The Prince Kabir was bored already. He had a list of lovers who he would have to choose from when his father demanded for him to pick a bride, but they were just the women that gave him the most and best pleasure, it wasn't about love, He danced with almost every woman in the kingdom, but none of them stood out from the rest.

"Any luck yet?" the King asked.

The Prince Kabir glanced around the crowds of people. Even in this grand ball room there hardly a place unoccupied. "Not yet. But she's out there, I know she is, father!"

"You have until the stroke of midnight to make your claim," the King said, and walked away.

Just as the Prince Kabir was about to give up, all eyes turn to the entryway of the ballroom. The Prince Kabir looked up. There, standing at the foot of the steps was a breath taking young woman with black hair, stunning brown eyes, glowing white skin, wearing a light purple dress that hugged her voluptuous body until it fanned out around her thighs.

It was like love at first sight, when the Prince Kabir and this beautiful Prince Kabir locked eyes on each other.

The crowd made way for the young woman, many men trying to get to her, even walking away from their dates to get a closer look. She smiled courtly at them, but she only had eyes for one man. She moved to stand in front of the Prince Kabir. She grabbed her dress and curtsied low.

The Prince Kabir put his hand underneath her chin, making her rise up.

"It is I who should bow to you," the Prince Kabir said, bowing low over her delicate hand. He placed his lips against her hand and both tremble, anticipating more. He stood up and offered her his hand. Without a thought she took it, and he led her to the dance floor.

Spinning in circles, eyes for only one and other. No one else seemed to exist. Even the music ebbed away into the background. The young woman was a bit clumsy, but grateful, like she knew how to dance but hadn't in a long time. What kind of noble woman didn't practice dance for long periods of time?

"You look... ravishing," the Prince Kabir said as the fourth song concluded.

The woman smiled. "As do you, your highness."

He took her hand and led her to the palace gardens after having a servant fetch them refreshments. Guests, male and female alike, followed behind them and the Prince Kabir motioned for the doors to be shut behind them. He needed to be alone with this beauty.

The young woman glanced back at the closed doors. "You grow tired of your guests already, my Prince Kabir?"

He smiled. "No, but I cannot revel in your beauty with them around to bother us. Truly, you are the most beautiful woman I've seen..."

"Oh..." the woman's smile faded around the edges.

"What? Is it something I said?" he asked.

"No, my Prince Kabir, I just... I wish to be seen for more than just my beauty. I've lived in a place where beauty doesn't mean anything. It taught me that I'm so much more!" she smiled. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm the one you seek." She put her glass down and turned to walk away.

"No," the Prince Kabir dropped his glass, grabbing her by the arm. He stood before her, putting his hand on the side of her face. His heart raced as he spoke. "You are more than just a beautiful face! And you are definitely the one I've been searching for!"

He kissed her then, kissed her like he'd never kissed anyone before. It was deep. It was passionate. It was loving. He pulled her close, his hands on her waist. She grabbed his face, returning the kiss with equal gusto. He reached back, reaching to pull the dress off her. He broke the kiss.

"May I?" he asked.

"I think..." she whispered, just as mesmerized as him, "That I am already yours, my Prince Kabir."

He tugged her dress off, revealing the lacy underwear underneath. She kicked off her glass slippers before helping him take his clothes off until he was completely nude. He laid her down in a bed of flowers, kissing and teasing her lips before moving to her nipples. He unhooked the bra and threw it aside. As he took one nipple in his mouth he pinched and tugged the other, making her gasp and moan. She lifted her hips, pressed herself against his bare cock. Thick and ready, not too big, not too small, but the perfect size. She moaned.

He got in between her legs, put his hands underneath her legs. He bit the edge of her panties, tugging them down with his teeth. She cried out and bucked her hips at him. She was so eager, but it wasn't for sex. That longing in her eyes demanded fulfillment. It was a romance he never experienced before. He leaned over to place the softest kiss on her lower lips. She cried out at the touch. She was wet, she was ready. He couldn't hold back any longer.

He positioned himself. He put his hands down by her head. With a thrust of his hips his cock plunges into her, filling her up for the first time. She screamed out, reached up to grab his face in between her hands. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and smiled at him.

"Prince Kabir," she said.

He kissed her then, circling his hips while inside of her. What was this feeling? It was like no other feeling. He pulled out and thrust back in, jolting the woman's body. She threw her head back and cried out. Thrusting back and forth, exploring deeper and deeper within her, filling her up with him. Sex never felt quite like this before.

It was like a buildup. An all-consuming pressure that grew with each thrust. Pressure that grew every time she moaned and arched her back, her vagina begging for more. Pressure that created tingling throughout his entire body, from head to toe. He bit his lower lip and squeezed his eyes shut. What was this intense feeling that he couldn't shake?

Her hands found his face and his eyes snapped opened. She was smiling up at him, her cheeks flushed, tears in her eyes. She looked so beautiful.

"Let go," she said. "Let yourself be with me."

He cried out and it spilled forth, like spilling a glass of wine. It rushed out of him, conquering him as it strengthened him like never before. His seed filled her, and they cried out together before kissing each other. His gave one final thrust, burying himself within her as far as he could go. He wrapped his arms around her and turned over, hugging her. She returned the embrace.

"What is your name?" he whispered.

The sound of the clock chiming made the woman jolt. She pushed up, his cock leaving her. She picked up her dress and got dressed as quickly as she could. He looked at the clock, confused. A quarter till midnight? What was wrong with her?

"What is it?" he asked.

"I must leave!" she cried, putting on her shoes and rushing away. The Prince Kabir grabbed his pants and pulled them on before running after her. He followed her down a long staircase where she lost a shoe, but kept on going. He picked it up and saw as she jumped into a carriage that sped off into the night.

"What is your name?" said the Prince Kabir, looking down at the shoe. "You... the one I've been searching for."

As they reached the front of the house the spell started wearing off. The beautiful carriage turned an ugly orange, the horses and men grew mouse tails, and Pooja's dress became a ripped up mess. Still, she felt the Prince Kabir's warmth in between her legs, and it kept a smile on her face. Dandi was very proud of her.

"I knew you could do it," he said, before the spell was broken. Pooja stumbled into the front gates of her house, the pumpkin destroyed itself, and the mice stumbled around blindly, stunned by their sudden transformation. Pooja helped them inside and fixed them some tea and sugar cubes, which they drank and ate happily.

A while later the wicked stepmother and her daughters Diya and Tiaburst into the room, all with sour looks on their faces. Pooja had changed back into her rags and even put dust all over her face and body.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"That damn Prince Kabir fell in love with a beautiful young woman," the stepmother said. "And after she ran off he ended the ball, exclaiming that he'd find the girl and marry her."

Pooja flushed deeply. He was looking for her? But he had no way of finding her. And how would she, a lowly maiden, ever get the chance to reconnect with the Prince Kabir? She nodded, ignoring the moisture gathering in her eyes.

"So he will find a bride then," she whispered.

"The one that matches the glass slipper," said the stepmother with great abhorrence. "Why couldn't my daughters wear glass slippers? Anyway, get back to work, you stupid girl! And where is Dhruv? He never came to the ball. Or returned home."

Pooja faked a chill. "O, stepmother! He walked out of here laughing and I hoped to never see him again!"

"You deserved everything you got," said the stepmother with a wicked laugh. "Now go, you foolish girl, and do not force me to tell you again, or I'll take the paddle to your disobedient buttocks."

Pooja turned away to work, but it is she who got the last laugh, as she remembered the cheese her mice so eagerly devoured.

.- .-. -.

The Prince Kabir could not let her go, not without a fight. He dreamt of her, barely ate and drank; he could hardly breath without her. He searched the entire kingdom with just a glass slipper. He slipped it on many women's feet, but it didn't match any of them. He was growing desperate as his pursuit stretched out for a week. He was running out of houses. Out of women. Who was she?

On the tenth day he came to the final house. He couldn't let this slip from his fingers. He told himself over and over again that this is the one – she's in here, she has to be. His one true love – the only women he could love. He needed her.

"Knock on the door," the Prince Kabir ordered. She is here, he reminded himself sharply. She must be.

.- .-. -.

Pooja tried to enter the room as the Prince Kabir fits the shoe on the last stepsister. It doesn't fit, even when the girl tried to force it on. Pooja wants to scream, that's my slipper! But as she tried to enter the room her stepmother blocks her path, forcing her into the kitchen.

"You damn girl!" her stepmother growled. She reached for anything and grabbed Pooja by the hair. She used a wooden spoon to beat Pooja's buttocks. "When I tell you to keep your wicked, ugly face in the kitchen, you stay in the kitchen! How dare you defy me?"

"Stop," Pooja sobbed.

Her stepmother grabbed her roughly by the mouth as she continued the spanking. "Silence. You've tried my patience for the last time. Now I will beat you until you can no longer stand upright!"

She can hear the men asking if any other women live in the house. Her stepsisters tell them no. Pooja cannot let him leave. With a cry she turned and shoved her stepmother away, shocking both of them. But she doesn't wait. She rushed to the door, shoving them opened.

"Wait, my Prince Kabir!" she cried.

He looked at her. O, the sight of her – even covered in soot and ash he knows she's the one. The defeat in his face is replaced with triumph as he walked towards her. And the triumph is washed away when her stepsister tripped the Prince Kabir, making him drop the slipper. It shattered into a thousand pieces.

"O, what a shame," said the wicked stepmother as she emerges from the kitchen with her wooden spoon still in hand. She grabbed Pooja by the hair, making the girl scream. "This is not the girl you are looking for, my Prince Kabir. She is a lowly maiden, with a twisted heart and an ugly soul."

"Unhand her," the Prince Kabir said. "You are the only ugly one here." He reached into his pocket and produced a ring "The glass slipper is not all that was left behind."

Pooja shoved her stepmother away. She lifted her hand The Prince Kabir slides it up in her finger and as he stands up he lifted her with him.

"A perfect fit," he proclaims.

She cupped his face in her hands and smiled,

.- .-. -.

He took her into his carriage in her rags, with dirty on her cheeks. As they rode to the castle he couldn't hold back anymore, and she didn't make him. He pulled those panties off her body, lifted her dress and lowered his breeches. His laced his fingers in between hers while he took her, sure and fast, with one thrust. She was tight, squeezing his cock deliciously as he pumped in and out of her sleek body.

"My Prince Kabirss," he whispered.

She looked up and him and moaned. She wanted to hold him, caress his back, squeeze his buttocks, but she didn't mind holding his hands as he thrusts into her. Filled her up with himself, with love and longing. She gave herself to him just as much as he gave to her. She spread her legs wider. She wanted him in deeper, as deep as he could go. To make them truly one.

"Pooja" he said.

He loved the sparkle in her eyes when he said her name. Too long it's been since her true name has been spoken. With each sweet thrust he pushed Pooja further away, and gave life to the girl underneath. Pooja arched her back, pressed her breasts against his chest. He couldn't wait to get her naked in his castle. Couldn't wait to see that sleek body spread out on his bed, clutching his sheets as he fucked her for hours, giving her all the pleasure and love she could ever hope for.

"Marry me," he said.

She gasped as the orgasm took her. The first of many to come, she knew. Her eyes fluttered as she rode his cock, pumping her hips against him. He moaned loudly as she did this, his cock twitched and his fingers tightened. She wrapped her legs around him and ground her hips against him when he was inside as far as he could go.

"Yes," she screamed. She spread her hands, forcing him down to her lips. She smiled at him. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

He kissed her on the lips – true love's kiss; a kiss that could break any spell. And then he gave into her, released himself into her, spending his passion into her. They rode to the castle together to start their new life together. And they lived happily ever after.

«