Spellbound Kiss: Part One

Kenna’s pissed. Whatever she tries—sweetness, tongue, blowjobs—her boyfriend still keeps his heart buttoned shut. Alone in her bedroom she grabs the stupid teddy bear and tells it everything. He stares back like he always does. Kenna’s head is fogged, dreams hazy with heat and little prickles of anger, and suddenly the words fall out of her: spell him, fix him, make him worship her. She finishes the whispered incantation; whoever kisses her first will love her forever. She’s still giggling when her stepmother leans in to kiss her goodbye. Angela’s lips graze Kenna’s cheek; the magic flips on like a switch. Angela’s hand rises, trembling, then her mouth crashes back onto Kenna’s, hot and deep. There’s no time to argue. The bedroom door swings, clothes fall, and Angela’s tongue circles each tender nipple until they stiffen. Kenna is dazed, nipples slick from spit, hips rolling when Angela drops lower and spreads smooth, hairless lips with her thumbs. She sucks the pink bud gently, then harder, lapping the little swell until Kenna’s thighs clamp around her ears. Kenna can’t think straight; every flick, every suck, every wet noise that fills the room feels too good to stop. She comes hard—trembling, heels dug into the sheets, a raw moan tearing up her throat. Breathless, she pushes Angela onto her back, parts the older woman’s legs, and buries her tongue deep, tasting mother salt, licking every fold until Angela spasms against her mouth, surprised and grateful at the same time. Magic, it seems, has no manners.