired and
beautiful princess. The prince thought of the
rumored curse that had condemned such innocence
to a life without laughter and love. But he would
soon change all that. As he neared the castle, he
could almost taste the sleeping beauty's sweet,
cool lips stilled by the witchs jealous
cruelty, far too long. A surge of desire pulsed
in the prince. Under his ardent kiss, the
princess would come passionately alive, and be
his and only his, forever grateful, and always by
his side.
The prince
dismounted and bounded up the castles
decaying steps. He searched the bedrooms in a
heated rush until he found the one with the
object of his desire. He went to the princess and
looked down, coveting her lovely face and body,
her soft, round bosom that rose and fell sweetly,
gently. Soon . . . soon . . . he leaned over and
kissed her. At first, the sleeping beautys
lips were lifeless and unyielding, like cold
marble. But then he felt them warming and
trembling under his ardent kiss. The ultimate
thrill of conquest and victory ran hot and molten
though his body, his face flushing, his loins hot
with desire as he pressed her close.
The young,
sleeping beauty arched her body and brought her
arms around the prince. Slowly, languidly, she
opened her eyes and looked deeply into his. She
sighed. At last! Then she took a
knife concealed in her sleeve, raised it high and
then plunged it into his back. A film of betrayal
glazed his eyes, and she smiled with satisfaction.
Sleeping
Beauty pushed the princes heavy body aside
and stood up. She wiped the knife clean on his
tunic, brushed her long hair away from her face
and straightened her gown. Now, on to
another prince and another kingdom, she
said briskly.
In the
chambers doorway, the cruel witch had been
waiting and watching. When Sleeping Beauty
reached her, she said, Good work, my pretty
dear. Men and princes are such fools. Theyll
believe a silly tale and pretty woman, every time.
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