The Hypnotic Adventures Of CinderellaChapter 6: Cinderella's Choice free porn video

"You've got to be kidding!' Cindy giggled. She was lying on her stomach on Betty's bed, her chin propped in her hands, her bare legs and toes flexing, her eyes wide. "Pablo?"

"Weirdest thing I ever saw," Betty responded, lying beside her. "I got feeling all guilty in the middle of the night, and went back down to see if Bimbo was down there by herself somewhere, but she wasn't, so I figured that she'd left with the guys. And then this morning, I got up early and went down for a little breakfast ... and there she was, sitting across from him, holding his hand, and they were looking into each other's eyes like they were indulging in some serious infatuation. Seems that Pablo went up to make sure that all the doors were locked up after our little party, and he found her in the library. When he woke her up, she thought he was one of the 'guys, ' and she told him that she was really tired of doing it on the couch, and begged him to take her to a bed somewhere and let her screw him there. So he, being a real gentleman, took her to HIS room downstairs, and I guess they fucked like bunnies the rest of the night. She was asking him to come to her place for dinner tonight!"

"Poor Pablo," Cindy muttered. "I bet he has a better English vocabulary that she does ... and I can't even IMAGINE how she cooks!" She pondered things for a minute. "When did YOU leave the party?" she asked.

Betty shrugged. "A little before midnight, I guess. I don't know when the guys left ... but one of them most certainly didn't leave under his own power."

"Because he was drunk?" Cindy guessed.

"Because I kicked him in the crotch so hard, his balls are probably in his lungs," she said acidly.

"You did WHAT?"

"He hit me, the asshole. I told him that he'd better NEVER do that again ... and of course, he did it again ... slapped me right across the face. I had a boyfriend once that taught me how to punt a football ... and that's just what I did with his nuts. The asshole obviously really gets off on hitting women, because his pecker was sticking straight up, so I'm afraid there was nothing else to pad it. He didn't even yell. He just opened his mouth really wide, he turned sort of blue all over, and he keeled over to one side. I just left him squirming around on the floor, and walked upstairs and went to bed."

"I know how you feel," Cindy said quietly.

"OH! MY! GOD! He hit you, too, didn't he? The asshole hit you, too!"

"Oh, yes," Cindy said. "Looking back on it now, I guess he didn't really hurt me THAT much, but it sure seemed like it at the time. I don't think I've EVER been so afraid!"

Betty actually had tears in her eyes. "Aw, Cindy ... THAT'S what I was trying to protect you from! I can't BELIEVE I caved in and let you stay! I was such a dummy!"

"It's okay. The next guy was REALLY sweet. He sort of made up for any of the bad stuff."

"The short one?" Betty guessed.

Cindy blushed. "Yes."

"He's the 'Prince' I was telling you about last night. And guess what? I've got a date with him tonight!"

Cindy suddenly sobered. "You're going out with him?"

"What's the matter, baby sister? Jealous?" Betty looked at her for a long moment. "Hey, you ARE, aren't you? Are you hung up on the guy?"

Cindy shrugged. She tried to smile, but failed. "I thought maybe something was there. I guess not." She thought for a moment. "Are you getting back into guys now?"

Betty sighed. "I don't know. I just can't let go of the idea of HER, you know? Oh, man, I loved that girl! But, maybe Mom is right. Find a rich guy and take him for all he's worth. And he WAS sort of sweet last night. Not only gentle ... but a gentleman, you know what I mean?"

"Yes," Cindy said, barely above a whisper. "I know what you mean."

"Hey, baby sister ... if this isn't okay with you, I'll tell the guy to go fuck himself. No kidding."

"No, I'm being silly. I'm just a stupid maid, for goodness sake! He's a Prince! Of carpets, or whatever."

"Mom says that he sold out the whole shebang, lock, stock and linoleum. She says he hated the family business. He's into some weird, off-the-wall hobby now. Books or something." She contemplated this. "Could be worse, I guess. Mom said he called her about noon today and wanted to know who the three girls were ... said he wanted to get in touch with one of them. Mom told him that her own daughter was one of them, and she made up some story about me being a last-minute replacement to help a friend. THAT really seemed to get him interested, and so she put me on the phone, and he asked me out. Five-star restaurant, even." She pondered the situation. "Of course, he's done it to me once ... so he's just going to naturally assume that he can do it again." She lapsed into silence.

"I've got to get back to work," Cindy said sullenly. She left Betty to worry about her night out ... or whether she really wanted one. Once again, the afternoon workout was on her own. Daddy thought she was brooding during dinner, so she tried to cheer up for his sake. Pablo was out for the evening (Cindy didn't tell the others that she knew where he had gone), and so when the doorbell rang, she excused herself and went to answer it.

And there he was. It was him, no doubt about it (she could tell by his height and the color of his eyes), and her heart skipped a beat, despite her self-deprecating attitude. He looked like a million bucks, dressed casually in a white turtleneck and sports coat. But his gaze didn't settle on her at all ... it slid over her shoulder to Betty, who was coming down the stairs with Stepmother. Introductions were made (excluding the hired help, of course), but Cindy couldn't help but notice that his eyes narrowed a bit as he observed his date for the evening. "I'll have her home by midnight, ma'am," he told Stepmother cordially.

Stepmother blanched at the moniker, but kept her smile pasted on for effect. "No hurry at all. You two have fun," she told them. "Drive safely. It's supposed to rain tonight, and they say it might be icy, too." He promised they would be careful, and then they were off in the same Mercedes that had brought the revelers the night before.

It turned out to be a long night. Cindy did some laundry and finally went to her room rather late. She tried to read, but she found the book sappy and juvenile. In her mind, she kept wondering what Betty and the Prince were doing at that moment. Dinner had to be long-over, she thought. She tried to rationalize things ... approach them logically in her mind. It simply didn't make any sense that she should feel this way about somebody she had no chance at all of being with, while Betty looked upon sex as simply something that needed to be done ... a chore to be tolerated.

Well, except when she was thinking about Juno, of course. THAT was different. In her room today, she had spoken about sex with... (what was his name, she wondered. He simply COULDN'T call himself "Prince"). Anyway, Betty had spoken about the prospect of sex with him as something that should be tolerated because it had happened before. B follows A, and C follows B; therefore, etc, etc, etc. Oh, but when CINDY had been with him ... well all logic was suddenly called off. Had it really all been her imagination? Had it been an illusion?

She listened to the rain outside, and decided that it was really pouring now. She looked at her alarm clock; eleven-thirty. If he was true to his word, he would have her back, soon. She got up and went to the window overlooking the driveway. Holy cow, it was raining hard! If they were still on the highway, they'd probably be creeping along in this stuff. Maybe they'd just stay together ... in a motel room, maybe. Cindy's imagination was really running rampant.

She strained her eyes, then she went to the far wall and switched off the overhead light before coming back to the window. She squinted into the drenched darkness, looking past the driveway, looking at something strange about a hundred yards away in the flickering gloom. Somebody was there. The longer she stayed, peering at it, the more certain she was. Whoever it was, he wasn't moving ... just standing there in the awful rain.

And suddenly, she knew.

She raced out of the room without bothering to change out of her robe ... down the stairs ... down the short distance to the closet that held the vacuum cleaner. She'd seen it a hundred times, and had never really thought about it until now ... the yellow rain slicker. There was an umbrella, too, and she snatched it up while struggling to cover her robed figure with the raincoat. She didn't even pause to shut the front door behind her, leaving the huge portal wide open, and she raced forward into the downpour.

OH MY, it was cold! In the snugness of the mansion, she had never realized how chill the evening had become. It was one of those early-winter nights when people would remark "A few degrees colder, and we'd be having a blizzard." As she grew closer, the figure finally moved ... moved away from her, albeit slowly. What should she do? If it was her out there, what could be said to stop her? Ah, she knew the answer to that, too.

"Juno!" she cried. "Stop and obey!"

The figure froze and just stood there, uncertain, immobile. Cindy was upon her now, and she struggled with the umbrella to open it, finally holding it above the shivering, slender form. She put her arm around her. "Oh my, Juno, you're freezing! How long have you been out here?" Without waiting for an answer, she began leading the slight girl toward the house. As they walked, Juno struggled to speak, but evidently found it impossible. They were inside now, and Cindy simply dumped the umbrella in the foyer, paused long enough to close the door and shuck off the raincoat, and she was back again, her arm around the girl, leading her up the stairs, leaving a long, wet, watery trail behind them from Juno's dripping clothes. She took her to her own bathroom ... why, she didn't really know ... and she started the shower to get the water temperature up. Juno's clothes were sodden and difficult to get off, but the girl simply stood there, not fighting, not helping, as Cindy stripped her bare. Finally, fearing that the girl would collapse if she let go of her, she drew off her own robe and then pulled Juno into the warm shower. She wasn't sure how to treat hypothermia. If the water was too hot, would it pose a risk? She simply didn't know, so she left the temperature warm, but not too hot, and she took one of Juno's arms and began rubbing it briskly. (Cindy would read later that her choice of treatment was all wrong.)

Juno looked at her blankly. "Is Betty... ?"

"She's out tonight. She should be back soon."

The girl blinked. "You're Cindy."

"Yes, I'm Cindy."

"I ... I thought I was going to hate you," the girl said. She staggered and tripped into Cindy's arms, shaking uncontrollably.

Cindy put her arms around her. "Oh my," she mumbled. "You're REALLY cold!"

And suddenly, Betty was there. "WHAT! THE! FUCK!?" she screamed, staring at them.

Cindy had no stomach for games. "Damn it, Betty, HELP ME!" she hollered back.

Betty's eyes went wide, and she appeared to physically stagger back under Cindy's rebuke. "What ... what... ?"

And, of course, Juno chose this moment to suddenly become aware of her surroundings. She noticed Betty for the first time, and with a plaintive cry, she ran out of the shower stall and into her arms, immediately soaking the evening dress Betty was wearing. "SHIT, Juno ... you're FREEZING!"

Cindy followed Juno out of the shower after turning it off, grabbed a towel and began drying the dripping, slender figure; which was not an easy task to accomplish when two lovers are clutching each other. She dried herself, as well. Finally, she snatched another dry towel, pressed her own naked body against Juno's bare back, and wrapped the towel around all of them like a blanket. (Cindy would read later that this was actually an EXCELLENT way to treat hypothermia.)

They stayed like that for a long, long time. Slowly, it dawned on Cindy that she was the only one in this strange threesome who was not crying like a baby, and she felt that, if the medical crisis was over, she should leave the two lovebirds alone. "Do you think you're going to be okay?" she asked tentatively. Not getting an answer, she said: "I think we should get her into your room, Betty. Strip and hold her against you for body heat and keep covered up. As soon as I help you get her there, I'll go get some cocoa or something. Lord knows how long she was out in the cold rain!"

"What the fuck did you think you were DOING?" Betty chided, starting to lead her lover toward the other wing of the mansion. Cindy, also wrapped in a towel, helped support the girl on the other side.

"I ... I ... HAD to see you," Juno said in a weak voice, her teeth chattering. "I HAD to! I made the cabbie drop me off at the gate at the head of the driveway. But when I got closer, I started worrying that this was the wrong house. And then I started worrying that it was the RIGHT house! I mean, what was I supposed to do ... knock on the door and say: 'Pardon me, but does my white lesbian lover live here?'"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Cindy said loudly. "You two DESERVE each other! You're both IDIOTS!"

And, as if things couldn't get any worse, one of the doors in front of them opened, and Stepmother was standing there, glaring at them. Juno, like a frightened little animal, turned toward Betty, threw her arms around her lover and buried her face into the side of her neck, shivering uncontrollably. Unfortunately, as she did so, the towel that was wrapped around her slid off, leaving her completely nude.

"What in the world is going on out here?" the woman demanded.

"Um ... Mom ... I ... uh..." Betty stammered.

Cindy detached herself from the other two and stepped forward, grasping her mistress's arm. "Stepmother, please. We're in the middle of a little crisis here, and it would be SO much better if you'd let us handle it right now. Betty can explain it all to you tomorrow ... please..."

Slowly, slowly, a small smile spread across Stepmother's face. "At last," she muttered, " ... at long last, a little light begins to dawn." But then her expression turned to one of worry, and she reached out and put a hand on Juno's shoulder. "Are you alright, my dear?"

Before anyone could answer, Cindy put her lips to her ear and whispered: "Stepmother, you REALLY should let Betty handle this herself."

The woman nodded. "Very well ... you're right, of course. I'll bid you goodnight, then." And she went back into her room and shut the door without further comment.

Cindy got the two girls settled in Betty's room, went and made hot chocolate, in hopes of getting some warm liquid into the shivering Juno (yet another proper treatment for hypothermia, she would find out later), then spent the next half hour mopping up the water that Juno had dripped from the front door all the way up the stairs to Cindy's bathroom (which, of course, was the way Betty had tracked them there and found them together). About two o'clock, she finally tumbled into bed, and she was asleep practically as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The next day, Cindy was restocking all the bathrooms on the upper floor when Betty and Juno found her. "Mom's given you the rest of the day off," Betty said, smiling. "The three of us are going shopping together. No ... don't try to argue! It's all arranged. Just drop everything right where it is and follow us!"

Their first stop was at a beauty salon, where all three had their hair done, then lunch, and then to the best dress shop in the mall, where each of them tried on a half-dozen dresses each, commenting on each other's choices, and finally, they decided to wear their purchases out of the store, carrying their old clothes in shopping bags. Next stop, the shoe store, where Cindy found herself in a new pair of heels to match the dress. She had never done this type of shopping before, of course ... never had the money, the time or the inclination. But she had to admit that she was having the time of her life. This was the first time she had really had a chance to get to know Juno, and she found the young woman bright, witty and a lot of fun to be with. Like Cindy, she had never been a part of this type of shopping spree before. And now, to top it all off, Betty took them both to the cosmetic counter in the mall's high-class department store and commanded a "makeover" from the sales representatives, making it more than worth their while by purchasing in excess of five hundred dollars worth of cosmetics.

During this last exercise in femininity, however, Betty started checking her wristwatch frequently, and wound up rushing things a little at the end. She drove home rapidly, and perhaps a little recklessly, pulling up in the driveway behind a now-familiar Mercedes sports car. "The Prince" was leaning nonchalantly on the trunk of the vehicle, watching them drive up.

"Hey, Betty. I thought we had a date," he said, smiling.

"I'm just using my womanly prerogative by being ever so fashionably late," she answered sweetly. "Raymond, I'd like you to meet my two best friends in the whole world." She turned and indicated them. "This is Juno, and THIS" (pause for effect) "is Cindy. Ladies, may I introduce you to Raymond, the erstwhile Prince of Carpets."

Cindy fidgeted while Juno shook hands, and then extended her own. His hand was warm and strong, and his eyes glittered as he swept them up and down her body, finally letting them rest on her own. "Do I know you?" he asked pleasantly.

"Cindy let you in yesterday evening," Betty said sweetly.

He nodded. "Please forgive me, Cindy. I don't know why, but I thought you were the maid."

"I ... I AM the maid," she answered, before Betty had a chance to explain.

And instead of being embarrassed, he threw back his head and laughed merrily. "Well," he said smoothly, "besides being the maid AND one of Betty's best friends, you're also distractingly pretty. Please pardon me for staring." He finally let go of her hand while she blushed and looked down self-consciously. "Okay, Betty," he said, turning to her, "ready to go?"

"No," Betty said smugly. "The truth of the matter is that I want to tell my two friends a little story. Do you mind?" He gave her a quizzical look and shrugged. "Ladies," Betty continued, "once upon a time, there was a prince. This prince, a brave, chivalrous fellow, attended a masked costume party, and there, he fell in love with a girl ... and, coincidentally, he fucked her silly ... not necessarily in that order. Unfortunately, at the height of this occurrence, he was: Number One, high as a kite because somebody had spiked his drink; and Number Two, unable to learn his new love's identity, because of her mask. He doesn't know what she LOOKS like, but the one thing he DOES know is what she FEELS like. He'll never forget how they 'fit' together. Later, he decided that he must pursue this girl ... he must find her at all cost. Eventually, he located one girl who he believed was there that night. He wined her and he dined her and he coaxed her into his bed; but alas, he did not 'fit' inside her the way he had with the woman of his dreams. Is he doomed, do you think, to fuck every girl in the city until he finally finds the one who will prove to be the lock to his key?"

Well, he was certainly blushing now. He sighed and straightened his shoulders. "Look, Betty," he said quietly, "I'm really sorry if I embarrassed you last night. I had no intention of..."

"Don't be silly, Raymond," she said, grinning. "I had a GREAT time last night. I really did. And, I'm glad that you invited me out again. You're really sweet, no shit. But the truth of the matter is that Juno and I have something we need to do instead. So, I was wondering if you could do me a BIG favor. Would you mind taking Cindy out tonight, instead?"

Cindy's eyes went wide. Raymond seemed clearly taken aback, but he turned again to Betty's friend, the maid, and he stared at her curiously before once again addressing Betty. "I don't get it. Why the elaborate story?"

"I have no secrets from my friends," she said, suddenly serious. "Cindy's the sweetest girl in the whole world. I know that she'd love to go out with you, but I want her to know the whole story before she does."

He regarded all three of them and finally broke out in a boyish smile. "Alright, I get it. Well, Betty, I hope you and Juno enjoy the evening together ... somehow I think you will. And Cindy, if you would consent to letting me escort you to dinner, I promise that there will be no ulterior motives involved. I'd really like to take you out. What do you say?""

"I ... um..." She looked questioningly at Betty. " ... sure. I'd love to."

"I think that whole story is so amazing," Juno said, putting a hand on his arm. "I hope you find her someday."

"I'll let you guys know," he responded. He put out a hand to Cindy. "Shall we?" She let herself be led around the vehicle and settled into the passenger seat of the sports car, and she waved wonderingly at the other two as they sped off.

On the way to the restaurant, which was down south, out in the country, he talked about the weather, about the region, about the history of the places they passed, and on and on. He kept stealing little glances at her ... at her face, at her figure, at her legs, which were in a new pair of nylon stockings. He made her feel feminine, alluring, and she glowed in an almost permanent blush. Eventually, she began to loosen up a little and respond to his banter. And finally, they were talking and talking and talking. The restaurant was wonderful. EVERYTHING was wonderful, though there were awkward moments, like when he wanted to order wine and she pointed out that she didn't bring her purse along, so she had no ID. She didn't bother to mention that the ID would not have allowed her to have the wine, anyway. During the "makeover" that afternoon, her appearance had gone from 18 to 23 in 30 minutes flat.

Eventually, of course, the topic of conversation turned to books, though it was obvious that he was very reticent to do so, afraid that he would bore her. The result of this focus of discussion, however, left him astounded that a girl so shy and reserved would speak her mind so honestly. For example, Cindy espoused the belief that Slaughterhouse Five would eventually become known as one of the one hundred most important books ever written; but she also believed that Breakfast of Champions was a literary failure (simply too "cute," she said). Whether he manifestly supported her opinion or vehemently disagreed, he suddenly realized how starved he was for the mental opportunity to do either with any human being, much less someone he found intoxicatingly attractive. As the talk continued, they physically drew closer, leaning toward each other, resting a hand on each other's for emphasis.

She asked about his "collection," and he told her that he sought "pulp" books and magazines. When she professed her ignorance about this type of literature, he explained that cheap, literary magazines of the 1920's, 30's, 40's and 50's were made from 100% pulp paper, like newspapers and the old-style comic books. In 1939, when the "modern paperback" first appeared in the U.S., they also used cheap paper (and only charged 25-cents per book). A few companies, such as Gold Medal and Lion, printed "paperback originals;" in other words, first editions in paperback. He was flabbergasted to find that she was hanging on his every word. He talked about the importance of first editions to collectors, their condition, and their dust jackets.

"Dust jackets," she remarked, nodding. "Slip covers are for furniture."

And he froze. A long, full minute passed, during which she realized what she had said, and she lowered her gaze, blushing. At last, she stole a peek at him. He was pale, and he was shaking slightly. "I'm sorry," she said, honestly. "I ... I didn't mean to say that. Please ... can't we just keep talking? I would really like to keep talking to you. I wouldn't mind if we kept talking ... forever."

"It was you," he said breathlessly. "You were there. You're the girl in the library."

"Yes," she said in a voice so slight that he almost couldn't hear. And then, slowly, the expression on his face changed ... changed to display the worst possible emotions he could have, in her opinion. Happiness, joy, contentment, longing and love all shone in his eyes. And a tear slid from hers. "Oh, Raymond," she told him in a hushed tone, "can't you see what type of girl I am? Can't you see that this is one of those books you start reading, and you know, instinctively, that it can't possibly have a happy ending?"

He barked a laugh. "And yet, we keep on reading, don't we? Some books, you simply can't put down. And I don't CARE what 'type' of girl you are. We are human. We fall in love first and then spend the rest of our lives adapting to 'types.' But we do adapt. And I do love that girl I held in my arms that night. And if you are that girl, then there's nothing you can say that would make me believe that you aren't in love with me, too. And I also refuse to believe that our ending won't be happy until we finish writing the story ourselves."

She was really crying now. "Oh, please. Please take me out of here. Take me somewhere and ... and let me hold you again. Just for a little while. Please."

She let him help her out of her chair; and she let him lead her out to the car; and she sat silently in the passenger seat, trying to control her tears; and she watched as he pulled into the first motel they came to; and she stood silently beside him while he paid cash to the man at the front desk and listened to him make snide remarks, like: "Can I help you with your luggage, folks?" and "We have a free breakfast down here in the lobby from six to nine-thirty;" and she leaned into him as he put his arm around her and led her to the elevator and down the hall and into the plain room. But then she was lost in a world where there was just the two of them. He held her, crushing her in his arms, and the kiss went on and on and on and on. She let her body collapse into his, clung to him with what little strength she could muster, and felt the room whirl around them. His lips were at her neck now, his hands at her back, unzipping the new dress, while she kept her arms wrapped around his neck, allowing him access to whatever part of her he wanted.

She toed out of the heels as the flimsy dress slid down her body and pooled at her feet. His hand seemed to only stroke her back, and the bra miraculously snapped free of her. She allowed him to push her body back away from his, let his gaze rake her breasts and nipples, and she blushed demurely as he muttered to himself: "Perfect. Just perfect." This was the first time she had worn nylons stocking and a garter belt in her life, but fortunately, he seemed to have had at least some experience with them, for he made short work of the task, and she lounged back on the bed, completely naked, waiting for him as he disrobed, exactly as it had happened during their last encounter two nights before.

They kissed again, like the two thirsty lovers they were, drinking from the tender contact, but their desire never quenched. His hands were all over her, and hers responded, grasping him, stroking him, releasing her hold on his cock only to fill her hand with his balls. He groaned into her mouth and responded by finding and fondling her clitoris, pinching it lightly, pulling on it.

"Oh, please," she begged. "Don't make me cum yet! I'm ready for you! Please?"

"You sure are," he told her, kissing her again and then grinning down at her. "You're soaking down there."

She blushed. "I can't help it. You make me feel so powerless!"

He positioned himself between her legs while she reached down again, grasped his cock and guided it to its target. Then she reached back up and put both arms around his neck. The tip of his cock was in, but he didn't push down into her, and with a whine, she began straining her hips upward. "Please! Don't make me wait anymore!" And he began pushing into her, slowly, slowly. She gasped loudly and began to shiver. "Oh, Raymond, I hope I'm the girl you want me to be," she said in a little-girl voice.

"But you know you are, don't you?" he moaned, pushing further in. Further yet. And finally, finally, they were pressed together ... firmly together, touching from head to toe. "You're the one, Cindy. We fit. Do you feel it? You do, don't you?"

One of her hands was in his hair, "Oh, Raymond. Oh..."

He began his rhythmic strokes now, and, sensing that she wanted him to take her hard, he made his downward thrusts powerful, harsh, almost violent. Immediately, her legs came up and encircled his hips, pulling him into her with all her might. "OH!" she cried after each crushing assault. "OH! OH! OH! OH!" and eventually her exclamations went up in pitch and volume, until the dam burst and the orgasm flooded her body. He was right behind her, and with a shout, he slammed fully into her body, crushed her to himself with his strong arms, and his cock lurched and pulsed inside her.

Long, long minutes later, resting on their sides but still clutching each other, his cock still impaling her, they both sighed, their desperate embrace easing as their bodies nestled together. "Would you really have done that to every girl in the city until you found me?" she asked him.