Spellbound Kiss: Part Two

Kenna cast the spell wrong. Instead of her boyfriend, Angela came to life like she'd been dreaming this moment for years. They kissed—hungry, wet, the kind of kiss that splits a person in two—and nothing has felt right since. Now Angela waits locked in the bedroom while Kenna searches for the fix. She finds it, says the words, and watches the glow leave her stepmother’s eyes. Kenna doesn’t realize the backfire until she feels the ache bloom low in her own belly: every pulse of Angela’s old craving now sitting warm and urgent inside her. She climbs the bed anyway, peels off her black t-shirt, and settles between Angela’s legs. The woman blinks up at her, half-dazed, one hand on the sheets like she’s trying to remember who she is. Kenna doesn’t give her the chance. She presses her mouth to the bare, smooth cunt she knows too well and licks in long, confident strokes, tongue flicking the stiff little clitoris before sucking it between her lips. Angela tries to speak, but the sound melts into a broken moan the moment Kenna swirls her tongue and presses two fingers inside. Slick, tight, already pulsing. Kenna curls them once and feels her stepmother shudder beneath her, hips lifting in helpless rhythm. Whatever words were forming in Angela’s mouth turn to soft, broken whimpers. The spell finishes its work; she comes with her thighs trembling around Kenna’s ears, and the girl doesn’t stop. She licks slower now, lazy and filthy, until Angela’s voice catches on a new kind of hunger—curious, surprised, opening under the proof of what she is.