Fairy Tale Blogfest - Sexy innuendo!

OMG, I'm a real late entrant to this blogfest kindly hosted by Emily White  and to see more of the entries go here

Little Red Riding and Hoodie Wolf - A Wicked Fairy Tale!

If you don't like sexy innuendo in a story read no further!

‘Quit doing that,’ snapped Red Riding, removing a hand from her right breast.’

Button’s laughed, his tunic fully unbuttoned, trouser zip at half-mast. ‘What’s your problem?’

‘Like Cinders, I got standards above my station . . . so grandma tells me. And she says if I want a rich dude for a husband I gotta stay a virgin.’

Zipped up, rejection apparent, Buttons got to his feet. ‘Cinders is no virgin.’

Astonished, Red Riding looked up at him. ‘What? But she’s all grimy, who’d . . . Well, you know what I mean.’

Buttons grinned.

‘You! She did it with you?’

He held out his hand. Red Riding reached for it and he hauled her to her feet.

‘I can’t believe Cinders would do that, not with you, not when Prince Charming has decreed he’s going to marry the mystery girl who ran away from the ball. And we know it was Cinders, she told us all about the fairy godmother.

‘Yeh, but we did it, you know, before she went to the ball. She was all upset and I set to comforting her, like.’

‘Never!’

‘Yeh, well, let’s just say we were getting real down and dirty, and poof, all of a sudden ruddy fairy dust filled the room and next thing I knew I was on my arse in the corner of the room. And worse, this big fat fairy was where I’d been standing. She took one look at Cinders sat on the table skirt around her waist, tut-tutted and said “Naughty girl, I’ve got you booked for tonight. You’re to attend Prince Charming’s ball.” Old fairy godmother waved her wand a few times and that were that, Cinders were dressed to kill and a ruddy great stretch-limo materialised outside and off she tottered on glass stilettos.’

‘And we all know what happened, stupid wench.’ Red Riding brushed herself down making sure no telltale hay remained on her red cloak. ‘Right, I’m off now. Promised I’d drop in on grandma.’

The old witch hasn’t choked on a kid bone yet, then?’

‘Of course not, and still baking gingerbread men, and her stew pot is always full of juicy meat.’

Button’s strode to his motorbike, asked, ‘Wanna lift?’

‘Nah, I’ll walk, it’s not far.’

Button’s rode off and Red Riding picked up her basket of super-market goodies and started walking.

She’d gone a few yards when a middle-aged grey-haired guy in a hoodie and jog-pants came up from behind, and said, ‘Hey pretty little thing, you shouldn’t be out here all alone, want company?’

‘Ummm, no thanks,’ came her reply.

He jogged on.

She thought no more about him until she turned along a woodland track, and there he was sat on the ground and seeming a little out of sorts.

‘You OK?’ she tendered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

She hadn’t noticed before, but he sure had a hairy chest, and big bold eyes, eyes of a hunting man: mean face, and prominent nose with it.

‘Do you think you could give me a shoulder to lean on?’ he asked.

‘Sure,’ she replied, helping him to his feet.’

‘You’re new hereabouts, right?’ she asked.

‘Yeh, names Wolf, I bought the cottage in the woods.’

‘Grandma never told mom she’d sold up and moved out.’

He chuckled, and something about his chuckle caused her blood to chill.

‘So how long you been there?’

‘Couple of days,’ replied Wolf.

‘Oh, well, I’ll help you to the cottage, and perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I had a drink before I set off back home to tell my mom the news about grandma.’

‘No, I sure look forward to you’re coming inside my new home.’

They walked on, and soon came to the cottage. Only it wasn’t a cottage any longer. It was a huge mansion house.

‘What happened to the cottage?’

Wolf grinned, and as good as bundled her through a huge oak door. ‘Welcome to Wolf Hall.’

Red Riding looked all around. It was beautiful, not only palatial it smacked of money.

‘You’re a rich dude by all accounts!’

‘Yeah,’ he said, plying the basket from her fingers, and then sliding red cloak from her shoulders.

She glanced down at her skimpy dress. ‘A bit short, isn’t it?’

‘Good on the eyes, sweet cheeks.’

She smiled for she quite liked him, really, despite his wrinkly face and grey hair. He had a fabulous house, and well, what the hell if he fancied her, he had what Button’s could only dream of if ever he won the lottery.

She glanced up at a portrait on the wall. ‘Are pronounced noses a family trait?’

‘Yeah’, he replied, catching up her hand. ‘Sort of good for smelling out tasty morsels like you, and while you’re here, come and see the upper floor.’

She giggled, aware he had a wide mouth and big lolling tongue when he smiled, his eyes brighter than before and finger nails beautifully manicured.

‘No need to drool,’ she said, as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her lips.

He held her hand in a vicelike grip. ‘Ah, but you like the look of my tongue, right?’

‘I hadn’t noticed,’ she fibbed.

He led off. ‘I know what you want, and I’m more than happy to give it to you, but first, you gotta let me show you something that’ll blow your mind.’

She hoped so, oh how she hoped so: a diamond bracelet, perhaps.

She thought not when he threw her at the bed and leapt on top of her.

It was too late, too late, too late.

The room was piled high with stiletto-heeled shoes.

‘Prince Charming,’ she said, mere whisper, ‘in disguise?’

‘Nah, he’ll be along later. I’m Dandini. See we got this thing going. He holds a ball to get us a chick for the night, only Cinders gave him the slip, and I do fancy dress costume when things don’t go to plan.’

‘And me being Red Riding, you came as Mr Wolf.’

‘Yeah, that about sums it up.’

She giggled. So eat me all up Mr Wolf!

Don't get me wrong but I've always thought there was deeper meaning to this tale. The Wolf representing a mature male initiating a young teen to womanhood, hence red cloak, grey (wolf), salivating predator, and apparently the red cloak only came into being in the Brothers' Grimm fairytales, and two men writing fairytales about pretty little girls?  ;)
What deeper meaning can be drawn from other such fairy tales of young single girls?