Romancing the Bully

Gina hears Keisha mocking Alison and decks her—lights her out cold. Later, Keisha wakes with a pounding head, Gina perched on the edge of the bed like she owns it. "Why the hell do you bully everybody?" Gina asks, arms crossed. Keisha starts ranting about rank and farm bloodlines, new girls thinking they run the joint. Gina clocks the tension, the blush. "Or maybe you’re just horny for the girls and too chickenshit to touch one." She leans in and plants a slow kiss—Keisha melts, tongue sliding back hungry, hips already twitching. Gina peels off Keisha’s shirt, tits popping free, then shrugs out of her own tank. She cups the back of Keisha’s neck and feeds her a stiff nipple, moaning when Keisha sucks like she’s starved. Gina grinds down, palms cupped around Keisha’s wrist, riding the knuckles until her shorts are soaked. Keisha flips her, dives face-first between Gina’s thighs. First clumsy licks turn greedy—nose buried, tongue licking up everything it can reach. Gina returns the favor: she tugs Keisha’s panties aside and spreads that pretty pink with two fingers, tongue flat and warm against the dripping folds. Clothes still half-on, thighs locked together, the two girls scissor—clits mashed, juice stringing between them as hips buck faster. Keisha insists on going down again, eyes glassy, licking in tighter strokes, learning every switch. Then she sits up and slides her slick pussy along Gina’s again before dropping lower, tongue swirling around Gina’s asshole while Gina rubs fast circles on her own clit. They swap places and end pressed mouth-to-cunt, sixty-nining hard—whimpering, thighs shaking, tongues spelling filthy patterns until both girls clench and gush down each other’s chins.