Screw Lesbianism! Screw Kennedy

With a single act of defiance to everything she had built in the past three years, Willow leaned in and kissed a bewildered Andrew. Their tongues trashed around like wild animals for a few moments, their lips mashing in perfect form. She paused silently, and pulled back, the taste of each other remaining in full **** on their lips.

“Was it good for you too?” Andrew managed to say.

“That was…” Willow breathed. Andrew was unsure if she would scream ‘horrible’ and slash his throat, or if she would say ‘glorious’ and kiss him again.

In fact, it was good for her too. The kiss had been so hot that Andrew almost came, but it was so hot for Willow she actually did come! It was her first orgasm ever brought upon by another person!

Some could argue Andrew didn’t kiss with much finesse, but he certainly kissed with hunger: Something Willow craved.

“That was… Better than… Anything,” she said. “Better than Tara, better than Kennedy. Better than magic! Better than women!”

“So…” said Andrew, angling for another kiss. “You think you might be bisexual?”

“Fuck no!” she said. She jumped in and sealed their lips together. After breaking away, she whispered: “I’m cock-exclusive.”

She tackled him on the table, now a whore for cock completely. She was enslaved by it, like she had been by women and magic before. With one twist of her hand she unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled off his pants. It was astounding for him to lay there and look up at this sexually possessed woman, all doing this because of him.

The tragic part is that if they were alive, Jonathan and Warren would never, ever, ever believe he converted a lesbian!

But the tragedy wasn’t important now, as Willow stared with lust for his eight-inches. She lowered in her head just slightly, first tasting with her tongue. She got a first drip of pre-cum on the tip of it, and fell back into her mouth. She smiled. “Better than chocolate,” she said before licking around the head of the cock.

Still, she didn’t suck yet—she was waiting and exploring. Her tongue delicately danced, tasting each drop, each inch, before she curled her cherry red lips and went head on down his cock. Andrew had to fight every cell in his body not to cum right then and there.

She wasn’t doing this casually either—she was deep throating, getting it far into her mouth as possible. She was going wild, allowing her body to twist and turn along with her mouth.

She lifted her head up: “Cum,” she said.

“What?” Andrew asked, as he seemed to usually do in confusion.

“I want to taste you full on shooting a load. Cum!”

As she put her lips back on his cock, Andrew gave up and shot a stream of white cum into her. She jolted with pleasure, sucking back every drop she could. Andrew was amazed to watch the red-head furiously lick up anything and everything she could.

When she finally managed to lift her head, she breathed: “Fuck me.”

She stepped back from the kitchen table and got to the living room, and with a deep smile, she insisted again: “Fuck me!” she was already stripping.

“Shouldn’t we… Your room… Foreplay… Anything?”

“I want to fuck now. Going to my room would take too long. And I don’t want foreplay. I’ll take a cock in my pussy any day; a tongue will never do again.” As she spoke, her shirt came off and her skirt was too. She fell back on the couch, stretching out as her breasts came into perfect form. She arched up one leg and grinned: “Well, Mr. Wells?”