She is nameless, faceless and entirely forgettable as her lover, not mine, fans the flames of burning desire already licking around the edges of her s...nity. Over and over she climaxes, head thrashing back and forth, hips bucking wildly, those hands clawing deep red lines down that lover’s back, and screaming out his name in abandon as disinterest settles over me and she slips from my consciousness. Perhaps I should be ashamed for indulging myself in this hedonistic fashion, perhaps not. I’ll. .When were you born? I ask her urgently.February 19, 1972. Same day as my aunt.You're... me, I say. You're the woman I would have been.Holy fuck.=-=-=I look downward, and see breasts beneath a shirt. I begin to cup them with my hands, only to have my fingers seize up and stop.Stop that! This is MY body! Now, who the hell are you?I'm... my name is...You can't be... a quick rush as something is exchanged. Jesus, you are me. I just got the weirdest rush of thoughts. They're like these brief shots. More

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