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from side to side in an almost
hypnotic manner. When the witch stopped a foot away from her, Guinevere looked
up at Morgana’s amused face. She reddened.
    Morgana
caressed Guinevere’s face once again. “There’s no reason for us to be enemies.”
She said with her voice low, inciting. “We can be the best of friends, the two
of us.”
    Guinevere
hesitated. “Why should I be your friend?”
    Morgana
smiled. “Because I’ll give you want you want. I’ll make Arthur capable of
making love to you as you always desired; because if we are friends, I don’t
have to tell Arthur about your dalliances with Lancelot. And because you’ll
enjoy it.” The witch finished, leaning forward and kissing Guinevere on the
mouth.
    Her
lips barely touched the queen’s and then she leaned back.
    Guinevere
looked uncertain. She wanted Arthur – she had always wanted the other woman,
even as she was right now, but the blonde had never let her near.
    Morgana
was offering her deepest wish and Guinevere was tempted, but she was afraid it
was a trap, that the witch would use this to destroy her and assume her place
at Arthur’s side.
    Morgana
saw her indecision and gave her a push, knowing anything could change the
outcome of this conversation. “Kneel.” She whispered, her voice making the
queen’s knees weak.
    Guinevere
did as she said and knelt.
    She
was tired of being afraid, of always risking being discovered with Lancelot
when she didn’t truly love him. All she wanted was Arthur and Morgana was
offering her on a plate.
    She
would take a leap of faith and hope the witch wasn’t tricking her – she couldn’t
continue living like this.
    Guinevere
opened her eyes and faced Morgana’s cock.
    The
witch smiled, feeling her member hardening under Guinevere’s watchful eyes, and
with one hand she started caressing Guinevere’s hair, trying to soothe the
young queen at the same time she slowly guided her forward.
    Guinevere
didn’t resist and found herself face to face with the witch’s hard prick. It
was large and thick, bigger than Lancelot’s, yet strangely smooth, its skin
soft and delicate.
    The
kneeling woman tightened her hand around it and stroked, slowly, watching as
Morgana inhaled deeply at her touch. The witch was clearly enjoying the
attention and Guinevere found herself a little more confident.
    Guinevere
licked her lips in anticipation and leaned forward, watching as more blood was
pumped into the hard flesh, before she engulfed it with her mouth.
    She
loved the taste of cock – had since the first time she had kneeled in front of
Lancelot and taken him into her mouth – and she couldn’t help but hate herself for
it, especially when Morgana moaned and grasped unto her hair.
    She
was the queen of Camelot, she should be the one in a position of strength and
yet she found herself on her knees sucking the cock of the woman that was
threatening to take over her life. She didn’t want Morgana to enjoy this as
much as she obviously was, but most of all Guinevere didn’t want to enjoy this
as much as she was.
    She
could feel her thighs quivering, her pussy getting wet. When her tongue touched
the prick’s head she had to resist the urge to moan – the taste was too good.
    Morgana
noticed it and smirked in reply, while trying to control her breath, her
breasts heaving with every inhalation, sweat adorning her body. Guinevere’s
mouth felt too good, the queen’s lips wrapped tightly around her cock as she
bobbed her head back and forth.
    The
witch fisted her hands in Guinevere’s hair, controlling the other woman’s
motions, slowing down their rhythm. She wanted to prolong her pleasure for as
long as she could and she wanted to show the queen who was in charge.
    Guinevere
had to stop herself from gagging when Morgana started to thrust her hips,
sinking her cock into the depths of her mouth.
    The
witch was methodical, thrusting, never letting her prick linger for long in
Guinevere’s throat, careful not to stop