More Kinky Fairy Tales

Little Red Riding Hood

She was little, barely five feet tall, but her nickname derived from her glorious mane of copper hair, not her costume. No, she wore the regulation fairy-tale uniform, a green dirndl with embroidered bodice. The full skirts complimented her broad hips and tiny waist. The finely woven white blouse offered a tantalizing glimpse of her firm, apple-shaped breasts. Not that she deliberately intended to arouse. Red Riding Hood was an innocent maid of eighteen, scarcely aware of the effect her ripe young body had on the lads of the village. A good and dutiful girl, each Sunday afternoon she'd make her way through the woods to bring some cheer and company to her aged grandmother.

He was a lone werewolf, expelled from his pack for his perverted desires. Hunger drove him to the crone's cottage, though the skinny old woman hardly made for a satisfying meal. He morphed into his human guise and washed the last traces of blood from his handsome face, disgusted by his beast-ways. With a sigh, he opened the trunk where the granny had stored her clothing.

As she did every Sunday, Red knocked on the wooden door before entering the cottage. "Granny, it's me," she called. Normally her grandmother would already have the teapot on the table, ready to share whatever goodies her granddaughter had brought in her wicker basket. Today, the kitchen was empty, though a merry fire burned on the hearth. "Granny?" Red cried again, a quaver in her voice. Doubt shadowed her normally sunny disposition.

"In here, child," a deep voice answered. "I'm resting."

"Grandmother!" Red rushed into the bedroom. A figure huddled on the wood-framed bed, buried under a mound of quilts. "Are you ill?"

"Just a bit under the weather, my dear. Come, sit beside me. You're looking very lovely today." A ghand emerged from under the coverlets, captured her wrist and began to stroke her palm. The old woman's flesh was hot as a furnace.

"You feel feverish, Gran. And your voice sounds so harsh..."

"Yes, well, perhaps I've caught some sort of bug. Come closer, darling. Let me feast my eyes on you."

Grandmother wore a lace-trimmed cap pulled low over her brow. Not a trace of her gray curls were visible. Her dressing gown, a lovely thing of peach-colored satin embroidered with birds and flowers, was buttoned to her chin, the ribbons tied in an elaborate bow. Her cheeks were ruddy and smooth under her wire-framed spectacles. Although she claimed to be ill, she looked better than Red had seen her in years.

"My, grandmother, how bright your eyes are!"

"All the better to see you with, my dear."

The other hand shot out from under the covers, caught her around the waist, and dragged her half onto the bed.

"Grandma! What are you doing? What big, strong hands you have!"

"All the better to touch you, my sweet. Do you like my nightgown, by the way?" The elderly woman threw off the quilts, showing off the gown, which covered her down to the ankles.

"It's lovely - isn't it one from your trousseau?"

"Yes, I believe that it is. I thought, it's crazy to let it rot in my trunk." The figure on the bed tried to pull Red down next to him. "Why not take a bit of a rest with me, darling? Keep me warm..." For the first time, the maiden resisted.

"Yes but - Granny, what big feet you have!"

"All the better to - um - stomp on the grapes during the harvest. Come, Red Riding Hood, don't be selfish. Give a bit of comfort to your old granny..."

"But - OH Granny! What a big....what is it? What is it it for?"

"Lie down with me, little darling and I'll show you."

***

Red pushed her Titian tangles away from her face. She gazed down at the splendid young man she held clasped between her thighs. Her grass-hued skirts were bundled around her waist. Her bodice hung open, exposing her cream-colored breasts and strawberry nipples. He arched his back, driving that mysterious appendage of his deliciously deep into her secret places. She tightened around him and he let out a satisfied groan.

"Ah, Red...You've made me hard again."

"Oh... How lovely! I never imagined..." She surveyed his muscular form, still attired in her grandmother's wedding finery. Something nagged at her, even through her lascivious haze. "Henry...what happened to Granny?"

Her lover answered with faster and more potent thrusts. Pleasure forced the niggling worry from her mind. "Oh, Henry, that's divine! Oh! Oh, I think... yes ... yes, like that ... Oh YES!" Paroxysms of delight shook her. Finally she collapsed on his broad, satin-clad chest. "Oh Henry, darling! I love you so much. I'd do anything for you."

The rugged, jet-haired man gave her a wolfish grin. "Really, Red?"

"Oh yes," she exclaimed. "What would you like? Do you want me to lick you? Do you want to do it doggy style?"

"Well...actually..." Embarrassment made her prince look younger. "I was wondering if I could try on your dirndl."