Jon smiled. This was gonna be stupid. And weird. And mean. But the part of his mind yelling that out was small and indistinct, drowned out by the loud and horny streams of impulse you get from making reality altering wishes back-to-back.
And, like, he wished this would all fix itself in 48 hours. It’d be fine.
“I wish,” he said, careful to keep his word slow and graceful. “That Karyn was here, also turned into dazzlingly gorgeous, stupidly curvaceous MILF, and stuck wearing cursed clothes like mine.”
A quick breath.
“I wish she remembered her original self, as if she heard this wish. Except for one thing—she thinks we’re this way because of some magical bet. Oh, and she won’t realize that I’m extremely into this.”
Poof!
A flash of light, the second most stunning woman he’d ever seen, and the sound of her mewling in frustration.
“Can’t believe we’re going through with this.” The tone and cadence was absolutely Karen’s. But the voice… It was rich and silvery. The kind of high, feminine voice you could just fall asleep listening to. “I look like an actual pornstar—ow! Stupid clothes—Ow!!!”
And the appearance? Wow.
Karen’s new body had a good seven inches on Jon’s shortstack physique. Similarly goddess-shaped, with enormous, perky breasts and the sorta of hips that got hypnotists unemployed—but toned and athletic, in the way Karyn has always been. Her face was also her own, almost. If she was twenty years older and had tight, sculpted features, striking, lustrous eyes, and wide, kissable lips.
Her accoutrement was flattering in every way it needed to be.
Fluffy, golden hair bound into an over-the-shoulder braid. A summery blouse, knotted at the front to show off her muscled tummy and doing masterful work keeping her melon-sized breasts in line. Flowy, high waist pants; deep blue in color and just transparent enough to give the rare glimpse of the nicest legs you’ve ever seen. Her heels weren’t quite as tall as Jon’s, unfortunately, though still encouraged a rather… Distinct sway to her movements.
If the stone made Jon a milfy librarian, it turned Karen into a milfy beach babe. A very, very nice contrast, Jon decided.
“Karen, the conditions.” Their ‘bet’ probably had conditions, right? “You have to act more… You know…”
“Like I’m a horny milf. Right.” She flinched and gave a breathy moan, as her blouse twisted visibly tighter. “I mean. Like I’m a composed and oh-so mature adult woman.”
The blouse loosened.
Karen stuck her tongue out and marched towards his bed. Or, tried to–her waist pants turned the motion into a confident, hip-rolling saunter, her attempt at plopping down into a practiced flourish with one leg crossed over the other, foot pointed playfully outwards.
Jon sat at his desk chair. Same deal, though his cardigan-pencil-skirt-combo guided his steps to be more mincing and precise. It seemed their outfits had different personalities.
Gosh, this was hot.
“So, rewind,” he said. “Can we go over the terms one more time?”
Karyn rolled her eyes. “Dude, it’s a game of chicken, like I said.” A gesture to their mutually distracting, milfy forms. “We see who lasts longer, while taking turns adding rules that affect us both—speaking of, gimme. You had your fun with your bonkers clothes wish.”
Jon gulped. He wasn’t expecting there to be an extra risk to the fake bet he wished for. But at the same time…
So, so hot.
Without quite meaning to, Jon uncrossed and crossed his legs. He handed the stone with absolutely no hesitation.
Karyn smiled. “Alright. I wish…”
