The Magic Moment

Oh, dear! you think it will fit?" The young virgin's eyes were wide with nervous anticipation. She lay back into her chair, trying to relax as she looked up at the handsome, charming man who stood before her. His penetrating gaze and secret smile told her that he knew she would be his. The magic moment would be tonight.

"Yes," he breathed. "I think it will fit." His eyes twinkled at the prospect.

Her gaze was drawn to the thing he held before her eyes, lightly in one hand. Smooth, hard ... perfect. She swallowed. It was so ... intimidating.

She closed her eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath. She'd wished for this. This had been the subject of her dreams for as long as she could remember. But now, faced with the actual moment of truth, her heart fluttered and her throat tightened.

Every woman wanted him. They were all drawn by his power, his wealth, by the legend that described him. But she felt none of this. She was attracted by his beauty, his perfect form. His inescapable charm! That in itself was a power too great to resist. Even if she'd wanted to!

She had always felt degraded by the threadbare hand-me-downs she was forced to wear, and by the smudges on her angelic face -- not that any man ever got a close look.

Until that magic night!

She recalled the night they'd first set eyes on each other, at the party. She, in the dress she'd gone to so much trouble to get, the one she could never possibly afford. He, in his tight clothes, each curve and muscle accentuated.

She blushed as she thought of her one secret, perverse fetish. His magnificent balls! She loved them. (Everyone did. They were all the girls ever talked about.) Her unquenchable desire had led, inexorably, to this moment, here, in this barren room, on this moonless night. She would not back out now, not with so much at stake. This was her one chance; she would never get another. Her childhood ended tonight!

She opened her eyes and looked into his patient but expectant face. She knew he had already been with every other woman in the city. It didn't even matter. He was here, now.

She glanced again at the thing he held in his hand, and licked her lips nervously. She nodded to him, shyly acquiescent.

Her heart pounded as he knelt before her, but she did not resist as he gently grasped her naked ankle with his free hand and lifted it. She gasped and closed her eyes tightly, biting her lip.

The moment it touched her flesh she shuddered, then sighed in a wave of indescribable relief as it slowly slid home. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him, blissfully, lovingly.

The glass slipper fit perfectly.

Cinderella knew that their wedding ball would be the most magnificent ball of them all.

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