Abby sat on the bed, watching James as he got undressed for the night. He had shed the blouse and was wearing only a bra now.
This was particularly awkward given the size of their mother’s breasts, which had always been quite ample for her otherwise small frame.
"This is so insane!" Abby remarked as she drank in the sight of James grappling with her body.
He tugged at the bra with frustration.
“Do we have to sleep here?” James asked, eyeing the bed they’d both been conceived in.
“Well, there’s nowhere else,” Abby replied with a shrug, “unless you want to sleep on the couch.”
James hesitated, weighing his options, then sighed in defeat.
“Fine,” he muttered, “Can you help me with this thing?”
With a smirk that was only slightly sympathetic, Abby got up and undid the bra with an expert flick of her fingers.
“Thanks,” James muttered, slipping it off.
James gasped and grabbed Abby’s arm, “OH MY GOD.”
“What?” Abby yelped, “What is it?”
“Mom’s chest!” James exclaimed, “I have Mom’s chest!”
They both stared at his exposed bare skin in exaggerated silence, eyes wide. Abby started laughing so suddenly it was almost a snort, doubling over while James clutched a pillow to his chest like a life preserver.
“Oh my God. It’s not funny, Abby!”
“It’s the funniest thing ever!” Abby cackled.
James slowly lowered the pillow. His hands hovered over the mounds.
He shook his head, resigned, then let out a strangled little laugh, “Should I…?”
“Why not?” Abby snickered, “You’re her.”
James hesitated for a long moment, then tentatively reached down and poked one of them. It bounced under his finger like a rubbery balloon, and his eyes went very wide. He poked it again, and this time he made a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. He glanced at Abby, who was watching him with unabashed amusement, and it was like she was daring him to react.
Then, feeling emboldened, he cupped both breasts with his hands and bounced them experimentally. The sensation was bizarre—the weight, the softness, the way they moved. It was like handling water balloons attached to his chest.
"This is so weird," he whispered, a mix of horror and fascination in his voice.
Abby fell back on the bed, clutching her stomach as she laughed, "Your face! Oh my God, your face!"
James dropped his hands immediately, his cheeks burning, "Stop laughing! This isn't funny! I have to live with these things for two months!"
"Welcome to womanhood," Abby said, wiping tears from her eyes, "Now you know what I've been dealing with since puberty."
"Yeah, but these are Mom's," James glared, a smile creeping onto his face despite himself.
“Mom has an amazing body if you hadn’t noticed,” Abby said, “You’re lucky.”
James gave her a long-suffering look, “I’m scarred for life.”
He pulled off her jeans and crawled beneath the covers, trying not to think about how weird it was to be in this bed, in this house, in this body. Abby joined him, and for a moment they lay there in a kind of stunned camaraderie.
“Hi, honey,” Abby teased, throwing an arm around James.
He groaned, unable to hide the reluctant amusement in his voice, "Hi, dear."
Then Abby leaned in and kissed him again.
James gawked at her, scandalized, "Abby! Seriously?"
Abby cracked up, "What? No one's watching. Just making it convincing."
No one’s watching. James thought about this as he lay there, staring at the ceiling. No one would know they weren’t really their parents. They could do whatever they wanted for two whole months.
"What are you thinking?" Abby asked, catching the mischievous glint in his eye.
James leaned in and kissed her back. Longer this time.
The moment James pulled away, his eyes widened with horror at what he'd just done. Abby stared back at him, equally stunned, before bursting into nervous laughter.
"I can't believe we just did that!" she whispered, her voice carrying their father's deep timbre.
"That was..." James trailed off, feeling his mother's lips tingling strangely, "That was weird."
"Really weird," Abby agreed.
But then she returned the kiss.
"This is messed up," he whispered, yet he didn't move away, “My wife would kill me…”
Abby nodded, her father's Adam's apple bobbing, "Totally messed up. But… how would anyone ever find out?"
Neither of them seemed able to tear their eyes away from each other. The forbidden nature of what they were doing hung in the air between them, electric and dangerous.
"This doesn't feel like... us," Abby reasoned, her voice hushed.
"Yeah. Like we're just... pretending," James whispered, swallowing hard.
Another kiss, deeper this time.
They pulled apart, both breathing heavily.
"We should stop," James said, though his voice lacked conviction.
"Definitely," Abby agreed.
But she clasped her hand around her mother’s naked breast. James flinched at the unexpected touch, a sharp intake of breath echoing between them.
Her lips brushed against the smoothness of her mother’s naked shoulder, and she felt James inhale sharply, a mixture of surprise and anticipation. She moved lower.
"We're not... we're not actually related right now," Abby whispered, her rationalization hanging in the air.
Her mouth was dangerously close to his chest now, hovering above one of his nipples. Then her lips lowered, daring them both, and James’s mouth fell open in shock.
"Oh my God," James gasped, his voice coming out as a feminine moan that shocked them both.
She kept sucking, her hand sliding up along James's mother's thigh as she did. James squirmed beneath her, torn between disgust and a new, unsettling pleasure that coursed through his borrowed body.
"Abby, wait," James panted, pushing her away slightly.
He stared at her for a moment before collecting himself.
No one’s watching.
Something shifted in him, and he cracked a smile. One of their mother’s signature smiles.
“Babe,” he started in a voice lilting and feminine, “I thought I told you to call me Monica.”
A slow grin spread across Abby’s face. James marveled at how completely she was becoming their father, how she was getting a thrill out of this, and how, disturbingly, he was too.
“Whatever you say,” Abby whispered, “Monica.”
She rolled onto James, pinning him to the bed with a possessive eagerness that was both familiar and entirely new. James felt the weight of Abby’s body pressing him down, and he realized, crazily, that he was actually enjoying it.
“This is insane!” he gasped, feeling Abby's stubbly jaw scratch against his cheek.
Abby laughed softly, “I know.”
She kissed him again, her hands growing bolder as they explored his mother's soft curves. James felt himself relax, giving in to the storm of sensations that swept over him.
James found himself gasping, his voice feminine and breathless, “Paul!”
He was Monica, and he had a husband, and no one was watching.
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