Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was how much control I had over this guy. Maybe it was Zoey’s body's own desires. But I found myself wanting to see where this would go.
He looked surprised but thrilled at my sudden forwardness. I kissed him again.
"Oh my God," he said breathlessly between kisses, "Let's go to bed."
I hesitated, my pulse wild with a mix of fear and exhilaration.
Could I really go through with it?
Would it be that bad?
I’d already tried her body in every other way. Wasn’t this the next thing to do?
Dan turned and led me towards the bedroom, pulling me along with unexpected eagerness. Once inside, his hands were all over Zoey’s body, tentative at first, then growing bolder.
Holy shit. I was actually going to do this.
I let him take off my shirt, let him kiss down my neck as he unhooked my bra.
I wondered if this was how she did it—how she touched him and moved against him. I gave into the curiosity, into the overwhelming strangeness that enveloped us both as we tumbled onto the bed together. A chaotic mix of want and disbelief surged through me.
He fumbled with the clasp of my jeans, tugging them down until Zoey's body was bare against his. I let my hands explore him like I imagined she would, traced the contours of his back and pulled him closer.
He moved above me, and for a moment, all I could focus on was the reality of what was happening—the feeling of Dan’s weight on this unfamiliar body, the way he groaned as he kissed down my chest.
Then he was inside me.
I gasped.
What had I gotten myself into? Was it too late to stop? Was this too much? Too weird?
I bit my lip and tried to keep myself from laughing—from the sheer absurdity of it all, from the ridiculous fact that I was actually sleeping with Dan. With the man who thought he was fucking his wife but was really fucking me.
But then something changed. Zoey's body responded in ways that took me off guard. The sensation swelled beyond anything I'd imagined, heightened by every move Dan made, every breathless sound he whispered in my ear.
“Zoey,” he moaned, “you feel so amazing.”
He kissed Zoey’s neck again. He didn’t see the shock and surprise on my face. He didn’t see the way I strained to hold back my pleasure.
I wasn’t used to this body. I wasn’t used to this sensitivity.
Was this really how it felt for women? Or was it just how it felt for Zoey—how it felt for me?
Every thrust sent waves of confusion and pleasure coursing through me. I felt my body responding instinctively, crumbling beneath Dan’s touch as he worked his way deeper into the rhythm we created together.
“I’m so close,” he squeaked after a while.
I found myself clinging to Dan, my fingers threading through his hair as I gasped for breath, “Harder…”
“God,” he groaned, “I can’t hold on much longer.”
“Me neither,” I whispered back, any hesitation evaporating under the heat of the moment.
I clutched at him desperately, urging him on, feeling Zoey's body pulse with need. It was so different yet achingly familiar.
With one final push, Dan stiffened, his breath hitching as he reached his peak. A wave of heat surged through me as I felt him release inside, the raw intimacy of the moment overwhelming my senses.
I cried out softly, echoing his pleasure as my body responded in kind. The waves crashed over me, each push and pull igniting something deep within me.
I lay there panting. What had I just done? With him? With Dan? I had become the woman whose life I had so desperately wanted to escape.
What had I become?
Dan rolled off me, his breath still heavy and satisfied, completely unaware of the turmoil raging inside my head. He wrapped an arm around Zoey’s waist, pulling me close as he nuzzled into my neck.
“God, that was incredible,” he murmured, sending shivers down my spine.
“Yeah,” I replied hoarsely, my throat dry from more than just the aftermath of physical exertion, “It was...something.”
Dan shifted closer, pulling my body under his. He brushed his lips against mine as if tasting the sweetness of my surrender. He kissed me deeply, the warmth of the moment pressing down like a weight I could hardly bear. I clung to him, playing the part of a woman in love, trying to ignore the desperate voice in my head screaming out in protest.
Zoey's desires clouded my own, as if whispering it was okay to be this weak. He had no idea. No idea who I really was. No idea how trapped he made me feel.
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