It was Friday night, yet again, and I was scrolling through my phone. I was only half-interestedly browsing a news article when I realized my attention was requested.

“Huh?” I distantly asked my wife, Carolyn, as I put my phone down.

“It’s always the same!” she complained, “Your face stuck to that phone, never paying attention!”

She sighed deeply.

“I’m going to Felicia’s house on Sunday to help her with the wedding invitations. It may be a long day, so you’ll have to plan dinner for yourself and Sarah.”

Felicia was Carolyn’s younger sister, and she and her long-lasting fiancé had finally decided to join the rest of us in the boredom of marriage. As it happens, she was also the one I fantasized about when streaming porn in the late hours of the night.

“Oh, OK,” I muttered.

Silence fell over us again.

We hadn’t always been like this, but since our hurried wedding almost seventeen years ago, we’d fallen into the trap of taking each other for granted. We still cared a lot for each other and always kept to the routine. We made sure we lived perfect, impeccable lives. To the entire neighborhood, we were the perfect couple, throwing the best barbeques and arranging the best Halloween parties, and our home was everyone’s favored place to welcome every new year. Between us, we had raised the, in our eyes, perfect daughter, Sarah, who also happened to be the reason for our hurried wedding 17 years ago. I’m not entirely convinced that our neighbors saw her as ‘perfect’ now that she’d reached her rebellious teenage years, but as far as we knew, she was always curious and friendly to people. What more do you ask of a sixteen-year-old these days?

But between reaching all our goals of perfection, we had let the passion go stale. And now, we sat in our perfect home, sharing half-received grunts of messages between us.

Carolyn must have followed the same trail of thoughts.

“How did we come to this?” she asked, looking at me with sad eyes.

She brushed the long, red lock of hair from her face. At thirty-six, she still looked fantastic, thanks to our well-planned, perfect exercise routine.

“Do you remember when we first met?” she asked, “We couldn’t keep our hands off each other! Friday night was always the start of a long weekend of passionate, wild sex! Look at us now! We’re barely able to keep a conversation going…”

I was about to say something, reminding her that conversation wasn’t exactly what we used to engage ourselves in back then either, but seeing the sadness on her face, now wasn’t the time.

“Yeah…the power of youth,” I said, “Before work, obligations, and mortgages, this whole grand illusion of perfection! Before we got so entangled in this idea of how grown-ups need to be and how they need to live. Before promotions had us chasing the next promotion, before the new car needed to outmatch our neighbor’s, before…”

“Before me?” Sarah’s voice interrupted from the hallway.

I looked up at her, peeking into the den. Sarah was the spitting image of her mother, apart from the ‘neat and tidy gene’; her auburn hair was a messy testament to the 1980s, a voluminous cascade of wild curls and teased strands that seemed to defy gravity. Dark eyeliner lay heavy against her pale skin. She shamelessly wore a skimpy black tank top with some unknown band name, a tight leather skirt over her fishnet tights, and big leather boots.

“What? No…no, no, no,” Carolyn and I started.

“Never you, Sarah!” I said, “What are you doing at home? Weren’t you going out to a concert?”

“It got canceled. So, here I am… You guys are so pathetic! You sound like you’re a hundred years old and life has passed you by! Life is for the fucking living, so why don’t you start living yours!”

“Oi! Language!” Carolyn started, “And go clean that eyeliner off your face; you look like a tramp!”

“Sure thing, Mom,” Sarah grunted as she shook her head at us and headed for her room.

“I worry about her sometimes,” Carolyn whispered.

“She’s fine,” I said, “She’s sixteen; let her find herself on her own terms. Besides, she does have a point.”

“I know,” Carolyn sighed.

Again, we descended into our own thoughts in silence. I was halfway through another article I couldn’t concentrate on when Carolyn spoke again.

“Do you remember our honeymoon?”

“Mmhmm…” I responded.

“You couldn’t keep our hands off me, not even when we visited the Navajo Nation. Can you remember that?”

It seemed a vague memory now, but I remembered that summer of Carolyn’s early pregnant belly. I remembered the two of us sneaking off all the time to steal moments to play with each other’s bodies. I remembered the Navajo Nation mainly because Carolyn had turned into an insatiable slut, and we had fucked each other’s brains out in the most inappropriate places.

“Do you remember the medicine woman? What did they call her? Ádzónií?”

I remembered the old woman. She had caught us in the bushes, and when we, flushed from both sex and embarrassment, stepped onto the dusty trail, she stood there waiting. She had motioned for us to follow her. We sat with her in the dark around the firepit, where she burned herbs and twigs on the fire. She had murmured a soft song in ancient words we could not comprehend.

“What was it she said to us?”

“Something about spending our spirits?” I recalled.

“Yes! She warned us. She said we were burning our youthful spirit way too fast, something about how our spirits would grow old before our time!”

The old woman had spoken in length about many things that night, and Carolyn and I had sat there, mesmerized, listening to her tales in the glow of the fire. She had indeed started talking about Carolyn and myself and expressed both worry and concern.

“Yes! Isn’t that when she started brewing that potion?” I asked, keen interest had started to sprout in my heart.

She had indeed started brewing; some leaves were put straight into her pot, and some were burned as the old woman hummed or sang before the ashes were added to the mix. Each ingredient had its own enchantment brought on to it.

As we were getting ready to leave the following day, she called us over and gave us a clay vial.

“What was it she told us?” I asked.

“Something along the lines of ‘When you find yourself separated from your spirit self, outspent your years and desires; three drops each in equal amounts of liquid you must share,’ wasn’t it?”

We both turned to the shelf above the fireplace where the vial had been sitting since we moved in 8 years ago. We sprung to our feet, and Carolyn beat me to it as she picked up the vial and turned to me.

Her eyes burned with a fire I hadn’t seen in a long time. A long lock of her red hair fell to her face and seemed to burn on her pale skin.

“Do you think…should we try?” she whispered.

The vial had been sealed up for almost seventeen years and had been with us through four moves. Whatever contents it held inside, surely it had gone stale by now.

“Seventeen-year-old witchcraft? That’s our next step?” I questioned, but admittedly, I was more than curious.

“Well…now seems the time, if any,” Carolyn replied, her breath revealing her anticipation.

“I’m sure it won’t kill us, at least.”

We rushed to the kitchen, and Carolyn rustled through the bottom drawer, finding the pipette buried at the bottom.

“Equal amounts of liquid. What liquid? Any liquid? The same liquid for both of us?” Carolyn’s questions came more hurriedly than a child’s excitement on Christmas morning.

“I’m sure any liquid will do. I can’t recall her specifying. I’m sure we will be fine as long as we drink the same thing, and in equal amounts. Wine? Yes! Wine must be the right choice,” I decided.

I swiftly grabbed two wine glasses and sat them on the kitchen counter. I found myself wondering what wine would best suit this occasion before realizing it didn’t matter; I opened the bottle and carefully filled the glasses with precisely the same amount. Carolyn double-checked, and I did a third inspection.

“How precise do you think the Navajo measures ‘equal amounts’?” I pondered.

“And she didn’t say what to expect if we didn’t share equal amounts,” Carolyn said with a hint of hesitation in her voice.

She looked at me as if to question what we were doing.

“No point in stopping now,” I reassured her. “Most likely, whatever potency this liquid had seventeen years ago, it’s just water now.”

Carolyn’s hands trembled as she broke the vial's wax seal and removed the cork cap. She sniffed the contents and looked at me.

“Near odorless, but a hint of something,” she whispered.

I smelled the vial and came to the same conclusion: a faint smell of…something. It wasn’t unpleasant by any means, but I wasn’t sure it was something I’d instinctively drink, either.

Carolyn grabbed the pipette and filled it from the vial. The liquid was as clear as water.

“Three drops each, right?” she said as she looked to me for confirmation.

I nodded and oversaw her distribute three drops of the liquid into each of our glasses. She emptied the remaining liquid back into the vial and put the cork back in.

“Are we supposed to stir it?” she asked.

I looked at her with confusion. The old woman had left us with little instructions. I started to realize why medication comes with such elaborate instructions.

“Not sure,” I said, “but perhaps we’d better not?”

We lifted our glasses, toasted to the hope of success, and took the glasses to our mouths.

“Wait!” Carolyn interrupted, “Do we drink it all at once? Is there a certain timeframe in which we need to consume the wine?”

“I think we’d best drink it all at once,” I said, regretting filling the glasses so full.

We counted to three and chugged down the drink. I made sure not to empty mine before she did.

We stood there, looking at each other. Apart from the warm tingling of the wine, there was nothing.

“Well?” she said, “How do you feel?”

“Nothing,” I said, looking into her eyes, “Not a single thing.”

“Me neither,” she said, disappointment clouding her voice.

Her shoulders sank, and the flame in her eyes died as she turned around and headed down the hallway.

“I’m going to bed,” she yawned.

I tidied up, rinsed the pipette, and put the glasses in the dishwasher. I picked up the vial and returned to the living room to put it back on the mantlepiece.

“What’s that, dad?” Sarah’s voice questioned from the hallway.

I looked up at her, still wearing her eyeliner.

“Oh, hey, Sarah! I didn’t see you there.”

“I was going to the bathroom, but Mom’s in there. What is that, Dad?”

“Just something your mom and I picked up on our honeymoon.”

“Yeah…I heard you guys talking about three drops and equal amounts of liquid and whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes.

How much had she overheard?

“Just some sort of Navajo healing potion, Sarah. Mumbo, jumbo, and witchcraft, all in a stupid combination.”

“Oh…so your love potion didn’t work?”

Sarah laughed and shook her head. Then, she came over and hugged me.

“I’m going out with Trina and Sophie, don’t sit up! Love you, Dad!”

And with that, she spun around, entered the hallway, grabbed her jacket, and exited the door.

“It's not a bad idea,” I thought to myself, “Maybe I should go out and get hammered as well.”

Instead, I turned on the TV as I heard Carolyn exit the bathroom, answered her ‘Goodnight’ with one of my own, and continued flicking aimlessly through the channels.

About an hour later, I had had enough. I brushed my teeth and headed to bed. Carolyn was already fast asleep.

***

I had a haunted sleep that night. I remember tossing and turning, distant drums, and chanting. I felt burning fire running through my blood, like a river of lava pumping through my veins. I saw myself sitting in the glow of a fire and my mirror image rising in the form of smoke and escaping into the starlit sky.

I woke up in a gasp. My heart was pounding. I sat up.

A strange sensation shot through my nipples as my chest jiggled. I looked down; Carolyn’s silk nightgown caressed her round breasts, and her nipples poked at the fabric; her long, red hair flowed down my chest. My heart stopped. I flung my head to the left, to my side, of the bed, and I was fast asleep. Rather, my body was sleeping next to me. Should I wake…me up?

I cupped my face in my hands and felt Carolyn’s soft hands on my skin. Quickly, I withdrew the hands and stared at them.

“What the fuck?!” my mind’s voice shouted. “What the actual fuck is going on?!”

Slowly, I curled my left hand into a fist and relaxed it again, mesmerized at how this new body seemed to answer my commands just as easily as my own. I slapped my right cheek, and the stinging pain confirmed two things: I was in complete control of Carolyn’s body and wide awake.

I placed the hand on the collarbone and felt the soft skin, her skin, under my palm. I let the hand slide down the silk fabric, following the curvature of Carolyn’s breast. A tingling sensation shot through me as I caressed the erect nipple. I stopped, pinched the nipple between my thumb and index finger, and let out a soft moan.

I quickly clasped both hands to my mouth in shock at hearing Carolyn’s voice exit me. I glanced over at my sleeping body to ensure I hadn’t woken …her? My body exhaled a big snore, twisted slightly, but stayed firmly asleep.

I slid the straps of Carolyn’s nightgown over the shoulders and let them fall down the arms. Disappointed, I could only observe how the fabric didn’t slide down to bare her chest. I pulled at the cloth, and it fell to my lap, exposing my wife’s wonderfully round tits. I grasped them with both hands, astonished at how big they felt.

“Carolyn’s hands are smaller than yours, idiot!” the voice inside my head reminded me.

I caressed them, found the erect nipples, and gave them a firm pinch. The sensation was stronger this time, shooting up my neck and down my insides, shooting into my crotch.

“Oh, God!” I moaned loudly.

I lifted her boobs and sucked her nipples into my mouth, and my crotch rewarded me with a warm, intense itch.

I pulled the nightgown up along her thighs, exposing Carolyn’s red bush. When did she stop trimming? My hands slid down her flat stomach, through the unruly bush, brazed the swollen clit, sending electric shocks up my spine, and dug themselves into Carolyn’s wet hole.

“Oh, my fucking God!” I whimpered as one hand found her erect clit while the other curved its fingers deep inside the wet, throbbing hole.

I lay down and spread the legs, fuck it, I spread my legs and rubbed my clit, heaving for breath. My breathing turned into moans, and I clasped my free hand over my mouth to silence the loud whimpers escaping me.

My ass clenched, my pelvic muscles contracted, and a warm sensation shot up in waves from my pussy, spreading through my body. My toes curled, and my back arched as I released a long whimper, suppressing a guttural scream. Wetness soaked my fingers as I slid them deep inside Carolyn’s cunt and closed my trembling thighs around my hand.

I gasped for air and pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes. That was the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced, yet instead of content satisfaction, I felt a vast emptiness of unfulfillment occupy my entire body. I was burning with unrewarded lust that demanded immediate attention.

I looked over at my sleeping body. Shame filled me as I gently moved next to it and pulled the covers down. I felt instant gratification from the hours spent at the gym when I revealed my pecs and rippled abs but cursed myself for not going to sleep commando.

My cock stood erect, tenting my boxers. I lay in shock and awe, staring at it throbbing and shifting slightly under the black material.

“Surely, you’re not thinking…” the voice in my head started, but my hand had been quicker.

I stroked gently on the fat meat suppressed in my underwear, and its hardness sent new trembles shooting into my crotch.

I slid myself down on the bed, aligning my head with my body’s crotch. I let my fingers trail the outline of my cock and caressed the shapely form of the head. I leaned in and took a deep sniff.

“What the hell are you doing?” my inner voice protested.

“Shut up, you annoying dweeb!” I whispered, “You’ve never had an aching pussy to deal with, so don’t pretend you have any idea what you’re talking about. Go away!”

My mind stilled, and I picked up where I trailed off. I carefully hooked my fingers inside the lining of the boxers, then gently lifted them up and over the cock, and pulled them down. The head of my cock poked out, and I leaned in and ran the tip of my nose along its corona. My mouth slid open just enough to let the tip of my tongue out and pamper my glans.

Greed washed over me; lustful, animalistic gluttony gripped my entire body.

I pulled the boxers down, freeing my entire shaft, and I ran my hungry tongue all along the shaft from the base to the tip, running it along the rippled head. Once more, I licked along the veiny girth and traced the head with my tongue. I looked down at the glistening glans, opened my mouth, and let the meaty head slip past my lips and into my mouth.

I moaned as Carolyn’s pussy shivered, and I felt the wetness escaping me and pooling onto the sheets.

I released the cock from my mouth, along with a waterfall of drool, and watched as my saliva ran down my throbbing cock. I slurped the head back into my mouth until it pressed at the back of my mouth, then slowly started bobbing my head up...