A Demented Fairytale: Part Nine

A Demented Fairytale: Part Nine
(Parts One through Eight can be found here.)

James leaned closer to Cinderella, she felt his warm breath on her cheek. "Is this your first time?"
"Second time," she replied. "The first was with a guy in our town named Jack."
James frowned in response. "Jack Horner? Isn't that guy like twelve?"
"Is this how you get all the women to sleep with you, accuse them of pedophilia? Because I gotta tell you it's not the greatest of plans."
"Who then?" he asked, kissing the inside of her wrist.
"Uh, Jack the son of the Candlestick Maker."
"Wait isn't he the one that chants 'Jack be nimble, Jack be quick' whenever he's excited about something?"
"Yeap, that's the one. And believe me, he chants it WHENEVER he's excited regardless of what or who he's doing at the time."
"Ah. I take it the experience didn't quite measure up?"
"Well if this sort of thing has a minimum elapsed time then for all intents and purposes this is my first time."
"Got it." James got up from the rug and poured himself another mug of mead. Contemplating her for a moment, he poured her another one as well. "Drink this," he ordered.
Laughing in confusion, she accepted the mug. "I don't need this, you've already closed the deal."
"It's not for me, it's for you. Let's just say that after a 5-year period of abstinence, I might be nimble and quick as well. The drunker you are, the longer the experience will seem." He looked so earnest while explaining she had to laugh again. Setting the mug down, she pulled his head down and kissed him. "I don't need this, it'll be fine." Together, they stood and walked towards the bedroom, wrapped in all the passionate fury of people who have long been wanting and long been denied. Or who are really, really drunk.

The door to the garderobe burst open as they approached and Rapunzel stumbled out. Tripping over the undergarments at her ankles, she hit the hard wood floor at their feet. James lifted her up, struggling under her weight. Cinderella bent to assist him by freeing her undergarments from her feet, and in that moment Rapunzel convulsed and heaved up the rest of the contents of her stomach. As she felt the sickly-sweet-smelling warmth seep through her hair and clothes, Cinderella cried out in revulsion and ran from the room. Dropping Rapunzel back onto the vomit-covered floor, James skidded into the bedroom after her. Cindy stripped off her blouse and bodice, grabbing the pitcher and dumping its meager contents over her back. She whirled to find James standing there, gaping at her half-naked form and screeched in fury. "Don't just stand there get me some water from the kitchen!!!"

He turned and ran from the room, returning in a few moments with a pitcher of water a mug of milk. "This is all there was... unless you want to use mead which might not be a good idea since that's what she threw up on..." She paused in her scrubbing to glare at him and his voice trailed off lamely. Clearing his throat, he strode over and took the wet rag from her. "Here let me do that, I can reach better." He began cleaning her back and hair, taking care to refrain from pointing out that Rapunzel had obviously eaten quail and carrots before they arrived. Once Cindy was clean and presentable though, he found it difficult not to laugh, especially as she sat in the corner wrapped in a towel and sulking.

"Go ahead and laugh, you know you want to." She groused. James burst into laughter and fell on the bed laughing. Cindy felt her lips twitch and reluctantly smiled. "I don't know why you think it's so funny," she said, "You were about to get laid for the first time in FIVE LONG YEARS."

That sobered him up pretty quickly. "What do you mean 'were'?" She looked at him in disgust. "You can't possibly think I'd still be in the mood to have sex after getting thrown up on."
"Well in some countries--"
"Stop right there."
"-- it's considered foreplay." James finished.
"Well then I'll be having sex with Rapunzel, since she's the one who foreplayed me."
"I'll foreplay you right now," James said, reaching for her.
Cinderella laughed. "Not tonight you won't, I'm going to sleep." And with that, she stretched out on the bed, closed her eyes, and fell fast asleep.

James debated whether or not to argue the matter (she had a pretty nice rack), then sighed. Apparently there was a bottle of palm oil in the living room with his name on it.

Returning to the other room, James glanced down at Rapunzel, sleeping so peacefully in a puddle of her own vomit. Would it be wrong to leave her there? She was after all, responsible for the most disgusting cockblock he'd ever seen. But at the same time, it was an inadvertent cockblock. Giving in to his gentlemanly instincts, he picked her up and deposited her on the rug, then covered her up completely with one of her painting tarps. He didn't care what they did in Germany, no way was he jerking off while looking at someone whose partially-digested lunch was on display. James glanced at the sleeping occupants of the room, then grabbed the oil and a copy of Playwench Prince Dimwit had left on the table. A bird in the hand wasn't really worth two in the bush but it was better than nothing.