Love Witch

Smooth sensual music pours from my speakers as the winding road feeds into breathtaking views. The sun just set and the twilight of dusk painted a dramatic scape amidst the mountains and ocean. With my hands on the wheel, I let out a yelp-moan that turned to laughter. Alone and unable to contain the utter excitement of being alive and the blessing to live in such a gorgeous place. The sea to sky highway. An encapsulation of the adventurous beauty British Columbia has to offer. A playground of temptation- a landscape of invitation. 

In the passenger seat sat a bag full of ritual tools. The spell candle I just made. Love letter. Roses. A brass cauldron. Incense. Gravel crunched beneath my tires as I pulled into what’s become a familiar spot. No other cars here, perfect. It’s not easy finding secluded spots around this city, which is why this place has quickly become one of my favourite beaches. Slinging the bag over my shoulder I began walking down the quiet road. The path aglow with orange-hued street lights. The scent of decaying lilac hanging heavy in the air.

Yes, there is loneliness in aloneness. Not in a dismal sort of way, rather, a way in which there is so much space.. an internal canvas which lays blank. It’s a curious occasion- the allowance of aloneness. The dive into abysmal individuality that you’ll find really just feeds into the reality of oneness. Not of I and me, but of us, all.

Forest wraps around me as I follow the path beside train tracks. Shrouded in a dark comfort, drawn forth by the sound of waves crashing. The canopy opens, revealing a high tide and a barely-there beach. An intimate allurement. A plea from the sea to come, closer. I wedge myself between the lapping waves and thick log of driftwood. I gently take out all of my ritual pieces and spread them on the before me. Lighting a flame beneath the spell candle, letting the wax drip into the cauldron so it firmly sticks in place. I arrange a circle of roses around the candle before settling the cauldron atop the pebbled beach.

I lift my dress, planting my bum on the smooth rocks, my legs open, on either side of the altar. I lean back onto the driftwood, searching the sky for the full moon. Empty save for a few stars, but I feel her. Rising. Behind the mountains. My breath deepens as I settle in. The rustling of leaves in the wind. The melodic tease of the sea kissing the shore. I light the candle and look out across the water. Bats skim the surface, twirling and twisting around one another. 

Instantly I find myself in a trance-like state. The liminal lull where the deepest magick usually happens. Everything in the moment feels vividly alive, as if the orchestration of life itself is going perfectly, seamlessly. And I suppose it always is. Though the egoic mind doesn’t always agree with that, does it?

Closing my eyes I drift into the intention of this ritual. I visualize the process of creating the spell candle, the prayers I put into the crafting. I feel the energy of love swell within my whole body, placing one hand on my heart and the other atop my womb. The sensation is electric as I send a thank you to the land and the ancestors of the space I’m in. Reaching beneath my knee where the love letter is creased, I unfold the paper doused in cinnamon and vanilla. I hold it in front of the flame, the backlit illumination a romantic display of an already swoon-worthy proclamation. I read the letter aloud, each word falling from my lips with a gentle power.

It’s a prayer. A love letter for all of humanity. An invocation.

I ask for the fulfillment of romantic desires for everyone on this earth. For the kind of toe-curling passion of your wildest dreams. For oceanic pleasure to become an intrinsic foundation of intimacy. Lust-filled eyes and soul-filled words. Let love pour forth in orgasmic immensity! O’ Divine, hear my prayers! Coat us in this glorious experience, may all rejoice in the ecstasy!

The waves pick up. The bats come closer. The potency of the prayer is cresting.

Bringing the letter to my heart, I pour all the love I feel in this moment into the paper, the words, the vision. I fold it back up, letting the flame lick the edges as it catches fire. The alchemy of activation. The audacity to make fantasy a reality. I lean back onto the driftwood once more, the waves of the spell pulsing through me. My hands glide from my knees along my inner thighs, coasting along my hips and stroking my arms. My white silk dress pools at my waist, exposing all of me to the night air. 

I explore softly, slowly, as I envision the collective experiencing the ecstatic bliss of romantic passion. My fingers trail along my collarbones and neck, massaging my ears and gripping my hair. Knees falling wider, opening, more. The ritual is working through me now, and I give in to the pleasurable places it wants to take me. My hands splay across my inner thighs, teasing the crease where leg meets hip. Already I feel the wetness gathering here, a beacon of, why would I resist?

My fingers find my centre, sliding along my outer folds, bringing myself to match the cresting energy of the spell. Effortlessly I dip two into myself, letting a soft sigh tumble from my lips. My pussy is open, relaxed, revelling in the seascape where I always seem to drip with uninhibited rapture. My left hand takes the lead in exploring while I bring the right up to my mouth, tasting my sweetly soaked fingers. Back arching into the driftwood, I look to the stars with fluttering eyes. Decadence upon thy tongue. Pleasure swelling with the rising tide. 

I let my body take what it wants from my touch. Pulling me in. Swirling around my clit. Finding the sweet spot on the left that always makes my legs shake with delight. My moans are breathy, barely audible above the waves lapping the shore. My fingers curl, pulsing against my g-spot, igniting a molten stirring within. Pleasure cascades through my entire body, I feel it rippling as it takes on a life of its own, expanding far beyond just my body. 

This is not a release. More like a birth of ecstasy.

I push my fingers deep inside of myself, holding them still as my walls throb around them. My breathing is deep and steady as I focus on sending the orgasmic energy in every direction. As Above So Below. A puddle of satisfaction. A blissed-out vessel for the Divine. An offering. 

Slowly, I make my way to my feet. Slipping the thin straps from my shoulders and letting my dress fall to the ground. The atmosphere kisses every inch of my skin. I indulge in the sensitivity of each subtle sensation, my lips parted and shoulders free of any tension. Walking into the sea, the water is calm, warm. Warmer than I’ve felt all season. It lulls me deeper, gently devouring me with its silky caress. I move my body as my spine becomes even more fluid amidst the soft waves. My heart is wide open. My nipples pert with each splash. 

I murmur a prayer of gratitude just for the ocean. Her water. Her blessings. What a gift it is to be held within her. Dark water ripples around me. The stars above sparkle more clearly as the night grows later. I bask in the beauty, in the primal nature of the sweet erotic. And then I slip into the water entirely, letting this orgasmic baptism commence the completion of my love spell for the collective.