Cinderella - Sex Stories

Cinderella

... alone inside. Oliver taking her by the shoulders, speaking with an unusual note of seriousness. “You keep giving away your power to other people,” he had said. “Start taking some back. Put that mask on, throw your shoulders back and be the alpha dog for the night. Everyone else? They’re your bitches.” Emma smiled. “You know what? I am ok. More than ok. I’m ready.” She waited for the car door to be opened. As she stood, threatening to totter for one terrifying second, paparazzi engulfed her like a wave. Alpha dog. Alpha dog. She lifted her skirts slightly; the shoes shone. Emma alpha-dogged like a pro. Up the red carpet, through the doors, into the dark, cavernous room full of elegant figures and pounding music… and very rapidly over to the darkest corner of the VIP area. She stood rigid, like a frightened animal, taking slugs of the free champagne while mentally cataloging every guest she could see. That’s not the judge from the news this morning, is it? Didn't know he liked blondes so much. I wonder if his wife is as much of a fan. “You know, there’s a roof terrace.” Emma jumped; the barman backed away, his hands up. “I didn't mean to scare you!” “No, it’s fine, I just - where is it?” “Up those stairs.” Emma flashed a grateful smile, and headed for the dark doorway. The shoes didn't like the steps - actively resisted them, in fact - but with a white-knuckled hand on the rail Emma managed. With a deep breath, she walked out into the cool night. Oh, thank God. Some alone time ...

... . The air smelled of roses. Emma looked at the extravagant flower arrangements, all gold and grapes and petals falling to the floor. I feel like I've wandered onto a movie set . Truth be told, she looked like a movie star. Emma had never been one to appreciate her looks, but to an impartial observer, watching from the stairs, her tall pale figure had a theatrical air. Especially when combined with the sweeping black dress, the dark brown hair - and the mask. Her shoes glittered in the candlelight. And as this observer walked forward, he saw her face as she turned. The mask framed her brilliant brown eyes. In fact, the sight of Emma was so arresting that our observer lost his footing, tripping over a stray rose. He stumbled, falling to his knees. “Oh God, I’m so-” “No, I’m -” Emma lifted her skirts instinctively as she stepped backward. Her shoes gleamed. She saw the man’s green eyes widen; she caught her breath. Oh God. Alex Kane. Alex Kane is kneeling at my feet. “No, really, it’s fine - wow. Those… those are amazing shoes.” Alex gulped. “Really amazing.” “Thank you.” What are you - what? Don’t twirl! Why are you twirling? “They’re a bit… much. You know, ballroom-or-bedroom type shoes.” Did you really just say that? She laughed awkwardly. And now it’s a thousand times worse. “Yeah.” Huh. His laugh’s as awkward as mine. “Um, I don’t think I know you? I mean, I’m sorry if we have met before and I've forgotten, or if we’re due to meet… my schedule’s been kind of crazy…” Jesus. ...