Once Linda heard that Zoe would be getting a ride to school, she quickly shovelled her cereal into her mouth, and scrambled to jump into the backseat. Even the awkwardness of having to listen to her dad have a "talk" with her bitch sister Richard beat taking the bus.
As she grabbed her backpack, she briefly wondered if she should have worn a bra that day, but dismissed the thought. Why would she want to deny any chick quick and easy access to her awesome chest? Sure, she was single now, but she was a senior. Girls would be lining up looking for a husband soon, and if she came off as too withdrawn, too unavailable, they might get the wrong idea. She'd had her eye on that babe Joe Eagon lately, the red-headed babe who always wore those tight jean-shorts. He'd be prime wife material, long legs, great hips, smooth chest...
Linda snapped out of it as she felt her dick stir in her boxers. She didn't want to get a boner in the car with her dad; she'd end up getting a "talk" too, which was the last thing she wanted.
Finally alone, Jon wasted no time looking for his magic wishing stone. Laser focused, he found that he was able to avoid slipping into any personality traits and behaviours that weren't his, but what he lost was the easy ability to move in his clothes. Once he had kicked off the three-inch heels his superimposed personality had slipped onto his feet, he could stand better. His dress, though, was form-fitting, which translated to tight, restricting his legs in ways he wasn't used to. Jon didn't want to try to find anything else to wear, just in case another distraction hit him and slid him down the road of Molly Homemaker again. He'd rather search.
And search he did. Every room, every nook, every cranny. He didn't care about the mess he was making. Once he found the rock, he'd wish himself out of whatever predicament he was in, and it would be someone else's problem.
He still didn't know what had happened, what his ill-performed wish had done, but he didn't like it. Being Zoe's wife? It wasn't something that had every entered into his fantasies. It was more like a nightmare! Not only was he married to his wife, but he was half woman!
He'd given her a blow-job!
And he'd swallowed!!!
Jon shivered at the memory as he searched. The master bedroom had been a bust, so had Linda's room. Richard's room was already a mess, so it had taken a bit more time to search, but he was confident that it wasn't there. Bathrooms, living room, kitchen, even the garage were torn apart by the frantic, crossdressed, semi-woman. Finally, exhausted, Jon collapsed onto the couch. He was discouraged to say the least. He'd searched for at least two solid hours, if not more, and had come up with nothing at all. He needed a break.
Letting his head rest on the back of the couch, he allowed his mind to drift, if only for a moment.
Jon's head snapped up. He looked around the room. Oh this wouldn't do at all!
He couldn't believe the state he'd left the house in. If Zoe came home, she'd be extremely upset! Jon's husband wasn't a cruel man, but if she needed to, she wouldn't be afraid to put Jon over her knee and give her a swat! The home was Jon's responsibility to care for, not destroy!
Jumping to his feet, Jon quickly located his discarded heels (why had he kicked them off, anyway? He could barely do anything without wearing a pair of heels!) slipped on an apron, and set to cleaning. Hard cleaning.
Every misplaced item was picked up. Every book was back on the shelf. Every dish was cleaned and placed in the cupboard. Every article of clothing was folded, hung, tucked away. Every bed was made. Every curtain was straightened.
When he was certain the house was tidy, he continued. He cleaned the toilet. He scrubbed the tub. On his hands and knees he made the floors shine. He took the rugs outside and gave them a beating. He swept the garage, then mopped the concrete of any oil drips. He dusted, cleaned windows, disinfected, shined, and polished.
When he was done, the house had never looked better. He was even more exhausted than he was before! So exhausted that he could barely concentrate! Jon craved a nap, but he knew there wasn't time. All that silly searching had wasted too much of it. Jon could still accomplish all that needed to be done, but he'd have to hurry.
He flitted into the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea while he ate a small salad (left-over from last night's dinner). Then he took the roast he'd been marinating in the fridge, and put it in the pre-heated oven. After chopping the carrots and peeling the potatoes, Jon, confident that dinner would be ready in time, pranced out of the room and toward his bedroom.
A glance at the alarm clock told him that he was catching up. That didn't mean there was time to dawdle, though. All his frantic work had gotten him dirty and sweaty, and a girl can't have his husband coming home to that. It was a good wife's job to look his best and be as fresh as he could be for his husband at all times. Again, Jon stripped and showered, this time quickly. He re-razored his face (a shadow had begun to appear), then turned off the water.
A towel, a spray of perfume in some strategic places, then clothes. He knew that it was Thursday, and Zoe was often frisky on Thursdays, so Jon got adventurous. He pulled up a pair of red stockings, then a garter belt to hold them up. His panties, a lace red pair, were crotchless. He'd never worn them before, having bought them on a whim online, but felt that after he'd almost abandoned his duties, he owed it to Zoe.
Jon didn't want his kids knowing what he was wearing, so he put on a black dress, one that showed off his excellent behind for Zoe, but also was long enough to not give any hints to his kids.
Then he sat down at the make-up table. Red glossy lips, smoky eyelids, black eye liner. He looked beautiful, just as his husband wanted him to be. He closed his eyes and remembered their intimate moments that morning, how proud he'd felt as he'd wrapped his lips around her shaft, how excited he'd been to swallow her semen. If only he'd had time to put on lipstick then, maybe Zoe would have gone to work with a mark on her penis, a reminder of what a good and dutiful wife she had.
Jon looked over at the clock. With a smile, he realized that he'd done it. He'd gotten ready, he'd cleaned the house, he'd prepared dinner. All with time to spare. Sure, the table still needed to be set, and there was still laundry to be done, but he could get Richard to do some of those things when he got home. Jon had to start preparing that girl for being a wife, since she only had a couple years until high school finished.
Taking a deep breath, feeling the calm of a job well done wash over him, Jon closed his eyes and relaxed. As his mind drifted, he momentarily asked himself, what was it that had gotten him in such a tizzy this morning? He couldn't quite remember... if only he could focus... focus...
FOCUS
Jon's eyes snapped open and he stared at his reflection in the mirror.
"What the?!" he exclaimed, as he heard the front door open.
"Hi mom! We're home!"
