~*The Ella Drawer*~
Summary: "….at least you folded them."
Warnings: femslash, sexual content (masturbation), strong language, aphrodisiacs, modern-day AU, shameless fluff.
A/N: Yeah, I'm in a one-shot mood. I've had writer's block for all of this month. Which sucks, but I think I'm over it now. I'll just do some one-shots, and then ease back into the routine of my multi-chaptered stuff. So, enjoy!
I do not own Ella Enchanted. It belongs to Gail Carson Levine.
She always took them. It had become an impulse now to reach over the side of the bed, and reverently pick up the discarded garment with two fingers. And then she would admire them, because anything that she wore was just divine. They were always lacey, skimpy, and there was always the occasional thong. She always held them delicately, as if they were made of porcelain, and she admired them, trying to resist the urge to moan at the sight of the residue of her arousal….it was just so wonderful…
And she did feel a bit sick, keeping someone else's…undergarments without them knowing, but they were just too good to resist. The thin cotton, the slight dampness…everything. It was even better when she was alone, in bed, when Ella was unable to visit, she rummaged through her special Ella Drawer, and pick out her favorite pair: light green with white polka dots and dark green lace. She stared at them; lightly tracing her fingertips over them…she closed her eyes and sighed, suddenly feeling very warm, slightly dizzy, and unable to sit upright.
She fell back, panties in hand, and hastily untied her pajama pants, slipping them off, and then hesitating, as she always did, free hand on her hip, fingers tugging at her own panties. It was just so wrong.
But the smoldering heat and the dripping wetness between her thighs said otherwise.
Practically ripping her panties off, she pressed Ella's to her, gasping and hissing at the sensation of the thin cotton against her wet heat.
"Yes…" she moaned, thoughts…wonderful memories of Ella flooded into her mind, and she closed her eyes, arching her back, and opening her mouth with a wordless cry. She remembered Ella's smell…the heady smell of sex mingling with fine French perfume…and her taste, faint sweetness and a sharp tang that was just so fucking delicious and satisfying…and the way she felt; tight, and hot, and wet…and most importantly, the way it felt when Ella's walls tightened around her fingers, and the way Ella moaned her name, gasping and cursing and hissing and groaning…
"Oh! Ella!" She came violently; pressing Ella's panties to her, bucking her hips into her hand, writhing and hissing, shuddering and--"Ella…! Ah…" she released the panties from her grasp, panting and "ahh-ing," the after-effects of orgasm strong and fabulously lingering.
"I see you've been enjoying yourself." The perfect, angelic voice that Hattie never bothered to attempt to duplicate in her fantasies suddenly shattered the silence of afterglow, and Hattie jumped, balling the (wet) panties in her hand and attempting to stow them out of sight.
"Oh, Hattie-honey, don't bother. I saw."
Hattie felt herself blush; damn it, couldn't she keep her masturbation quirks a secret!
"Using my panties to get off?" Surprisingly, Ella's tone was amused, not condescending, but amused. She chuckled, dropping to her knees on the floor beside Hattie, and casually reached around her, opening the Ella Drawer.
The look on her face was priceless; it was torn between shock and victory. Victory won out, and a grin overtook Ella's features, and she looked back at Hattie; "Well, at least you folded them."