The Witch (Female POV, Lesbian)

I selected the prompt "Threesome," for day three

She'd never done anything like this before. It was a thrill she'd never experienced, though she couldn't say whether that thrill came from climbing over the cemetery's iron fence or the way Mary held her once she'd done it. The girl beamed, her plump black lips stretching out across her pale face. 'I'm so proud of you,' she said and, before she knew it, Mary's lips were on hers. It was everything she'd ever wanted. It was strange beyond belief that it was happening in a graveyard but she was too caught up in her emotions to care.

Claire had been crushing on Mary for what seemed like her whole life but her best friend had never shown even the slightest romantic interest in her. Sure, she'd played up being a promiscuous bisexual for the boys but she'd really only ever seemingly had eyes for the revolving cast of loser musicians and weirdo poets who played the role of boyfriend. Claire, however, had never so much as dated. As hopeless as it had always seemed, she'd kept herself available for the day Mary might come to her senses and sweep her off her feet. Was it too much to assume that day had come?

She wanted to keep the kiss going but, almost as soon as the goth girl's lips had been pressed against hers, they'd been pulled away. Mary grabbed her hand and they went running, past countless tombstones, towards the white marble mausoleum at the back. It was a miracle Mary hadn't tripped on her large black and red dress. Claire was dressed more sensibly, in sneakers and jeans, with a baggy faded red tee and a grey hoodie. Claire had never been invited to Halloween parties and didn't like trick-or-treat, so she couldn't even recall the last time she'd dressed up for the occasion. Ironically, though Mary was apparently supposed to be a vampire, the goth's costume wasn't much different to the kind of thing she'd otherwise wear on a regular night out.

Claire was the one who tripped, in the end, when Mary stopped dead in her tracks. The momentum carried her forward and she crashed into her best friend - girlfriend? - and both only narrowly avoided damaging one of the headstones. After a grunt of pain, Mary whispered, 'someone's here.' Fear struck Claire then, as if only now remembering why she typically didn't do stupid things like breaking into cemeteries at night. She felt the chillness of the air, too, as if for the first time.

'Who?'

Mary dared to get onto her hands and knees, to peek out. 'Teresa,' she finally said, with a laugh, and she got to her feet. Claire joined her after a beat.

'Teresa?' It was the name of a girl they'd gone to high school with. Thin and unhealthy looking, with greasy brown hair and an odd smell, the girl had been tormented by bullies as often as Claire. She'd even tried reaching out to her, once or twice, but the girl had never shown any interest in being anyone's friend. It was rumoured that her mother was abusive and that her father was absent, often that he was in prison but sometimes that he was dead. Someone had once stolen her notebook and claimed that it contained psychotic ramblings, detailing the gruesome fates awaiting her tormentors. Claire had half-believed it and, if she'd been asked which of her classmates would be mostly likely found in a cemetery in the middle of the night, it would've been her. Then again, she chided herself, she and Mary were now guilty of the same thing.

Daring to take a look herself, she almost wondered how Mary could tell. It was Teresa, going by her face, and her hair listened in the moonlight, though it otherwise looked much more well-kept, but her attire was completely different. She was wearing a black dress, similar to Mary's, and one that showed more flesh than she'd ever known Teresa to dare. 'I knew you'd come,' she called out to them, breaking the silence, 'I dreamed of it.'

Mary laughed nervously, 'really?'

'You've crossed the threshold, haven't you? You kissed.'

'Have you been spying on us?' Mary asked, without heat. 'Like what you saw?' Claire cringed a little. Most students had believed Teresa was something kind of dyke, and said as much, but she'd never wanted to assume.

'It was important,' the strange girl replied, before walking closer to the mausoleum. 'Do you know who's buried here? Do you know why you felt compelled to visit?'

'Some weird old guy,' Mary said, having apparently had some notion of where she'd been taking Claire. At the time, she'd assumed it was some random flight of fancy.

'A witch,' Teresa said, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to say, 'an ancestor of mine. I'm here to claim my rights as his heir, to feast on all the demons he hoarded.' The girl turned from the marble to look at each of them in turn. 'I need your help. The ritual requires three participants to bind themselves together as one, to form a coven.'

'Cool,' Mary said, 'I'm down. What do you say, Claire? Wanna' join us in a demonic ritual?'

Claire just laughed but once it became clear that Mary actually did expect her to answer, she piped up, 'I don't know, that sounds pretty creepy.' She hastily added, 'no offence,' though Teresa barely even seemed to be paying attention. In fact, she appeared to be undressing.

'Come on,' Mary pleaded, 'I promise it'll be fun.' When she realised that hadn't convinced her, she changed tack, 'alright, how about this, being my girlfriend means indulging me from time to time.'

'Girlfriend?' Claire dared not hope, even now.

'Yeah,' Mary said, and she felt butterflies fluttered inside her stomach, 'but only if you do this with me.'That settled, 'alright. I'll do it.' Mary kissed her eagerly once she'd said it and she immediately knew she'd made the right choice. She savoured the taste of her lips with every hungry flex of her jaw until the screeching sound of an old metal gate interrupted them. Teresa had made her way inside, the moonlight briefly illuminating her bare arse. Her clothes had been discarded by the entrance and Mary immediately began shedding her own layers.

Claire simply stood in shocked silence, looking over her girlfriend's body. She'd always looked away, in the past, whenever they'd been together in the locker room or been getting ready for bed at a sleepover. Now, she saw the fullness of her breasts and her lovely pert pink nipples. The ginger tuft at her crotch, betraying the true colour of her dyed black hair. 'Like what you see?' Mary teased.

'Yeah,' Claire replied, almost breathless.

'It's only fair for me to see you then, isn't it?'

'I don't know,' she replied, reflexively, as a wave of trepidation hit her. She'd always been insecure about her body, especially when it came to Mary. Her girlfriend made the decision for her, however, and began to undress her. She didn't resist and, soon enough, she was stark naked, covering her breasts from the cold air, as well as from Mary's gaze.

'You're so pretty,' the girl said, before walking into the mausoleum, 'coming?'

Claire did so reluctantly, disliking the feel of stone beneath her bare feet as she marched into the darkness. Intense candlelight from a room deep into the chamber, spilled out into a hall at the bottom of a long narrow staircase. She wondered if the darkness were actually a blessing. Claire imagined that if her girlfriend's shapely bottom had been illuminated, she'd have been too distracted to mind her footing.

In the candlelight, in a strange room whose walls were etched with writing in a language Claire didn't know, she saw Mary's curvaceous body and it drove her wild. Teresa caught it immediately, 'the demonic energies are charging your emotions. You want to fuck her? Go ahead.' She looked at the girl in shock, then saw her rubbing herself. 'Go,' she commanded, and Claire felt her **** melt away. Mary turned to her, with delirious lust behind her sparkling green eyes, and they lunged at one another. As they kissed and tongued each other, their hands explored. Claire gripped Mary's cheeks, squeezing her soft plump arse. Mary was much bolder, slipping one hand down Claire's crotch and sticking the finger of her other hand deep inside her butt.

Claire's eyes widened in shock and she squealed but Mary silenced her with a kiss. Before long, she felt another pair of lips tracing kisses down her back. In unison, Teresa and Mary began to descend. Teresa's kisses went down across lower back as Mary's kisses trailed over her breasts, then down her navel. Together, the girls began to tongue her. 'Oh my God,' Claire screamed, gripping Mary's shoulders to steady herself. 'Holy fuck,' she cried, as the girls ate her out relentlessly. They moaned alongside her, rubbing themselves as they devoured her. She was driven to exhaustion and came at least half a dozen times before they removed their mouths.

As she slumped down onto the hard stone floor she felt something enter her, some kind of energy or spirit pushed its way up her cunt, through her core and into her heart and soul, and she came again, harder than ever, spraying her juices across the floor. The other girls, now locked in a tongue battle of their own, giggled when they felt the fluid hit their legs. She watched in awe as they fingered each other and she knew, when they came, screaming and squealing, that they'd experienced whatever she had, spirits entering their bodies. Once Mary had collapsed in exhaustion, Claire crawled over to her, **** not to let the opportunity pass her by.

Claire kissed her way up her girlfriend's leg and, just before she reached her cunt, an orgasm rolled through Mary's body. She eagerly lapped at her cunt, as it spasmed and squirted all over her. Mary grabbed her hair tight and pulled her closer. The taste of her was intoxicating and she buried her tongue between her folds. Encouragement, as unnecessary as it was, then came, when Teresa began to grind against her, sliding her wet cunt against the back of Claire's thigh. The sex tired them out but the spectres kept them awake and, by morning, they'd each absorbed the power of a hundred demons or more.

They eventually emerged, a coven of witches ready to rule a town that barely knew any of them even existed.