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  My whole body shook. I was being fucked by Hazel outside and in, and all the while never having to separate my tongue from her hot, honeyed pussy.

  “I’m gonna come, Miranda, you have no idea, I’m gonna—”

  Oh, I had an idea all right. I was right there with her. Electricity throbbed through my body. Wind gusted over us, up to her breasts and face, kissing her everywhere I couldn’t kiss her with my mouth. The water responded, fucking deeply into me, laving my vulva and clit and anus. I came like a hurricane, wailing pleasure into the engorged flesh of her cunt, and she came, too, spurting hot and creamy over my hungry tongue.

  The wind started to die down. The curtain of rain that surrounded us slowed into a steady pitter-patter.

  “What was that?” Hazel whispered as her breathing started to slow.

  I pulled myself up to her, kissed her with her honey still on my tongue. She moaned a soft delight. “You just fucked me with water,” I whispered against her mouth. “So stop saying your magic isn’t powerful.”

  “Well, I was rather pleased with my performance, if I do say so myself.” She batted her eyes. “But that’s not what I meant.”

  “No?” I said. “What were you asking about, then? My finger up your ass?” I smiled coyly. “Was that a first for you?”

  “Yes, it was. And it was mind-blowing.” Her grin made her teeth shine white in the moonlight. “But that’s not what I was asking about either. I meant the wind. If you’re not an air witch, where did it come from?”

  “It was just—” I started to make the same comment I’d made the first time I met her, when I’d brushed off the breeze as an act of nature. But I suddenly realized I couldn’t use that logic tonight.

  We were inside an enchanted curtain of rain. Natural breezes couldn’t occur here. Natural wind doesn’t caress your girlfriend’s tits at your beck and call.

  And more than that, I had felt her skin where the wind had touched it. Felt her body just as surely as if it had been my fingers on her skin.

  The wind and I had been the same thing at that moment.

  I was an air witch.

  She pulled me close to her. “It’s okay that you didn’t know,” she murmured. “Sometimes this is how gifts are discovered, with us late-bloomers.”

  “Is that what happened to you?”

  She nodded. “I was masturbating in the bath tub. It wasn’t the first time I’d masturbated, and I’d had really good orgasms before—so that wasn’t what gave birth to the magic. I think what happened was, my body was ready to channel magic, but my mind didn’t know how to acknowledge it. Because by the time someone’s the age I was, or the age you are—no one expects to become a witch at that age.” Hazel sighed. “The magic couldn’t come to me until I turned off that preconception. Turned off my mind. And you know how it is when you’re touching yourself. My mind turned off. All I could hear was my body. And I followed its call. I let the magic move through me. And when I gave myself over to it, let the water move in the way that felt right... well, I knew. I was a water witch.”

  I was quiet for a long time, mulling over what she’d told me.

  “It’s weird,” I said. “I spent so much time wanting to be a fire witch like my grandmother, it never occurred to me I might have another kind of magic in my genes.”

  “Does it bother you, being something you didn’t expect?”

  I shook my head. “As long as I don’t have to stop studying chemistry, I think I’m okay with it.”

  Hazel laughed—a boisterous, joyful sound that made me feel like I was floating. The breeze picked up and caressed her thighs.

  “I don’t think you should give up on science. It’s always good to have more than one tool in your arsenal.”

  “Like using both my fingers and tongue to get you off?”

  “Exactly. Which reminds me.” She rolled me on my back and kissed down my torso and belly, then looked up as she pried my thighs apart. “It would be a shame if you thought the only tool in my arsenal was water. How about I show you what I can do with my tongue?”

  She licked me, and the wind blew.

  THE END

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  ABOUT JANELLE RESTON

  JANELLE RESTON LIVES IN a northern lake town with her partner and their black cats. Her short stories have appeared in more than a dozen anthologies, including Best Women's Erotica of the Year, Volume 2 and Best Lesbian Erotica of the Year, Volume 2. Her romance novella Tomboy is due out from Ninestar Press on March 19, 2018.

  When she's not writing, she enjoys gardening, birding, and binge-watching nature documentaries and sci-fi on Netflix.

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