NotExpected 04

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn Despite Sandra's good intentions, I still had an uneasy feeling about Grandma's predictions. I wasn't sure why. After all, this ceremony would more than likely to be nothing more than an expensive waste of time. Just like all our other attempts. "Did you ask her how much we owe for her services?" I asked. "Oh, she said that wasn't necessary," she replied. "Being friends of Tom's, she thinks of us as family." In hindsight, that statement should have set off some warning bells for me.

Chapter 4

We did spend time exploring New Orleans and had a wonderful mini-vacation. The two days of exploring the city together, along with candle lit dinners and evening walks, even brought a little romance back into our lives. Sandra went way out of her way to demonstrate how much she loved me. The sex was the best we'd had in a long time as there was no schedule to keep or pressure to perform. I had hoped that this would bring the child Sandra wanted so badly and repair our strained marriage. The vacation definitely helped our marriage, but did not produce a child.

When we got home, it was back to the same old work grind. We did spend relaxing evenings together and had fun hiking in the woods on the weekends to see the brilliant fall colors. There was little discussion about babies. Life seemed to be settling down. If anything, we were starting to enjoy each other's company more than we had in a long time. Our sex life had also improved dramatically, at least for the first month.

Over the weeks following our return things started to change.

The first thing that I noticed is that my appetite all but disappeared. I started skipping breakfast. After a month the only food that I was consuming was a snack at lunchtime and bird-like portions at dinner. Within two months of our visit to Grandma Broussard dinner no longer held any real appeal to me. I was losing weight at a steady rate. This was not particularly a bad thing as I was a little pudgy around the middle without being significantly overweight. I was in need of new clothes at the end of two months as my old wardrobe was definitely meant for a heavier man. I also lost a little height and muscle mass.

"Andy," my mother looked concerned, "why aren't you eating?"

We were visiting my parents for a Sunday dinner towards the end of October.

"I am," I pointed to the small helping of mixed vegetables and a very small piece of pork chop on my plate. I had barely touched my salad.

"That's not eating," my Father pointed out. "That's snacking."

"Did you eat before coming over?," Mom asked with a touch of accusation in her voice.

"No, Mom," I told her. "I'm just not hungry these days."

"I'm concerned about him," Sandra pointed out. "He's hardly eating anything these days. He's lost over ten pounds in the last month."

"It's a bit concerning," I admitted. "But I can stand to lose the weight. I'm sure that my appetite will come back soon. At least I hope so. And I'm not the only one. Sandra is eating less and has lost a few pounds as well."

"Yes," Mom observed, "She has lost a few pounds and she looks good. While she's not eating much tonight, she took twice as much as you did. She's still eating like a woman should. Your eating is just out of character. And you don't look healthy either."

"I'm doing fine, mother," I responded.

Have you gone to the doctor about this?" Mom asked. "You really should be seen."

"Not yet," I admitted. "If this keeps up another week, then maybe I will."

"Make an appointment tomorrow," my Father directed. "If you don't, you'll never hear the end of it."

Both women at the table glared at him.

"In the meantime," Mom said, "here's some mashed potatoes. You could use with a big helping."

A couple of days later we had dinner with Sandra's parents.

Looking at my tiny portions, my mother-in-law asked, "Is there something wrong with the food Andy?"

Before I could get a reply out, Sandra informed her, "It's not the food, Mom. Andy hasn't been eating anything lately. He has lost his appetite and a lot of weight over the past month."

"The food is great," I managed to interject into the conversation. "I just can't eat much right now."

"Have you seen a doctor?" she asked with great concern. "I hear that people with cancer lose their appetites. Maybe you have cancer. You should get checked out."

I was given a double helping of apple pie ala mode that night 'to help me gain some weight'. It was a struggle to get it down, but I had to do it. My mother-in-law was watching my every bite.

That night, Sandra was feeling exceptionally amours. When we got home, she disappeared into our bedroom, while I turned on the evening news in the living room.

Sandra walked up quietly behind the couch and put her arms around my neck and nibbled on my ear.

"You might want to turn the TV off lover," she whispered in my ear.

She came around the couch as I complied with her request.

She was wearing a very sexy negligee that I had never seen before. I stared at her as she posed before sitting on my lap.

"See anything you like, big boy?" she purred while planting gentle kisses all over my face before planting her lips on mine for the most passionate kiss that I had received in a long time.

Coming up for air, I responded. "Somebody went shopping."

"For your eyes only, sweetheart," she responded with a sexy grin.

I won't go into the details of what happened next, but I did my best to hold up my end of the union.

Later, as we cuddled in bed in the afterglow of our love, she purred, "That was wonderful, Andy. You made me come three times."

"I am happy to be of service, my love," I smiled at her. I loved to cuddle with her and was enjoying being close to her.

"We've had some really great sex since we came back from Louisiana, but I sense that it is getting more difficult for you," she observed, "I just wish it wasn't such a struggle for you."

It appeared that she noticed that I had trouble reaching my own climax. It had been getting progressively harder for the last couple of weeks. It was frustrating, but I could still find ways to help her reach hers. If anything, while I was having more and more trouble reaching a climax, she would reach hers more easily than ever before. It didn't take much to get her motor running. I enjoyed watching her glow after each of our sessions.

"You noticed," I said with a sigh. "It is getting more difficult."

"Am I doing something wrong?" she queried with true concern.

"Heavens no!" I exclaimed. "If anything, I've never seen you so sexy in the years we've been married."

In addition to her weight loss she may even have grown a little taller. She was starting to look more like a fashion model than an investment counselor.

"Then what's the problem?" she asked.

"I don't know," I responded, "I think that it's related to the weight loss."

"Well you better follow advice and go get checked out," she directed me. "I've been feeling more aroused lately and I need you at the top of your game."

I made a doctor's appointment the next day.

It was a week before I was able to get in to see our family doctor. It was in early November, six weeks after our vacation in Louisiana. After giving me a basic physical, she ran a few tests over the next couple of days. She could not find any significant health issues, such as cancer. What she did find was that my hormone levels were out of specs with lower than expected testosterone production and a slight increase in estrogen levels. My hormones weren't too far out of balance but enough to cause concern. She also confirmed that my weight had dropped substantially since my prior visit several months earlier. She was also confused by the fact that I appeared to have also lost an inch in height. She agreed that my reduced sex drive was probably related to whatever health problem I was experiencing.

"Andy," the doctor asked, "have you done anything that accounts for the loss of appetite and mixed up hormones? You're not taking any un-prescribed medications are you?

"No medications of any type," I told her. "Not even aspirin. I don't know what's happening with me. That's why I came to you."

Well, the statement about not knowing what's happening to me was technically true, but I was having my suspicions. I had been noticing a distinct pink tinge developing around the edges of the crystal that I received from Grandma Broussard. I had built a stand for it and had placed it in a prominent place in our bedroom. If Grandma was correct, changes are occurring as the magic takes hold in my life. I wasn't, however, prepared to share with the good doctor my growing suspicion that Grandma's magic was at the heart of the problem. It was, after all, nothing but hocus pocus. Wasn't it? And she wouldn't believe me anyway.

"Well," she continued, "I'm going to have to do some research on this. I've never seen anything like your symptoms. In the meantime, I want you to take two of these testosterone pills every night before bed. Come see me next week and we'll see what happens. Here are orders for blood tests. I need you to get your blood drawn the day before you come to see me."

She gave me the hormone pills and sent me on my way.

The pills had no effect. If anything the balance was even more off on my next visit. I had also lost a lot more weight in the intervening week. She began consulting specialists and we started weekly visits to monitor whatever was happening.

I also found that my need to shave daily was getting to be less pronounced with time. When we went to Louisiana, I had fairly heavy stubble and had problems with five o'clock shadow. Sandra used to make me shave after work if we were going out for the evening. By mid-October, I was no longer needing to shave in the evenings. Early in November, I was shaving wispy hairs about three times a week. My face was also getting much softer. My skin was getting clearer and smoother. The doctor was intrigued by this development. Unfortunately, she had no explanation for it outside the hormonal imbalance.

One evening in November, Sandra asked, "Do you think that Grandma Broussard had anything to do with this?"

"I am starting to think so," I admitted.

"I thought you said that it was all hocus pocus," She responded.

"I did," I pointed out, "but there is no other explanation. But you're not pregnant yet. She promised you three children."

"Grandma said that it would take some time." Sandra reminded me. "We are still looking for that young teenage girl to appear. I get the feeling that the pregnancy won't happen until after she shows up."

"I still don't get that." I replied, "Why do we need a teenage girl best friend first?"

"I don't know, lover," She replied, "but maybe we should paint the spare bedroom lavender or pink, get a vanity, and some frilly curtains and bed clothes for the spare room so that we are ready when she arrives."

"Whatever." I responded with a lack of conviction. I didn't say anything to Sandra, but I was just hoping that we weren't decorating my future bedroom.

We painted the room that next weekend. New bedroom furniture was installed the following week. I think that Sandra was starting to believe Grandma's prophecy.

----<0>----

At my extended family's annual Thanksgiving dinner event, I got ribbed mercilessly about my baby face and loss of weight. I was unable to do the feast any justice at all. I only nibbled at a vegetable tray.

----<0>----

One of the unadvertised benefits of working at a university, for most male employees, is the large number of attractive young women around. Given that it was the start of winter in Wisconsin and everyone was bundled in warm clothing, the coeds still manage to look attractive. While I have never been tempted to pursue any of them, any male will tell you that being around attractive women is a plus most of the time. They are easy to appreciate.

One day in mid-December, while returning to the office after a service call, I walked through the student union where it is common to see a lot of people, including the coeds. In times past, I have enjoyed the feminine scenery while walking through the building. So it came as a disturbing surprise to me, as I was leaving the building, when I realized that I had not noticed a single coed. Not one. Stopping and looking back the way that I had come, I saw several groups of girls. All of them quite pretty. I wondered how I had walked past them without noticing.

That evening, I took a good look at Sandra while we worked together at preparing a light dinner. She seemed happy and looked better than she did a few months earlier in the yoga pants and loose sleeveless top that she had changed into after work. Sandra now had a willowy figure that gave your average fashion model a run for her money. She had recently gone bra shopping as her bust had increased from a B cup to a healthy C cup. That night she was wearing a pushup bra and she was making sure that it got into my field of view as often as possible. No longer the dowdy wife that she had been, Sandra had upgraded her wardrobe to make the most of her new beauty and she looked several years younger than she had when this all started. She was being very tactile, occasionally patting my butt, giving me a hip bump when we were trying to occupy the same space, stealing quick kisses, and dispensing hugs on a whim. She was constantly giving me 'come hither' looks with a playful grin. There was no doubt what was on her mind for after dinner entertainment. At one point, I just gathered her into a hug and we slow danced to a song that we had playing in the background. I realized that I just loved to hold her. I also realized that I was not feeling sexually aroused. Not even a stirring. I just had a warm fuzzy feeling of contentment. That night, I focused on pleasuring her. I never did climax. My sex drive was all but gone, but I enjoyed making her happy.

As we approached the New Year, we'd often spend long hours just talking and holding each other. We both opened up to the other more than we had ever done before. I learned more about her life, hopes, and dreams than I ever had. I found myself opening up more about the things that make me tick. More than I ever had with anyone else. Sandra was a great listener and we'd discuss the relationship challenges at our respective jobs and with our families for hours on end. All the conversation seemed to strengthen the bond between us. Even though sex was a challenge, we were actually closer emotionally than we had ever been before.

The only subject that we avoided was Grandma Broussard's magic and Tom's involvement in it. I think that we both hoped that by not talking about the elephant in the room that it would just go away.

It didn't.

As with most conversational elephants, the more we tried to ignore it, the bigger it seemed to get.

While she didn't talk much about him, Sandra told me that she still met with Tom regularly as part of her job. She insisted that the meetings take place at the office and not over lunch. Sandra would have another associate there whenever possible. Tom seemed to be taking the cooling relations well. Sandra said that they were working well as a team to grow his new business venture and to wisely manage his financial resources.

Reports from the family doctor indicated the hormonal battle going on in my blood stream was being won by estrogen. We tried hormone replacement therapy without success. Testosterone was losing the battle but it wasn't going down without a fight. It was embarrassing, but my doctor started to take weekly measurements of my male genitals when they first showed signs of shrinkage. In December, the shrinkage was not dramatic but it was there.

Sandra, of course, noticed. After all she seemed to want to have as much contact with my genitals as possible.

"Andy?" she asked tentatively one evening towards the end of December after a less than satisfactory sexual encounter. "Are your genitals shrinking?"

"Yes," I sighed. "I've lost an inch in length."

"You've been measuring?" she asked a little surprised.

"Actually," I let her know, "the doctor is taking weekly measurements. My genitals are shrinking."

"She better be the only other woman inspecting your equipment," she said playfully.

I blushed.

"She is," I confirmed.

Sandra starting taking her own measurements to monitor the loss.

As I mentioned, Sandra had been undergoing a few subtle changes of her own.

By the New Year, Sandra had become the most beautiful woman that I had ever known. And she was making the most of it with stylish new clothes, hair, and makeup. Her self image was definitely more confident. She was enjoying being the most beautiful woman in every setting. I now had my very own trophy wife.

The looks of appreciation from other men were causing me jealousy issues. When we were out or at Holiday parties, she was hit on a number of times when guys didn't think I was around and/or listening. I'm sure that it happened a lot when I was not around. The good news was that she always rebuffed advances by flashing her wedding ring and letting it be known that she was happily married. I never saw anything from her that would indicate a roving eye on her part even though our sex life was on the rocks.

My changes were also getting some notice. My coworkers were concerned for my health. My extended family was shocked by my appearance when we had family gatherings during the Holidays. Sandra's family also expressed some concern whenever we visited with them. Everyone said that I looked ten years younger, which is a problem since I had my thirty second birthday at the end of December. Being twenty two again isn't all bad, but it has its drawbacks. Unfortunately, I was not becoming a trophy husband to match my trophy wife.

Both of our families, on the other hand, wanted to know the secret to Sandra's transformation. They were all impressed. The women wanted to know what diet she was on and what gym she was working out in.

At the end of the year, the crystal had very pink ends and the pink was slowly and steadily pushing towards the center. The magic was at work.

So by the New Year, my wife was a babe and I was a shrinking skinny androgynous young adult getting younger every day and with out-of-whack hormones and little to no sex drive. In many ways, our friendship was the best it had ever been as the result of our hours of shared thoughts and feelings. While we still worked at sex, it was getting increasingly more difficult for me to perform sexually.

While we never talked about it, both of us were starting to see where Grandma Broussard's magic was taking us.

Neither one of us were thrilled.