they get distracted

The bedroom was only twenty feet away, but they never made it that far.

Deja stopped in the hallway, turned back to look at him with eyes that held pure hunger. The confidence radiating off her was intoxicating - nothing like Sarah's usual careful approach to intimacy. This was someone who knew exactly what she wanted and how to take it.

"Fuck the interview," she said, closing the distance between them in two strides. Her hands went to his belt immediately, fingers working the buckle with practiced efficiency. "I need you right now."

Tom's breath caught. "Deja, we don't have time—"

"Make time." She yanked his belt free, popped the button on his jeans. "You've been staring at my ass since I changed. I can feel how hard you are just from looking at me." Her hand slid into his pants, wrapping around his cock through his boxers, and Tom groaned. "Yeah, that's what I thought. So stop pretending you don't want this just as bad."

She wasn't wrong. Tom had been fighting arousal since the moment she'd transformed, guilt warring with desire as he tried to reconcile that this was his wife despite looking like a completely different woman. But Deja wasn't interested in his internal conflict. She dropped to her knees right there in the hallway, pulling his jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion.

"Jesus, Sarah—" Tom started, but she cut him off.

"Deja," she corrected, looking up at him with a wicked grin. "When I've got your dick in my hand, call me Deja." Then she took him in her mouth, and Tom's brain short-circuited.

It was familiar and completely alien at the same time. Sarah had always been tentative about oral, took her time, needed encouragement. Deja was enthusiastic and skilled, taking him deep without hesitation, her tongue working against the underside of his shaft in ways that made his knees weak. The dark skin of her face contrasted starkly with his pale cock, and the visual alone nearly undid him.

"Fuck," Tom gasped, his hands finding her short hair - so different from Sarah's longer locks. Deja hummed around him in approval, the vibration making him thrust involuntarily. She didn't pull back. Instead, she grabbed his ass and pulled him deeper, her throat opening to take all of him.

When she finally released him with an obscene pop, spit connected her lips to his cock. "Bedroom. Now. I want you to fuck me like you've been thinking about since I changed."

Tom didn't argue. He kicked off his jeans and followed her into the bedroom - and yeah, it was different from what he and Sarah shared. King-sized bed with expensive black sheets, modern furniture, clothes everywhere like she'd just thrown things around. The contrast between this life and his real one should have bothered him more. Instead, it just stoked the fire burning in his gut.

Deja was already stripping. The crop top came off first, revealing a black lace bralette that barely contained her breasts. They were different than Sarah's - smaller, perkier, nipples dark against the rich brown of her skin. Next came the shorts, peeled down legs that seemed to go on forever despite her relatively short stature. She kicked off the heels last, then stood there in just the bralette and a black thong, hands on her hips like she was daring him to just look and not touch.

"You gonna stand there all day, or you gonna come get this pussy?" she challenged.

Tom crossed the room in three steps, grabbed her by the hips, and kissed her hard. She tasted different, felt different against him - her body more compact and toned where Sarah had been softer. Deja bit his bottom lip hard enough to sting, then shoved him back onto the bed.

"I want to ride you first," she announced, climbing over him. "Want to see your face while you're inside me, see if you can handle how different I feel."

She wasn't wearing the bralette anymore - Tom hadn't even noticed her taking it off. Her breasts swayed above him as she positioned herself, one hand reaching down to guide him. The thong had disappeared too, and when she sank down onto his cock in one smooth motion, Tom groaned at the tight heat engulfing him.

"Oh fuck," Deja breathed, her head falling back. "That's good. That's so fucking good."

She started to move, rolling her hips in a rhythm that was hypnotic. Sarah had always been a little shy about being on top, needed encouragement, moved carefully. Deja rode him like she owned him, taking exactly what she wanted with complete confidence. Her hands braced on his chest, nails digging in as she picked up speed.

Tom's hands found her hips, then slid up to cup her breasts. The weight and feel of them was unfamiliar, but no less arousing. He thumbed her nipples and she gasped, clenching around him.

"You like this?" she panted, grinding down hard. "Like fucking someone else? Someone younger, tighter?" There was Sarah's voice underneath the challenge - asking if this was what he'd wanted, if the fantasy was living up to reality.

"I like fucking you," Tom managed, thrusting up to meet her movements. "Doesn't matter what you look like."

"Liar." But she was grinning, her pace increasing. "You've been fantasizing about this. About exotic girls, different races, someone who fucks like they're trying to break you." She leaned down, her lips at his ear. "Well here I am, baby. And I'm gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name."

The dirty talk was doing things to him. Sarah never talked like this - had always been quieter, more reserved. But Deja had no such inhibitions. She told him exactly how good his cock felt, how deep he was hitting, how she could feel him throbbing inside her. The words combined with the visual of this stranger who was his wife riding him frantically pushed Tom closer to the edge.

"Not yet," Deja said, somehow sensing how close he was. She pulled off him, ignoring his groan of protest. "On your knees. I want it from behind."

Tom scrambled to comply, and Deja positioned herself on all fours in front of him, back arched, ass in the air. The view was obscene and perfect - dark skin marked with lighter tan lines from a bikini he'd never seen her wear, the curve of her spine, the way she looked back at him over her shoulder with pure lust.

"Come on," she urged. "Fuck me. Stop being gentle - I'm not gonna break."

Tom gripped her hips and slammed into her, making her cry out. The angle was different, deeper, and Deja immediately started pushing back to meet his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by Deja's increasingly loud moans.

"Harder," she demanded. "Fuck, Tom, harder. I want to feel it tomorrow."

He gave her what she wanted, pounding into her with a **** he'd never used with Sarah. But this was what Deja wanted - what she was demanding - and something about her confidence and aggression unleashed something primal in him. His hands slid from her hips to her shoulders, using the leverage to pull her back onto his cock with each thrust.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," Deja gasped, one hand snaking down between her legs. Tom could feel her fingers working her clit, the added pressure making her clench around him rhythmically. "Don't stop, I'm close, I'm so fucking close—"

When she came, it was with a scream that probably carried to the neighbors - not the quiet gasps Sarah always tried to muffle, but full-throated and shameless. Her whole body tensed, inner walls spasming around Tom's cock, and that was all it took to push him over the edge too.

He came hard, burying himself as deep as he could, groaning her name - Deja, not Sarah, because in that moment that's who she was. His vision whited out for a second, pleasure rolling through him in waves that seemed to go on forever.

When he finally pulled out, both of them collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and breathing hard. Tom stared at the ceiling, trying to process what had just happened. He'd just had the most intense sex of his life with his wife who wasn't his wife, in a reality that wasn't real, and he couldn't decide if he felt amazing or horrible about it.

"Holy shit," Deja said after a minute, rolling to face him. There was Sarah in her eyes again - the warmth, the intimacy, the connection they'd built over years. "That was..."

"Yeah," Tom agreed.

"Different from how we usually are," she continued, propping herself up on one elbow. "But good different. Really good different." She traced patterns on his chest absently. "I think being Deja changed more than just how I look. The confidence, the aggression, the way I wanted it rough - that's her bleeding through into me."

"Is that okay?" Tom asked. "You said you had both sets of memories, both personalities. Does it feel like you're losing yourself?"

Deja considered this. "No. It feels like I'm more myself, actually. Like maybe Sarah was always holding back, being what she thought a wife should be. And now I don't have to." She kissed him softly, a contrast to the raw intensity from minutes before. "But I'm still me. Still your Sarah under all this. I still love you, even if the rest of the world thinks we're just fucking."

The reminder of their situation brought Tom back to reality. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand - they'd been at it for almost forty minutes. "The interview—"

"Is in an hour and fifteen," Deja finished. "We can make it if we hustle. Quick shower, get dressed, and you drive like you're in the Fast and Furious." She grinned. "Or we could say fuck it and stay here, see how many more times we can go before the coin recharges."

Tom laughed despite himself, despite the wrongness of everything, despite the fact that his marriage had been temporarily erased from existence. "You're terrible."

"You love it." Deja kissed him again, then slid out of bed. "Come on. Let's see if we can clean up quick enough. And Tom?" She looked back at him, naked and unselfconscious in a way Sarah never quite managed. "Thank you for this. For being willing to explore with me, even when it gets weird and scary. That's what makes this fun."

As Tom followed her to the shower, the coin in his discarded jeans calling to him from the hallway floor, he couldn't help but wonder how much weirder and scarier things could get before they finally decided to change her back.