-I do not own "Ella Enchanted." It belongs to Gail Carson Levine.

It was…wrong, wasn't it?

The way you touched her…it was inappropriate. Gauche. Terrible.

she'syourdaughter,forgod'sakes.

wrong.

But she never said "no," now, did she? Of course not. Even with the Prince coming, with her stepfather-your new husband-so close by…

She was just like you; beyond the point of caring. Beyond the point of considering denying herself the pleasure.

"Mother…" She gasped into your mouth, desperately seeking some sort of friction; her hips were thrusting desperately, and you could practically taste her arousal, the air was so thick with the heady aroma of sex.

"Always so desperate, darling."

Your hand slid up her dress, up her leg, up-up-up…the bare skin of her thigh made you moan when you fingertips brushed against the smooth skin. Her hips bucked again, and her hands tangled themselves in your hair.

"The Prince is coming, mother…please…hurry…"

With a slightly sardonic smirk, your hand found its way to her moist panties, and your fingers brushed against her through the fabric. She was so easy that you just knew you'd be able to get her off without even really touching her. Snickering, you pressed your palm flat against her, and instantly she responded to the touch. Bucking against your hand, panting into your mouth while you chewed on her bottom lip as she pulled at your hair and you brought her closercloserclosercloserclosercloser-

"Yes…! Oh…! Y..es…"

She practically pulled your hair out by the roots as she came against the thin fabric of her panties-it never took her long…

"Mm, mother…" she purred, licking your lips and pulling away, a sort of sadistic pleasure lighting up her eyes. You sometimes wondered if the disgrace your actions were causing was what got her off so fast…

"The Prince is here, darling…"

With a final kiss, you slid off her, watching with a perverted fascination as she fixed her dress and played with her hair, ready to smile at Prince Charmont for now, and find her way back into your bed later.