The Good Wife

Chapter One

"Let's go! Dig deep!" Jason told himself as he passed the nine-mile point. Just one more to go—for today. Running was one of his four biggest passions in life. He also loved his job more than most people. At least he thought that was the case based on the way most people talked about "work." For Jason, work was fun. He couldn't wait to get there and enjoyed almost minute of every day. He sometimes found himself marveling at how lucky he was and yet it wasn't luck that got him where he was. There was an incredible amount of hard work that resulted in a master's degree in computer science from The University of Washington in Seattle which had made it possible for him to get the job he so dearly loved. Jason Brennan owned his own computer start-up business based on a proprietary data-compression algorithm he developed in graduate school. That, in turn, gave him both the time and money he needed to spend with and on another of his loves, his wife of 5 years, Joan Campbell Brennan. But things weren't always this good. In fact, there was a long period of time when Jason wasn't sure their marriage would even last.

They met and started dating their senior year of high school. Because he felt like Joan was so far out of his league that he was thrilled just to go out with her, he never pushed the issue of sex. In fact, they'd never gone further than second base and even that had only happened a couple of times before he proposed. Otherwise, Joan was everything Jason could want in a woman. She was pretty, funny, smart, and popular. Jason, on the other hand, was shy and reserved but considered very cute in a nerdy sort of way by most of the other girls. His mother used to tell him that was because he had "eyes like a girl" which he found very offensive until he discovered something else he dearly loved—dressing in women's clothes. Like so many other crossdressers, Jason had battled with feelings about crossdressing which alternated between utter exhilaration and extreme guilt. He'd built up a modest wardrobe twice with money from his after-school job, only to throw it all away during periods of intense guilt. He later learned this secret buying of various items of clothing and jewelry and then suddenly throwing them all away was known as "purging." He honestly believed that marrying Joan right after high-school graduation would make all those urges go away so asked her to marry him at their graduation party and she said "yes." And it worked. His desire to crossdress went away—for about a year-and-a-half while he was an undergrad at the UW.

That's when those old familiar desires returned. Initially, he found himself once again looking at pretty girls not out of any sexual interest but to see what they were wearing. Anytime he saw a girl wearing something he liked it brought back those old familiar feelings of wanting not to be her but to wear what she was wearing. Soon he was "hawking" (slang for intensely observing) every hairstyle, every piece of jewelry, and every outfit any cute girl was wearing. All the time, Jason was making mental notes of what he liked, didn't like, and how things looked together.

After a few months, Jason realized that just looking wasn't enough. That's when he started taking a very personal interest in Joan's wardrobe. "Would that fit? Could I wear that and return it without her noticing?" Jason wasn't a huge risk taker but they were definitely on a budget and buying a lot of his own things would be tough. He knew he'd have to have a decent wig, breast forms, padded undergarments, and heels and he felt confident he could buy those one at a time without drawing any suspicion from Joan.

Thanks to his passion for distance running, Jason was a very small man with a runner's build. He was just five feet eight and weighed around 135lbs. That allowed him to fit into most of Joan's size eight dresses and skirts which he began wearing for the first time while she was away visiting family. Her parents had moved back to California the summer after she finished high school and because money wasn't an issue for them, they gladly paid to fly her down for a few days at a time two or three times a year. These breaks gave Jason the opportunity to indulge his passion and thanks to the plethora of internet videos on virtually any topic, he had also become very skilled at both makeup application and accessorizing. With the help of a few items, he was able to transform himself into what he thought was a very believable-looking woman. He knew from having surfed a ton of crossdressing sites and make-up videos that the ability to actually look like a woman in public without being discovered was called "passing" and from the thousands of photos he'd viewed, he knew that only a small percentage of men were actually able to look convincing as women.

As planned, Jason had amassed the essential one at time. Chief among them was a coffee-brown, shoulder length wig with wispy bangs. The otherwise straight hair curled under slightly at the bottom and framed his face perfectly. He also bought an undergarment which contained silicone pads to give him the ass and hips his slender frame lacked, a set of quality makeup brushes, and a pair of black, size-9, three-inch heels which fit him perfectly.

An honest assessment told him his best features were his small frame, what his mom had called "his girly eyes", high cheekbones, and full lips. His worst areas were his utterly flat butt, the absence of anything resembling hips, and the lean legs of a male runner. He compensated by wearing the padded undergarment which gave him both hips and a nice, round ass. The heels also worked wonders by making his calves look very shapely. His pleasing outward appearance aside, Jason knew there was more to passing that just looking convincing. Mannerisms and other non-verbal cues also played a huge role and these were things he worked on during these alone times. He spent most of his time practicing how to walk, sit, stand, and how to use his hands to gesture as he spoke or ate. The amount of subtle differences between men and women was daunting once one took notice of them. Making the new "you" become second nature was even more difficult because until they were actually a part of that new you, the old you could betray you at any time. In that case, no matter how great your "look" might be, you'd be "read" and outed in a heartbeat. At one level, that shouldn't matter but at another, Jason knew he wasn't ready for Joan to learn his deepest and dearest secret. Finally, even with the entire "package" down pat, speaking in public was an even greater challenge which Jason thought might not something he overcome. Jason paid a lot of attention to all these areas and in spite of his constant fears, his need to venture out forced him to leave the nest for at least a brief test run.

As of yet, Jason had been too afraid to even leave the house let alone go somewhere dressed in femme even though he thought he looked pretty darned convincing. However, without having actually tested the waters in public, Jason thought he might just be wishing himself passable rather than actually being passable. Then again, his deeply-grounded sense of reality told him his look was likely more than good enough and he desperately wanted to leave the house at some point. In order to get some feedback, he took a couple of selfies and posted them on a site where other people rated your photos as either being "hot" or "not." Jason's pictures of Allison, the name he'd long ago chosen for "her", not only got consistently rated "hot" but there were tons of comments from male raters saying things like, "Damn, girl! You look amazing! I'd do her!" and even a few more colorful, x-rated quips. All good news for Jason/Allison who was getting ready to pull the trigger, so to speak.

Chapter Two

Jason believed one of reasons that brought his desires back was that things in the bedroom had always been strained between him and his wife. As with many couples, there was a large disparity between them in terms of sexual needs. Jason would have loved to have sex every day of the week, if not more often, while Joan didn't seem to need sex at all. That seemed odd to Jason because when he was able to get her to make love with him—which varied from as "often" as once a week to as little as twice a month—she always had an orgasm. For the first year or so, he kept telling himself that she'd eventually come around and move closer toward his desired number of times a week. He just needed to be patient and loving. He had no idea why sex was so difficult for her, but the truth was it really was that hard. In fact, things had gotten worse over the last several years. By the time he started his master's program, their love life had hit an all-time low. For the last three months, Joan had found one reason after the other to avoid having sex with him altogether. Four years of tough sledding followed by a veritable drought made his love affair with cross dressing all the more delicious. It was his escape from the reality of life with Joan and the intense, non-stop competition in the lab at school. The only good news was that the new compression algorithm he'd been developing was looking very promising. If he could "smooth it out" it would allow huge files to be sent almost instantaneously with virtually no loss in signal. A patent on something like would mean...freedom...in every possible way.

The nadir of their relationship came one day while he was home studying. Jason never watched television unless it was the History Channel or a science program (or Ru Paul's Drag Race if Joan wasn't home.) He wasn't really listening but his ears picked up when he overheard the lead-in to an episode of "The Oprah Show" about women who don't want or need sex that Joan was watching. He never watched the show, but the topic caught his attention, so he stayed in the next room and listened while Joan watched. At one point, Oprah asked the audience how many women sitting there would be okay with NEVER having sex again. Jason stood up and peeked around the door jamb to see if anyone raised their hands. His assumption would be that virtually no one would. To his shock (and dismay) well over half the hands in the room went up! Even more distressing was hearing Joan say quietly, "I KNEW I wasn't the only one. I'm NOT weird. I'm NOT abnormal. I just don't NEED sex with a man."

Jason just stood there watching in stunned silence until Joan inexplicably turned around and was herself stunned to see Jason standing there. "How long have you been watching, honey?" she asked.

"Long enough to see the audience's response to Oprah's question and your response to theirs," he said sullenly. "Is that how you really feel, Joanie? You'd be happy to never have sex again?"

Joan was tearing up and reached for a nearby tissue. "I'm so sorry, honey. I didn't know you were standing there."

Jason told her, "The issue isn't that I was watching but what you said. I need to know if that's how you really feel even after all the time and effort we've put in to make things better."

"Better for whom, Jason?" Joan said softly. "I don't want to hurt you, but I can't change how I feel. I just don't have any need for sex. That doesn't mean I don't love you dearly. I do. It just means I can't meet your needs in this one area. I'm not trivializing the importance of sex for you. I just need you to understand it isn't something I need." She hesitated before adding, "Or...want." Joan was dealing with her own set of feelings which she couldn't yet verbalize. She knew it wasn't just her and sex. She actually did enjoy it. And it wasn't Jason because she really did love him. But sex with Jason just wasn't something she needed. Or again—wanted.

For the first time, divorce seemed to be the only choice left. Neither of them said the "D" word out loud but they'd been down this road so many times it now became the proverbial elephant in the room. Neither of them said much at all to the other for the next two days let alone discuss getting divorced. So when Joan told him she was going home for an extended visit (two full weeks) he wasn't the least bit upset. At least not until Joan's surprise return a day early.

Joan wasn't due to be home until Sunday afternoon so Jason had dressed up in her things each night she'd been gone. As with his school work, he was also a perfectionist when it came to makeup, accessories, and his choice of clothes. Each time he crossdressed, he worked even harder to perfect his look. Even after his first attempt, he was so thrilled with by the image he saw that it caused some internal confusion. Since then, he'd been painstakingly careful when it came to applying makeup. By now, he was quite literally blown away each time he finished by applying a glossy red lipstick. He was fully satisfied with his progress and now confident he was ready to go out for the first time.

By 6pm the Saturday evening before Joan's scheduled return, Jason had just completed that final, finish touch and thought to himself, "That's it! That is perfect! I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Earlier, he'd changed into his wife's black, long-sleeved sweater with a V-neck and gold-colored skirt with a thin black belt and gold buckle. He loved the outfit as much as his made up face. His mother was right. His eyes really did look like they belonged to a girl and once he added false eyelashes, liner, mascara, and two or three shades of eye shadow all perfectly blended together, the final result was stunning! Between the three-inch heels and the slightly shiny, nearly-nude stockings he wore, along with the help of some of Joan's jewelry and a pair of gold clip-on earrings, he was absolutely blown away at the image staring back at him in the large bedroom mirror.

Utterly pleased with his efforts, Jason decided he would go ahead and finally take a short drive around the neighborhood. It was already dark outside and with the help of the automatic garage door opener he could slip out and back in without anyone noticing. His heart was pounding so loud he thought it must sound like he had the base in a rap CD turned up full blast. He backed out of the garage and onto the street, hit "close" on the garage door opener and headed toward the downtown area of Seattle. He was only gone for about 15 minutes but he'd gotten up the nerve to get himself a cup of coffee. He wasn't ready to go inside yet so he decided to go through the drive-through window at one of the many local Starbucks and quietly ordered an almond latte. When the guy who took his order handed him the cup and change, he smiled and said, "Here you go, Ma'am," followed by, "You know, you're way too pretty to be all alone." Jason smiled back and quietly replied with a simple, "Thank you!" As he set down the drink, he noticed that there was a phone number written on the accompanying napkin below the handwritten name of "Caleb." His heart was pounding like a jackhammer and he had to pull into a parking spot for a few minutes in order to calm himself down. The last thing he needed was to get into an accident while out in drag for the first time ever.

"Not bad," he told himself once his breathing had returned to normal. "Not bad at all. At least not for a first step. But a step toward what?" is the question he asked himself as he pulled the car back into the garage. He tabled the answer to that it for later and chose instead to focus on the exhilaration of the moment. During the drive, he found himself unable to stop glancing alternatingly at the mirror and looking at his "girly eyes" and admiring his long, painted red nails. And he must have relived the Starbucks episode at least a dozen times in the last several minutes. As the garage door closed behind him, he took one last, long look at himself and noticed his cock was hard as a rock. He couldn't ever remember being so horny before and he was definitely going to release all of his load onto this pretty sweater he would then wash before Joan came home the next day.

As he opened the door into the kitchen from the garage, he couldn't wait to hear the sound of his heels clicking on the tile floor in the kitchen. It was a sound he anticipated with great impatience every time it was about to happen. He closed the door and had taken perhaps a dozen steps when he heard the door he'd just closed to the garage open. Panicked, Jason froze in place with his back to the door just as Joan stepped in and set down her bags. Jason stood there unable to move. Joan hadn't yet looked up yet so after dropping her things, she closed the door before turning around.

As she did, she let out a scream then yelled, "Who the HELL are YOU and what are you doing in my house?" Jason slowly turned around to face the music when Joan hissed, "You BITCH! Are you having an affair with my husband? Where the hell IS he?" Then her countenance changed as it hit her who this beautiful "woman" really was. It really did take her a few seconds to process what she was seeing. "Oh...my...God. Jason? What the hell is going on here?"

Completely befuddled and confused, Jason had no idea what to do or say. Before he could say a word, Joan held up her hand and said, "Don't say a word. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to discuss it. I don't care why you do this. I just want you OUT of my clothes—NOW!"

Nothing was said the rest of the evening and Jason instinctively knew to sleep on the couch.

For the next week, things went from bad to worse. They were not only not having sex, they weren't even kissing. Hell, they weren't even talking! Jason was at his wits end after all these months with NO sexual activity of any kind and now this. Before this incident, he'd gotten Joan to try counseling, had her hormone levels checked, and read a number of books to try and gently encourage her to say "yes" a little more often but to no avail. Then came the episode on Oprah. Now, Joan was unwilling to even discuss any of this with him.

Chapter Three

That Friday morning, Joan came downstairs to pour herself a cup of coffee. Out of the blue, she turned to Jason and said, "I'd like to discuss something with you tonight." Jason was convinced this was going to be Joan's final stand. She would announce that there was nothing wrong with her and that she just wasn't going to be pressured into sex. In fact, he was sure she would use his crossdressing to "prove" that HE was the one with the problem and that she would be filing for divorce. After all, how could any woman be expected to want to have sex with a—pervert?

Jason forced himself to block all of this out his mind. Today was the last of his finals for his MS in computer science. He'd already blown through the university's bachelor of science program and was now completing his master's degree exams. He'd been recruited by several companies as well as the federal government and he already knew he wanted to work for the FBI. He'd have to go through training in Quantico, Virginia, but he was assured he would be assigned to the Seattle field office if that's what he wanted. However, he was deeply concerned about Joan and his "secret." Would she say something during an interview as part of his background check? Was she capable of using that for revenge? His hope was that his final changes to the compression algorithm would bear fruit. If he could then just manage to convince someone to fund his startup, he wouldn't have to worry about Joan or sex or even money. He was so close and on the way home an idea hit him like a bolt of lightning. He made some notes on his iPad which he'd incorporate into lines of code later on after Joan's announcement.

After a long day of exams, Jason's mind was flooded with thoughts from divorce to algorithms to financial and sexual freedom. He just wanted all of this behind him.

He opened the door and walked into the kitchen of their modest apartment Friday evening. The lights were out except for candles set out in various parts of the room. Something from the oven smelled wonderful and Joan was wearing a dress he particularly loved—wearing. She hadn't done anything like this for at least four years so to say Jason was taken aback was an understatement.