She had a good vantage point; her bedroom was the highest room in the house. Most people would call it an attic and wouldn’t like to spend their tim... in such a dim room, but Lucy wasn’t most people. Unlike most people, Lucy was a witch. Not a horrible, old, wrinkly witch; but a young witch with unblemished skin and long, dark hair braided loosely to one side. Around her was nineteen years’ worth of possessions that she had collected: stacks of rolled parchments with ink blotted pages, boxes of. It was gorgeous outside and I took in a deep breath of the still, fresh air. Snatching up my box of garden tools, I headed out off of the deck and to the fence in the back where I began to set up my work area. My camisole was tight as were my shorts and as I sat on the cool grass I could feel it tickling my inner thighs and creeping into the openings around my crotch. It felt good, cool and tantalizing enough that when I looked down at my breasts I had noticed my nipples were as hard as they. More

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