Sara, 21, Gothic Witch

As you scroll down the list, you admittedly start to feel a little flushed at the selection of beautiful women. Many wore typical witches' attire with pointy hats, form-fitting black dresses, and dark heels. You even came across a few green ones. They were all in provocative poses, grinding against broomsticks, trailing their long dark nails over their long legs, and flicking their tongues between V-shaped fingers.

You bit your lower lip and clawed at the hem of your pant leg. You never felt this turned on before just by looking at photos of sexy women.

Wait, yes, you were. You paused and blushed as a rather heated memory came to the surface. You were in your last year of high school. You had just entered the girl's locker room after a long day at soccer practice when you heard someone making out in the showers.

A coy smile spread across your lips as you took out your phone and hid behind the shower entrance. You were sure some of your friends would enjoy watching a couple of their classmates getting dirty in the ladies' locker rooms and maybe a few teachers if one of your rivals was inside.

You turned on your phone, hooked it around the edge of the wall, and started recording. You almost dropped it once you saw two cheerleaders kissing and grinning against each other under the shower head, their nude bodies glistening as hot steamy water coated their lovely forms. One was a black girl who had always given you grief throughout grade school. The other was a freckled redhead and cheer captain.

You could still remember how flushed you felt when you saw the two women cradling each other, grasping the backs of their lovers' heads through their hair as they planted slow, heavy kisses on each other's lips. You could still remember how perfectly their skin contrasted as they swished their firm breasts together. The sight of speckled white and chocolate brown rubbed against each other, clawing and caressing each other.

You could only record a little over five minutes before the heat became too much for you, and you ran back to your house. You had to chew on a washcloth as you showered at home to keep your parents from hearing your moans. You had never fingered yourself so hard or experienced such a brutal climax.

By the end of the day, you were hiding under your covers, your fingers knuckle deep inside your body, as you watched the video of the two cheerleaders on a loop. You lost count of how many times you came as you fantasized yourself between the two beauties, the cheerleaders long and slender fingers teasing every crevasse of your body, their lips grazing your lips, shoulders, and neck.

When you awoke the following day, your nude body tingling from your shoulders to your thighs, the realization of what you had done started to sink in. You deleted the video of the cheerleaders in the shower, volunteered to do the laundry that afternoon so your parents, or worse, your brother, didn't smell the scent of sex on your sheets, and blocked the memory from your mind as best you could.

You shook yourself out of your heated flashback and returned to your screen. You were considering trying to close the window, hoping that it might work this time now that it had created your account, but then you saw the eyes.

The eyes belonged to a goth girl who looked less like a generic witch than any other woman on the sight. She looked more like a vampire than a witch. She had ashen white skin that made her look almost albino, short raven hair with blood-red highlights, black lips, nails, eyeshadow, and piercing red eyes that seemed to glow. She wore a small black top with thin straps, black leather shorts, knee-high boots, and fishnets. She was lying on her side with her arms over her head to give the viewer a perfect view of her D-cup breasts and belly button. But again, what caught your attention the most were her crimson eyes. You didn't know why, but it felt like she was looking directly at you through the gaps in her long lashes.

You gulp and, with trembling fingers, click on her image.

"Hello?"

You jumped as a soft voice came from your computer.

"Uh…h-hello?" you replied with some confusion, "Who is this?"

"Sorry, I guess I responded a little too soon," said the voice, "It's just the moment I got a notification that someone was looking at my profile. I decided to jump in and look at who was nibbling. My name is Sara, by the way."

"Julie," you reply, still feeling a little flustered at the sound of the soft British accent, "But everyone calls me Dusty."

"Julie is such a lovely name," she replied, "It reminds me of Juliet. Is it alright if I call you that instead?"

"Sure, as long as you don't poison me," you said with a smirk.

You heard a cute giggle from Sara. "You're funny, Julie. Is it alright if I see you?"

"Uh, sure. Let me set up my cam-"

"No need."

Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you notice the surface of your wall mirror shifting and rippling as if it was made of water. When you saw Sara smiling back at you, her skin wasn't as pale as it was in the photo, looking a little more rosy than white. She wore a short black strapless dress with a knee-length skirt, a black leather jacket, heels, and dark stockings with small holes dotted around her thighs. She wore dark red lipstick along with her dark eyeshadow. Then there were her piercing red eyes that seemed to look into your soul.

Sara darted her eyes up and down your body as you stood and gave a soft purr.

"You are quite lovely, Julie."

You blushed and looked down at your weathered T-shirt and blue jeans.

"Thanks," you chuckled, "Though I'm not as lovely as you thought."

"Nonsense, I think you look gorgeous," Sara said with a slight giggle.

You blush and smile back at her before taking a few steps toward the mirror. "So you're a witch?" you ask, "Like a real witch."

"That's right," she nodded, "Don't listen to the whole devil-worshiping bit. Only the foolish make deals with demons."

"Demons are real?!" you gasped.

It was Sara's turn to blush, "Right, let's take this one step at a time. Yes, witches and wizards are real, and much like real people, the fact that we are witches doesn't make us wicked. It depends on the witch."

"So you're a good witch, not a bitch witch?" you say coyly.

"Oh god, you're terrible," Sara said with a smile, "No, I'm not a bitch. In fact, I'm quite friendly."

Sara lidded her eyes and looked up at you through her soft lashes while placing a hand on her perked hips. The way she looked at you made your heart flutter into your neck. For the first time since the conversation started, you found yourself lost for words as you looked timidity into those lovely red eyes.

Sara, noticing your silence, spoke up.

"So, how long have you been into women?"

"Uh…recently," you shifted your feet

"How, recently?"

You look away timidly, unable to answer, but judging by the blush on her cheeks, you knew Sara was putting the pieces together. After a long pause, Sara smiled and took a few steps toward the mirror.

"Would you like to meet?" she asked sweetly.

"Oh, yes," you replied with a bit more excitement than you expected, "When and where?"

Sara smiled and, much to your surprise, reached her hand through the mirror and out into your room. You hesitated momentarily, wondering if you should try to change first or ask Sara how safe the mirror portrait was. After concluding that she knew what she was doing, you took a deep breath and reached for her, hoping you wouldn't wake up the moment you touched her slender fingers.