Page 2 of Their Witch Bride

Nothing.

I clench my fists, then take a deep breath. I can’t get frustrated. I have to be serene and peaceful. I’m like the water. Cool. Still. Flowing.

“When you get into water, you get WET!” I say, emphasizing the last word.

Still nothing. Sigh.

With another deep breath, I focus on drawing my power to the surface. I feel it. It’s a warmth inside of me that’s soothing and powerful all at once. My magic. I love it and hate it all at once because feeling it means that it’s definitely there. So why do I have so much trouble accessing it?

Come on, I can do this. “Dripping wet! Soaking wet! Lake! Water!” Then, I stare at the unmoving water below me.

Nothing.

I’m cool. I’m calm. I have depth. Fish swim in me. Plants grow in me. “Moist! Super moist! Uh, dripping moist.”

Ugh. I shudder. That’s the worst word ever. Who even invented that word?

“Moist, moist, moist!” Wisp floats around my ear screeching the word over and over again in her tinny little voice.

I swat at her and try to quiet her down. She flies right up to my face, so I can see the smile plastered on her tiny, plump face, which, of course, melts my witchy heart. Even if she is trying to get under my skin.

We both freeze when some unseen change sweeps over our quiet area. I’m about to ask Wisp what it could be when a man and woman appear on the shore of the lake, right underneath us. I shush the will-o’-wisp as I lean forward, trying to figure out who they are and what they’re doing here. It’s summer, which means prime swimming weather, but it’s a little early in the morning for swimmers.

Then, I recognize the girl. Edna. A fellow witch. Of course she’d show up here when I’m failing miserably with my magic to remind me of everything I’m supposed to be. I don’t begrudge her it. I’m glad she’s good at magic, tall, blonde, skinny, and beautiful. It’s just that… sometimes I see myself in the mirror. Painfully short. Black hair. Brown eyes. And I think, if I could be just a little like Edna. Just a little prettier. Just a little better at socializing. Just a little better at magic. Then I think I’d be a lot happier, and that my mother would like me a little bit.

But that’s not going to happen. Edna, and the rest of the witches, will continue to make my life hell, and I’ll continue to act like I’m oblivious to it all. They can’t have power over me unless I let them.

Edna pushes the guy roughly toward the lake, and he pulls off his shirt. I frown, wondering why they’re in such a rush for a swim, and shake my head. Them swimming isn’t my problem. It’s probably time I told them I was here, even if that means I’ll instantly ruin their swim. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s ruining a good time.

But before I can speak, Edna takes off her whole dress, followed by her bra and underwear. My jaw drops, and then he’s taking his pants off. I almost look away, almost, when his dick springs out. Now, I’m staring. Openly staring. I’ve never seen a man’s dick before. It’s erect, but only a few inches long, with hairy skin sacks hanging beneath it like wet bags of porridge.

Gross. Shit. Is that really what a dick is supposed to look like?

“Are they all like that? It seems… small,” I whisper, trying to hide my horror.

“Seems small,” the will-o’-wisp tells me knowingly, matching my volume.

“And hairy.”

“Hairy,” Wisp says in a disturbed tone.

Okay, so they’re not all that tiny and hairy. That’s a relief.

Which is when I remember that I should have spoken up before they got naked. If I speak up now, I’ll embarrass them, and Edna will have even more of a reason to hate me. So, what to do? What to do? I guess I can just wait until they’re… done, right? This shouldn’t take long. I imagine sex is what, ten seconds? Enough time for him to finish? Isn’t that how it usually goes with animals? I’m not sure. I’ve never stared while they went at it.

These are more good questions for the blacksmith.

Not having anything else to do, I decide that I may as well watch. Part of me wants to look away, to avert my virgin eyes, but another part finds this whole act fascinating. How do they even know what to do? Is there an instructional guide somewhere that I haven’t read yet?

I gawk as Edna and the mystery man feel each other up. “She has big tits.”

“Big tits,” the will-o’-wisp says, as if agreeing with my words.

“And he seems to like them a lot.”

“Likes tits,” the will-o’-wisp comments.

“Do most guys?” I ask, looking down at the handful I’ve been blessed with.

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