This was it. Spring break. I’d told my parents that I’d be road tripping with my friends. But that was a lie, of course.
I was in my room at home, packing for the week. Packing to be her.
Dad would be at work, leaving Mom and me all alone. It would be the longest I’d ever possessed her. I didn’t know if I’d even come back out.
Part of me wanted to disappear into her completely.
I left a note on the bed that said: “Back soon! Love you!” Then I took a deep breath, walked over to Mom’s side of the house, and waited for her to take a nap.
My heart was pounding in anticipation. I was so close.
When she finally went down for an afternoon catnap, I slipped into her skin and surrendered to her.
This time, I didn’t try to hold on to any part of me. I let myself fall away, letting my consciousness dissolve into hers like sugar in water.
The familiar rush of her thoughts and feelings surged over me. Her love for my father overtook me, powerful and raw, but I stayed where I was, drowning in it willingly.
When Dad got home that night, I was waiting for him. She was waiting for him.
I met him at the door wearing nothing but a robe. It slipped off when he kissed me. We didn’t make it to the bedroom.
As he pushed me up against the wall and entered me right there in the living room, his hands rough and hungry on my skin, I felt Mom’s emotions swelling inside of me with every thrust. Her passion left no room for anything else.
My own feelings were quickly buried beneath them. Buried and forgotten.
Words spilled from my lips—her lips—before I even knew what I was saying.
“I love you,” I heard myself moan into his neck, breathless and full of need.
And I did. I loved him with her love, completely.
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