Time to get to know the Missus

Amanda, as she agreed to be called for now, had given Jack two gifts that day. Well three if you count each breast as a separate gift. But besides he newly fantastic rack, she had told him to hire her on as a 'Senior Presidential Advisor.' He wouldn't have to go through those assholes at congress to get her on his staff, and after all his years as Julia, he trusted her to take care of things. That meant he had the rest of the day off.

While Amanda started implementing the start of the sweeping changes she and Jack started to discuss after the meeting, she didn't need his help for most of that. She knew Jack Mansfield's strengths and weaknesses. She understood he would probably be too distracted to be much help anyways. That's why the smartest human in the world had given Jack a sticker to use, though leaving nothing to chance, she had made sure to fill it in for him.

Better to leave nothing to chance.

So now Jack was sitting on a couch in Yellow Oval Room. The old Jack had always hated this room. His wife had far more appreciation for fancy shit like this than he did. Like any good southern woman she loved to entertain and show off. She had charmed the public as much as he had.

Everyone wanted to make him out to be this perfect American man, with his gorgeous wife Virginia Mansfield (née Pottsfield), and their three children. A perfect family. But he and his wife barely talked anymore. She was a stuck-up prissy rich girl whose rich daddy Moses Pottsfield had bought him his first election, and that woman had held it over him this whole time.

The old him had described it as if a lemon meringue threw up inside a Jane Austen novel. The new Jack didn't mind it as much. One of the reasons he'd always hated the old Jack Mansfield when he was Julia was that the old president had been blatantly afraid of anything overly intellectual. The new Jack didn't have that handicap, and better understood the subtle design flourishes in the room, and cultural context of the design as a whole.

He had been waiting for fifteen minutes. Longer than he normally liked to wait, but the Julia identity he remembered having that was already influencing this new version of his personality told him not to get his panties in a twist.

Jack had to laugh at that. He really was wearing panties now. And dammit if the lacey thing wasn't comfier than a silk cushion fulla goose feathers.

Virginia Mansfield didn't know why Jack's people had been so insisted on her meeting her husband now. She didn't hate the man. She wasn't that sort of First Lady. However he could be so tiresome, and he always wanted something from her.

Everyone had always wanted something from Virginia, though. Her mother, Gwyneth Pottsfield had been the one to drag her around beauty pageants he entire childhood. Virginia had her first personal trainer and nutritionist at the age of seven. An 'upside' of her father being the third largest distributor of natural gasses in the United states. Over the years her body had been sculpted (all naturally despite what some of the gossip rags claimed), into an All-American beauty. Long toned legs, long think chestnut hair, always styled to perfection. Just enough curves to keep the boys interested, and not so skinny that women called her a bitch. Even her mannerisms had been crafted to perfection, a demurely feminine gait, a girlish giggle she had been made to practice since she was thirteen, and immaculate posture.

Virginia's mother had been the one to mold her, but her daddy's hand was in it all. The scion of a business empire, he had never successfully made his way into the political sphere despite three failed attempts at a seat in the House. When his only children had been born girls (to his disappointment) he had decided that they should marry politicians, rather than attempt to run themselves. Her whole childhood her parents had drilled into her head their dream of having a daughter as the First Lady. A daughter whose beauty would entrance the nation, whose elegance would charm foreign diplomats, and whose intellect would help guide whatever rube her daddy approved of.

There had been other boys before Virginia met Jack in college. A high school sweetheart, a quarterback with blue eyes and blonde hair who was always a sweetheart. But his dreams were to go pro, and he wouldn't last a week in law school. When she brought him home her parents had smiled and served him the Veal Osso Buco that their Italian chef made, but after dinner her daddy told her, in no uncertain terms, that this was just a high school fling. She was going off to Princeton and couldn't be distracted by a boy who would never win anything that didn't involve throwing a ball.

Virginia's deepest secret was that the only reason she dated Jack in the first place was to upset Daddy. Freshman year, he was in half her classes, and his grades were terrible. But he had been so hot. She couldn't exactly remember what he had looked like back then at this moment walking down the hallways of the White House residence, but she remembered that she, like half their graduating year had thought he was the hottest boy in the school. He pretty much instantly joined a frat, and only half the time ever attended classes. His grades were abysmal, and his family was dirt poor. As queen-bee of the girls of their year, she quickly claimed him. Thinking it would be a fun fling that would infuriate Daddy.

When she brought him home to her parents though, she hadn't expected them to quite literally welcome him with open arms. Both her mama and daddy had seen his charisma, and realized his salt-of-the-earth background was an asset. He already knew how to captivate an audience. With Daddy's money, he had rocketed his way through the political world.

For a time it had all been such a dream for Virginia. She really did care for him. Despite at the moment having no idea what he looked like she always found him attractive. He could be a misogynist pig, but he never treated her poorly. He never outright cheated on her, though he did sometimes get handsy with staffers. Hadn't he? That wasn't as clear.

As a father, he was shockingly present in the lives of his children. Two boys and a girl, their eldest, Jeremy, was only seven. Whenever he had time he would play with them. Something not even the press knew about.

Though the fire of their initial passion was dying down, he'd always been an adequate lover. Now though, she and her husband viewed each other more as partners moving toward a shared goal, and less as a romantic pair. She got wielded the power of her station, and realized it was far less limited than she had initially thought. Senators fought for the chance to get a photo-op with her. That's how she got Daddy all those natural gas subsidies written into the latest Appropriations Bill. She befriended that woman from the Japanese delegation, and helped her husband get them to drop some import tariffs. Today she was working on an education reform project. Finally, she was going to put those pesky unions, that daddy had always said were sucking the life and money out of the U.S. school system, in their place.

But she couldn't because Jack needed her for something in the Yellow Oval Room. When she and her security detail finally got there she paused. Took a deep breath in, trying to release all that negativity mama said made her face break out into those nasty pimples, and exhaled. She put a gentle smile on her face.

"You can stay out here Barbara, I think my husband wants to see me in private for a bit." Virginia said as she opened the door.

When Virginia walked into the room Jack couldn't help but whistle. Damn that woman was fine. Now that he was the Julia Summer's interpretation of Jack Mansfield, he couldn't help but think of her as part of her father's environmentally disastrous empire that was for everything the former identity of this body was against, but he realized now that maybe there were some things that twenty-five year-old Julia Summer's didn't understand. Like just how fine Virginia Mansfield's titties looked in that blue scoop-necked dress. Or how firm that ass looked when she wore her four-inch Louboutin's. Maybe Julia had been a bit jealous.

Virginia usually hated the way Jack would objectify her, but for a moment she was too stunned to say anything.

There he was, sitting like he always did, on leg crossed over another in his pencil skirt, a big goofy entitled smirk on his face, his long black curly hair flowing down past his shoulder blades and tickling the tops of his perky breasts. She realized she'd always been jealous of how a man could look so young, and how his tits could stay so pert on their own. For a white man, she'd always found it so hot how shiny his teeth looked against his smooth black skin. Maybe she'd always resented the fact that even though he had a vagina and uterus just like her, as the man of the house he'd never had to be the one to give birth.

And yet... there was something about him. An energy. An enthusiasm she hadn't seen on his face for ages. Maybe that's why the forty-year-old looked as vibrant as he had when they were in college. But for once she didn't mind oggling him right back.

"What do you want Jack?" Virginia said, trying to sound annoyed, even as her own arousal and excitement grew to a flush in her face.

"Well I just hired the smartest human being on the planet, and right now she is getting to work on whipping my staff of stick-up-the-ass Ivy League pencil pushers into shape. We've got a plan to kick this administration into overdrive, and I have the evening off. I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather spend it with than you. I know you had that big meeting about education reform, and it was selfish of me to take you away from that, but dammit, I wanted to see my wife. Now sit that fine ass down next me woman. Because damn all that Pilates you're doing is working. Now, I'm not tryin' to objectify you, or anything. I just haven't been appreciative of all the work you do, both to keep yourself looking fine as hell, and to help me govern. I wanted a chance to tell you that. We're whipping this whole White House into a new and better shape, and that starts with me honey." Jack said.

Virginia was speechless. He still sounded like Jack. He still used the same homespun vernacular that her daddy always laughed at behind his back (even if it was part of his appeal to what daddy called the 'average voter' with derision). The voice had the same accent, and the same dusky alto, that made all the women swoon. But she noticed his grammar was a little better. And he was actually appreciating her. Noticing her.

Her flush grew.

Virginia sat down next to him. Entranced.

She had no idea what he would do next, but if it was more like this, she couldn't wait to see.