Jon, if he understood the standards he'd set out for his own wishes, had to have the quickest voice in the world if he wanted the next wish to work.
While Jon had engaged in, to be frank, a task he'd never be caught dead doing as a male, he considered just what he liked about MILFs. It was, really, an esoteric, more philosophical question, but Jon had always considered there being two equal versions of an older woman. It was a porn addicts habit to imagine they were having a deep discussion by considering what type of woman they liked, but Jon had always considered it; ever since his first porn video viewed.
For one, Jon had always loved the sexually forward, quite controlling older woman. She knew what she wanted, and wasn't afraid to get it. To him, one of the hottest things in the world would be finding a woman who fit that exact, if specific, description. She'd certainly be quite the dominate woman to deal with, but he would love to be exactly like that nonetheless. Scratch finding, being said woman was what Jon imagined. Stuck as her, with her libido, her desires, her authority, her....The older woman with an "I make my lovers call me Mommy" about her.
But what about the exact opposite? The older woman who, while having children and being versed, if uncomfortable, regarding sex, was quite the angelic type. Oblivious, sometimes flashing others, sometimes popping out of her bra, other times bending to grab a pan to cook with and giving a perfect ass shot? Jon loved that caricature as well. Stuck as her, with her milky breasts, child-bearing hips, unconscious attraction. The older woman with a schoolgirl's innocence about her.
Stirring the lemonade, Jon pondered just which ideal he liked more....And for once, he was stumped. He knew the thought would inform his next wish. Yet he only wished he had more time before the two boys came running into his ho-....
Jon thought of two wishes, one just to help him, the other to make the scenario more fun.
"I wish I was an excellent domestic hostess, with all the requisite knowledge for such a task."
Poof!
For Jon's second act....
"I wish that, when around males, and/or females, that an older woman might find attractive realistically or even as a pornographic stereotype, I become incredibly unlucky and frequently embarrass myself, mostly due to clumsiness or plain old ignorance. These situations will always lead to, in some way, me being mistaken as a flirt, a tease, then neighborhood milf or just a ditz - but I will not know I am doing the action until well after the fact."
Poof!
Jon hadn't meant a wish that extreme! He wanted one that would last maybe, uh, till the encounter with these neighborhood boys went. Not necessarily one that would apply permanently! His would've been a simple, quite blunt, "I wish I was obliviously sexual." But this, this....soaked Jon's panties. It was so specific. So ensnaring. So obviously too much....
"Ms. Gibson?" Jimmy's voice questioned the air.
"We're done." Gerald's more firm voice followed after, and the door was shut. Shit. Jon was, until he could sneak off to the bathroom, stuck with these two.
"R-right! I have some lemonade and uhm, lemon meringue pie." Jon said. He was not a hostess! But he felt the confidence of one, with the knowledge required. Two plates of china for the boys, two knives, some napkins, ice in two glasses.
It was so easy!
"Sit, sit." Joan said to the boys as they stood somewhat awkwardly in the living room, the two boys more than happy to listen to the woman with a sweater that looked like it might tear.
After plating the fellas some pie, Jon sat down with them, happy to hear Jimmy's stories about school. Jon's heart fluttered at the sight of Jimmy. It was a purely maternal adoration of a boy she could tell would be a great man someday; for Gerald, the maternal adoration of children wasn't quite there, but something else might have be-...
"You aren't hungry, Ms. Gibson?" Gerald asked as he was given his second plate of the lemon dessert. His excuse to stare at the MILFs sizeable chest was dwarfed only by his desire to see her get up to cut the pie and witness her encased ass.
Jon shook his head. "G-goodness no! That'd go straight to the hips. I think I quite enough there already."
Even as he said the word's, Jon's body had begun to reach to give himself a slice; it wasn't a fair fight. His body was designed to be addicted to sweets, and the rationale part of his brain was being overridden by the clothes modus operandi. Relenting, Jon helped the college boy finish the pie, crumbs and cream unintentionally getting onto his sweater puppies.
"Goodness. I imagine you two have something better to do then just sit here and listen to an old hag talk." Joan said with a smile.
Gerald answered for both boys. "Of course not, Ms. Gibson!" It was a lie, a big fat lie, Jon knew it, they definitely could've been out mowing other lawns.
Jon's fork clattered onto the ground and he sighed. In the pencil skirt and with a big a chest, he couldn't simply just lean over and grab the fork. No, he had to get up, bend at the hip, grasp the fork, then get back into his seat. It didn't register in Jon's brain that he'd just given a perfect ass shot to Gerald and Jimmy.
"Do you need your pool cleaned, Ms. Gibson?" Jimmy asked, clearly happy to make money.
"Maybe tomorrow. I have to run, I have..." Jon's brain filled with a task. Gym. "An exercise class."
"Tomorrow it is!" Jimmy said.
"Here, take some lemonade for the road, I don't want you two's mother saying I was dehydrating you!" Joan's voice said, reaching for the lemonade jug. It was a mix of factor's, really, that made the jug spill - God may have been answering Gerald's prayers, Jon may have been too excited to eat the last slice of pie, or maybe he wasn't used to his loss of strength. Whatever the cause, Joan's eyes grew wide, attempting to stop the spill.
It was too little, too late, the lemonade having soaked the jeans Gerald wore; in his struggle to stop the spill, leaning over the table, Jon got cream all on his sweater.
"Oh goodness. I can't send you home like that!" Jon said with a blush on his face. It was that damn wish! He knew it. Taking Gerald's hand, he rushed the blushing boy to the washing and drying room. "You wait here, I'll give you a change of pants."
Jon was apprehensive giving away a pair of his very jeans, but still, he was more than happy to help with his mistake. Gerald was sitting on the dryer when he came back, still in the jeans.
"Here's a pair to change into. I'll wash these and give them to you tomorrow." Joan said with a blush on her face. Gerald, clearly embarrassed but also horny, began to undo his jeans. Jon's eyes locked onto his penis His hands did the talking for him, stripping off his cream covered sweater as Gerald's pants hit the ground; both enter the washer, and Jon bashfully ran to put on a new sweater.
His vagina was soaked form the excitement of the situation as he sent both boys off, his body having forced him to change into the same sweater, but a different hue. Promising to pay them for cleaning his pool tomorrow, Jon sighed in both exhaustion and excitement.
Now what was this about an exercise class!
Jon's mind rushed with the knowledge of what he'd just done. Right. First, he'd given both boys a perfect shot of his ass as he picked up his fork. Then, he'd spilled something on Gerald's pants, 'accidently'. Lastly, he'd stripped to his bra with Gerald, who was in his briefs. All of those situations definitely had given Gerald the wrong idea. He didn't want the boy to thin-...
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
It was the same door-to-door salesman knocking Jon had experienced before, when he first put on this cursed outfit. It was coming from his mother's room. Just what outfit was knocking this time? Like a bunch of demonic imps, the answer to Jon's question rushed across the floor, seizing on him like a bunch of mad men. They began to rip the very clothing that was cursed onto him off! Desperately, Jon squeaked out of a wish.
"I wish the magical clothes would cooperate when I need change, rather than destroy one another."
Poof!
The wish made the whole process less terrifying. Jon lost his pencil skirt, sweater, lingerie set and heels. Now, he was in an exercise outfit that would struggle to contain his sexuality. He was older, so he wasn't in booty shorts and a tube top, but he wasn't sure the result was any better. Ankle socks with some running shoes, a pair of sweatpants emblazoned with Jon's Highschool's logo, and a twist-front workout tee. Jon's mother's gym bag sat nearby like a little puppy. It awaited to be grabbed by him, but seemed to still count as 'his outfit'.
His old outfit had forced Jon to adhere to what it classified as feminine standards, and this one seemed to be no different. The sweatpants were as tight as leggings, and the way Jon stood made it evident that they were more than happy to show off his curves - the twist-top struggled with his chest, and perhaps from mercy, a sports-bra slipped underneath them and latched on. It supported his chest effortlessly. Even the sneakers were doing their part in making Jon very evidently a MILF on the way to workout.
Just one problem: he had no idea where in the hell his mother worked out, nor did he know any workouts.
"I wish I knew my mother's workout routine."
Poof!
Right. The gym was a short 5 minute drive away, and Jon was more than happy to go in - a nice looking building on the inside, Jon approached the front counter, his top making him reach into the gym bag and scan his mothers card. The bored looking attendant saying nothing.
Having to walk in the lockerroom was it's own kind of scary, but also it's own kind of exhilarating. Alone in the lockerroom, Jon relaxed, the unusually busy gym seeming not to fill the lockerroom. He knew his next wish.
"I wish I was in a woman's only class at this gym."
Poof!
Damnit. Jon had wanted to wish for a woman's only gym. While a woman, he had his only sexual desires, so gawking at women freely sounded like a dream come true. Of course, his own dumbass wish had fuck-.....his sweatpants magically slapping his ass made him stop his swearing fit. If only from the stone's mercy, Jon was the oldest woman in his class, his other wish not activating and making talk to everyone in the class. Just as the class full of young women, an older instructor, and Jon was about to start, he felt his enemy number one speak. He had wanted a wish that would make this class as easy as pie.
"I wish I was as unathletic as you might imagine a woman after multiple children would be, with my body not changing it's look. Furthermore, I wish my knowledge of physical activity in general was replaced with a 30-40 year old female who only worked out in Highschool's knowledge."
Poof!
If the wish was one thing, it was correct, and Joan's body was soaked in sweat by the end of the exercise. Time on a bike, struggling with weights, all around, it was a rough time. Hands on his hip's in a stereotypical tired mom pose, Jon gasped for air. And that was only part one.....
Jon was, put simply, happy when it was over. People left the class in varying states of exhaustion, some skipping out to clearly continue their workout; others were like Jon and simply sat on a mat, breathing heavily, their pants and sweats covered in sweat. It all felt decidedly...amazing. Like a prisoner, Jon was stuck with an unathletic body, and here was, dealing with the consequences a woman might. He was in love. Reaching into his bag, Jon looked around, actually pretty hungry for once. Shoot. He was no expert at working out, but he could go for a protein bar or something right now.
"I wish I had a snack right now."
Nothing happened. Damnittttttttttttttttt. Jon's sport's bra pinching his nipple made him cease that swearing and complaining. Right. He couldn't wish with other people around. Well, he had an unlimited credit card, he could go buy a snack bar. Getting up with a wobble in his thick legs, Jon went to the front, doing just that. Returning to continue resting, he promptly spilled said protein drink on his shirt. His nice white shirt murmured a complaint.
"Oh goodness!" Joan's voice said. Joan seemed to love that phrase. But the bright pink stuck to his shirt, and Jon was unable to remove it. Really, he didn't care, but....
"I wish I had a woman's sense of fashion faux pas, feeling incredibly embarrassed from stains and anything akin to that."
Poof!
Now he definitely cared. Fretting over the stain, Jon attracted attention, and soon enough, someone walked over. The instructor came over, shooing people out of the class, with a company hoodie. Offering it to Jon, he slipped it on over the shirt. The spill hidden, Jon rushed from the gym, enjoying his treat in the form of the sweet shake and even more delicious protein bar. New tasks populated his calendar, and Jon was grateful for the first one. He vowed that two spills in one day was quite enough.
New Task: Shower
New Task: Hidden Until You Shower
New Task: Hidden Until You Shower
Task: Evening - Attend PTA meeting
