An Adam From An Eve Ch. 01

Chapter One: Before the magic, there was plain old booze

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Looking back, Amy and Jane must have been more than a little tipsy that entire weekend, right after their college graduation. It really is the only explanation for most of the events that led to the night that changed their lives. But let's start from the beginning.

They had been friends their entire lives, almost literally, as their mom's had in turn also been inseparable since high school and had even gotten married and pregnant at the same time. This meant that they were not only friends, but also the closest thing to a sibling that each one had, as they were both also only children. They had grown up together, attended the same schools from the time they were kids all the way to the day they had both been accepted and left for the same college. To say that they were a little close, was like saying that the ocean was a little wet.

Close as they were, though, it did not mean that they were carbon copies of each other. They actually were quite different. Amy had grown up to be a typical beauty queen, tall, leggy and blonde, while Jane was the typical girl next door all boys dream of taking home to mom. Their personalities pretty much matched their exteriors, too: Amy was impulsive, and even though she had brains to match her beauty, she definitely found it hard to say no to either a good party or a good bottle of tequila. Jane, on the other hand, had a thoughtful quality to her; she was rational, calm and incredibly sweet. They were as unlikely a pair as they were an inseparable one.

The day of their college graduation, they had decided to pack up as soon as their family obligations were through and leave together for one last big adventure before their adult lives caught up with them. Amy had recently inherited a small cabin located up in the foothills of some beautiful mountains, right next to a gorgeous lake. They had both decided that since it was only a four-hour drive, they would pack up and spend a few weeks "relaxing" in the cabin. And while Jane had actually meant it in a literal sense, Amy, in typical Amy fashion, had already informed all of her friends that the cabin would be open for any and all post-graduation celebration parties for the next few weeks.

The party had started as soon as they had parked their car on the premises. There had already been friends and "friends of friends" waiting, alcohol in tow, for the grand opening of party central.

"You know, Ames," started Jane, with a little reproach in her voice, "you could have at least told all these people to wait until we, you know, finished unpacking before they started setting up camp here."

Amy rolled her eyes, even as she smiled warmly at her friend. "Relax, Janey. It's graduation day. We all want to blow up some steam. Besides, it's probably the last time we'll see most of these people. Believe me, in a couple of days, you'll get all the time you want to bury your head in all of those books that are weighing down my car right now."

Janey couldn't help smiling back. She had decided to relax and enjoy the time she had left with her best friend, and if that entailed a couple of ragers, so be it. They were both old enough to drink and the place was surrounded by a couple of acres of unadulterated and empty woods, so there was little chance of complaining neighbors. Besides, in only a few months, she would leave for London, where she had an internship waiting for her. For once, she was following Amy's example and just letting things go where they went.

She just never imagined the place that decision would ultimately lead her to.

The rager took less than an hour to get started. Friends from college and, hell, even high school, had showed up with an amazing selection of booze and a party spirit. For the longest time, things progressed like they always do when there's alcohol and young people eager to blow off steam: wildly. Maybe a little too wildly for Jane, who after a while, decided that she didn't want to die of alcohol poisoning before seeing Big Ben and decided to quietly escape to the basement, which had been off limits.

Contrary to popular belief, Amy was definitely not a bimbo. She cared about her friends, especially Jane, enough to disengage from the random hipster who was currently trying to get into her panties as soon as she noticed her friend had been gone for a while.

"Where's Jane?" She asked, to no one in particular, while the guy nuzzled her neck, tickling her sensitive skin with his ironic mustache.

"Who knows?" Random said, and swooped into her mouth, coaxing her lips open with a surprisingly deft tongue, as his hands started massaging her ass.

As a rule, Amy was pretty free with her body. Not in the slutty way that kids in high school had taken her to be, due to her rounded, ample ass and her pair of C-cups. She had been a virgin until her sophomore year of college. However after she'd had her first man, she had decided that sex was definitely her cup of tea and had decided that she wanted it the way so many of her friends wanted an occasional joint when they partied: guilt-free and strictly recreationally. She didn't need to have an emotional connection with a guy to let him fuck her. The only connection she was ready to have with one, actually, was the one of a hard cock inside her.

She groaned into the hipster's mouth. He had no idea who he was or who had invited him, but damn if he wasn't good with his hands. She wished she could have relaxed more into his groping and taken him someplace where she could finally get to experience a hipster mustache to the cunt. She was however, preoccupied by Jane's disappearance and no amount of inebriation or horniness could drive that from her mind.

"Sorry," she said finally after she couldn't focus on the gropefest any longer. "I gotta go find my friend.

Random guy groaned in frustration and pushed off her. "It's cool," he said, trying to feign almost disinterest. "Feel free to come back after you find her. And definitely feel free to bring her along."

This brought up Amy's defensive side. "Please," she said in annoyance. "Like I'd ever let her hook up with some party crasher with a gold prospector's mustache. She's too good for that."

She stood up, regaining her footing and left before the random hipster could find a retort. She started looking around for her in all the usual places and had started to panic a little after her unsuccessful search when she realized where the most obvious hideout would be and headed straight for the basement. She had locked it before things got started and had given Janey a copy of the key and kept one for herself.

As expected, Jane was lying back on an old couch, good old book in hand, reading by the faint light of an old night lamp. Amy almost laughed when she saw her. Jane looked up, startled. "Oh, If I had known where the real party was going on, I would've come down here ages ago," Amy said, sarcastically.

Jane smirked. She was used to Amy's teasing by then and knew she didn't mean anything by it. "Well, I would've invited you, but I thought you wanted a chance to ride that hipster's fixie."

Amy blushed only mildly and joined her friend on the couch. She was close to drunk and still a little flushed from the previous gropefest. "No worries. I'm sure I can find some stud to let me ride his Schwinn instead." She took a glance at the odd leather tome Jane was browsing through. "So, what are you reading, anyway?"

"Your family history, I think." Jane replied. "Found it just lying around in a box down here. Apparently you come from a line of gypsies."

Amy seemed to remember that her grandmother had mentioned the Romani at some point, but she had always shrugged it off. Eastern European descent would probably explain the light olive in her skin, but her heritage had never concerned her.

"Actually most of this seems to be a translation. As far as I can tell, your grandma was translating your family history, some random lore and..." she trailed off.

Jane had graduated with a degree in history and was finding the book fascinating. What she was dreading, though, was actually letting her friend in on the secret that her grandmother had apparently dabbled in witchcraft.

"And what?" Asked Amy, leaning in to inspect the book, trying to clear the alcohol from her mind enough to figure out what Jane was saying.

"Well, there's all these, spells, I guess. You grandma was apparently really into incantations and spells and that sort of thing. She even documented 'results' after she tested some of them."

Amy burst out laughing. "God, Jane! My grandma was the most normal lady on earth! She was into crochet and church, not the dark arts!"

They both burst out laughing together, the tension of the moment dissipating.

"Seriously, Ames, though. Look..." Jane turned to a bookmarked page. The old, yellowed page was titled "An Adam from an Eve".

Amy began reading out loud

"During ancient times of war, men would leave for other lands and women would take their place. And while they could toil in the fields and plow the land, harvest and provide as well as men, women needed to ensure their family lines would continue. Too proud to accept the seed of outsiders, these women crafted a spell to ensure a male presence in their villages even when all the men were away.

"A nude virgin female would stand in the presence of another female in heat, who had already had been primed with libations in order to better allow the passage of magicks. The female in heat would recite the following spell:

Woman or man, Adam or Eve,

Of you I will always need,

sometimes of your love,

sometimes of your seed

and always that need you'll feed.

Both made of clay,

women and men

molded again,

Let only the shape of you be changed!

There was an awkward moment of silence between them. Amy didn't realize how eagerly she had been reading these lines. Truth be told, the story had come alive in her head. She could all of a sudden see these women in a circle, reciting the incantations. For some reason, the spell itself seemed oddly... erotic. If you thought about it it was basically a drunk chick asking a very trusted friend to give her what she needed.

Amy quickly shook her head. For a quick second the image of Janey, the virginal friend, nude, naive and oddly eager had entered her head and quickly traveled through her nerve endings to her crotch. "Whoa," she muttered, more because of the thoughts that had occupied her than because of the whole "spell" malarkey.

"No kidding," Jane said, evidently oblivious to her friend's sudden erotic reaction. "It reads more like a sapphic folk tale than anything else."

"I don't know, Janey. I've met a lot of lesbians and I am pretty sure they would not enjoy the thought of turning each other into men."

"Okay, well... I guess you have to turn the page to see my point, Ames," Jane said, turning the page herself and inadvertently brushing Amy's breast, eliciting some mad blushing from her friend.

Amy took a deep breath, not wanting to follow the wanton and newly sexual thoughts she was suddenly having about her friend. Instead she made a conscious effort to focus on the words in front of her and resumed reading out loud.

"The virgin female would then lie down and the female in heat would lie on top of her. The female in heat would drink from from the mouth and then from the womb of the virginal one. Then they would both partake in additional libations and lie together until sunrise. In the morning the female in heat would extract the virgin's male seed with hurry, as the spell only lasts until the next sunset."

Amy stared at Jane, mouth agape. "Wait, wait," she said. "Let me get this straight: So these two women basically eat each other out and-"

"Actually only the virgin gets eaten out," Jane remarked almost clinically, oblivious of the weirdly arousing effect those words had on Amy. "If the spell is to be believed the other chick basically gets it the next morning."

It was then that Amy say a little note in the margin of the page that read: "Personally proved the validity of this spell. ERM." Those had been her grandmother's initials. Did that mean that grandma had dabbled in more than just the dark arts, so to speak?

Her grandparents had long ago converted the basement into a den of sorts. There was a pullout couch, a couple of armchairs, a television and most importantly, a liquor cabinet. During family reunions, the adults had escaped to the basement while the younger generations had had the run of the cabin. Amy thought that she hadn't even remembered the liquor cabinet in the room. If any occasion require a lot of alcohol, it was probably this one.

"I think I need a drink. My grandparents had some good stuff in the cabinet, if I remember correctly," she said as she walked to cabinet. "Can I get you something, Janey?"

Jane actually enjoyed alcohol. She was far from being a prude. She was an almost accidentally virgin, the product of a combination of having been too busy with her double major of business and history and having only met real idiots in college. However she adored a good drink or three if she had the right company, like, say, her dear friend Amy.

"Check if they have Scotch," she requested. "Old people always hoard the really good stuff."

Amy chuckled as she inspected the contents. Surprisingly enough, none of the cabin's caretakers had ever thought of pilfering the alcohol stock. "Glenlivet! You have the best luck, Janey!"

She brought the bottle to the couch and a couple of glasses that were not as dusty as they should have been, considering it had been a while since they had been use. She poured a couple of double shots. "Bottom's up, friend!" she said, and they quickly downed their glasses.

"This stuff is the best!" said Jane as she quickly poured them another round, which they quickly proceeded to down.

Jane returned her attention to the book. "I find it fascinating. I mean, I guess it makes you think about if you would ever want to be a man, even for a little bit."

"Don't tell me you believe this!" exclaimed Amy. "Grandma was probably just living out a couple of fantasies there."

"Well, no," admitted Jane. "Of course not. But the thought of being someone else, just for a little while, of trying out a new skin just for a few hours, just to see how it feels... That's what I find fascinating."

Amy had always loved that her friend was so passionate; not just about books, but about experiences in general. However for the first time, she was suddenly finding that passion very, very hot. She glanced at Jane, who was pouring herself yet another drink of the "good stuff". She had always pretended she was a, well, "plain Jane" so to speak, but she was anything but. Even with her hair pulled back in her long ponytail and wearing jeans and a tee, she was extremely enticing. Her breasts were the perfect combination of not too small and extremely perky that men just wanted to pop into their mouths for hours. Men and at least one woman, now.

They had slept together too many times to count without there ever being even the smallest hint of any sexual tension between them. Contrary to every male fantasy, when two lady friends have a sleepover they seldom go to bed in sexy nighties with nothing underneath. They had always worn pajama bottoms and a tank top, their nightwear of choice, their long straight hair, Amy's natural blonde and Jane's jet black, down and if possible, carefully brushed. Sometimes they had even snuggled together during their sleep without it being remotely awkward. Sometimes Amy would wake up with Jane's very fit body draped over hers and her only thought would be to get a strand of errant hair away from her face.

Maybe it was the whiskey talking but all of a sudden, Amy yearned for a sleepover with her friend. This time, maybe she would stop and savor the feel of her weight over hers. A little dampness started to moisten her panties at the thought of it. She realized that she wasn't even fighting these thoughts anymore.

"Whoa, Janey!" Amy exclaimed looking at the mostly empty bottle of Scotch. "I think that you better pace yourself."

Jane smiled coyly. "Sorry. I adore Glenlivet. It's not like you haven't been downing every drink I've poured you!" She said as she bumped her shoulder against her friends.

Amy shivered at the contact. "Hey, stop trying to get me drunk. I was already really not sober when I came in here."

"Amy, I really do think I'm drunk. I must be incredibly, beyond belief super drunk. Like, I'm going to have the most epic hungover in the morning."

Amy frowned. "Why would you say that?"

Jane took a long, deep breath. "Because," she said, deliberately. "I think we should try the spell."