Lookalike GF and Mother. Uh oh.

Stefanie looked startled by my uncharacteristic candour and then began to softly cry. Is there anything that can make a guy feel worse? Especially at that age?

"Look, I said I was sorry. I am."

Between sobs, "Why didn't you tell me this at the beginning? We could have worked through it?"

Questions that no guy ever wants to hear, much less answer. An honest reply might be:

"Because I don't like uncomfortable conversations. Because I enjoyed your company and was flattered by your attention. Because I didn't want to think ahead. Although I never thought it through, I must have sported a vague hope that by some ill-defined, unarticulated, barely-conceived miracle, there wouldn't be a problem. In short, I'm 18 and I'm an immature jerk, if you'll pardon the redundancy."

What I came out with:

"I guess I should have. But it was kind of embarrassing. And I didn't think it would come to this."

"Well what did you think it would come to?" More sobs.

I just shook my head and repeated that I was sorry.

"You'd better leave."

We didn't speak for a few days. I felt worse knowing that she had her room to herself. At some point I would have called but near the end of the week she beat me to it.

"Stefan, can you come over for a coffee?"

I knew that coffee meant talk. But it had to be.

She started. "Stefan, don't you think we can work this out?"

I'd wondered that myself. But I was unwilling to risk more nights of humiliation to find out. "I don't think so Stefanie. I think we're better off as friends."

"That's not going to be possible."

"Huh?"

"I've fallen for you. There's no going back."

"That's why I didn't want to get involved in the first place."

"But you should have told me why not. The real reason why not. As it is, we can't simply revert to 'just friends'. I know I can't."

"Well then...?'

"We have to stop seeing each other. That's the only way I'll be able to get over you."

I felt a chill but knew she was making sense. Still, being broken up with is no fun, even if you want it.

'I'm sorry to hear that Stefanie, very sorry, but I understand." She started crying again and I beat a retreat.

The Rest of the Semester

Stefanie switched out of the second part of the History course so we no longer had classes together. Library nights were never resumed. I'd see her occasionally around campus but we never spoke. So far as I could tell, she hadn't started dating anyone else, nor had I. Though I did have one drunken hook-up during a debauched mid-term week at Marvin's cabin.

It had now been four months since we last spoke and it was exam time. So I was surprised to get her call.

"Hi Stefan." There were a few strained pleasantries until she got to the point.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"No. Are you?"

"No. We'll soon be going home for the summer but can we talk one more time? I promise I won't lay any heavy drama on you."

"We're talking now."

"No, this has to be in person."

"An in-person drama-free talk? I admit I'm curious."

"OK, tomorrow afternoon at the coffee shop?"

"See you there."

A big, crowded, noisy public place seemed safe enough for A Talk. And its noisiness meant no one else could hear what you were saying. Sounded ideal just in case drama made a guest appearance.

I got there first and was pleasantly surprised to see her. She was looking good and I didn't even think of my mother. At least not at first. We exchanged greetings and griped about our exams until she came to the allegedly non-dramatic point.

"Stefan, this is hard for me to say." And damned harder to hear I thought.

"I haven't really gotten over you. What we had, or were likely to have had, seemed so promising. If you have any feelings for me, however compromised because of, well, you know, could you promise me one thing?"

Is there anyone who relishes signing up to a blind promise? I don't even like the fully transparent, unadorned variety.

"Well what is it?"

"This will only make sense if you think there's any chance for us."

If this was her version of no drama, I could imagine Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf scenes in fraughter times. But I remembered the stir when I saw her so played along to see where it led.

"Maybe it's worth a try. What do you have in mind?"

"Can you promise me that over the summer you'll see a counsellor or professional to see if you can work through this...thing.?"

"A shrink?"

"It needn't be a psychiatrist. There are different types and it might be easier speaking to someone like that instead of me. I guess I'm hoping you think I'm worth it."

"Geez Stefanie, I've never done anything like that."

"Well if you can't promise you'll do it, can you promise to consider it?"

"That I can do."

"Thanks so much Stefan." It was hard to tell if she was verging on laughing or crying; maybe a bit of both.

We chatted a while longer and she got up to go first. "One more exam tomorrow then I'm off the day after back home. Thanks so much for this." She kissed me on the cheek. "Write me."

I was reeling. Maybe things could be back on with Stefanie. But a shrink? Just the thought made me feel like Indiana Jones confronted with snakes. I'd think about that tomorrow.

Summer With Mother

Mom knew that Stefanie and I had broken up. She pried that out of me shortly after it happened. To my surprise she seldom brought it up, though when she first got me to reveal it, she said how disappointed she was.

She had offered to pick me up at school but I preferred the train. Something about seeming juvenile that my mother would pick me up and possibly the several hour car ride with her.

She was very happy to see me when I knocked on the door. She even gave me a full-on kiss on the lips. Now, some aunts, uncles and cousins on her side of the family customarily greeted family, including us, like this. But we'd never adopted the habit until, apparently, now. And the kiss was slightly more vigorous than the aunt and cousin variety.

"Glad to see you too Mom. What's with the kiss?"

"Oh, I'd been to see your Aunt Rose and I must still be under her influence. Besides, I'm so happy you're home." And she gave me another kiss, lighter and briefer this time.

I had a summer job in an insurance office; the same job I'd had the previous summer. It would start in a week so I helped out with some chores and slept in every day. Nothing much had changed except my mother was more touchy-feely. Like in the first week I was peeling potatoes at the sink and she walked by and slapped my ass.

"Hey!" She said nothing but just smiled. When we watched TV at night she'd always sit right beside me even though there was plenty of space. I put it down to her having missed me.

I wondered about her clothing too. She'd always been casual around the house and maybe I hadn't paid much attention before. But I noticed she seldom wore a bra, her shorts looked shorter and her blouses often seemed to have a button or two undone. As I said, it might have been nothing and after Stefanie I was just paying more attention.

Speaking of Stefanie, I knew the topic would come up at some point. It did, in the first Saturday I was back. We'd been watching a movie and drinking beer (me) and wine.

"Has Stefanie gone home for the summer?"

"Yes."

"Stefan, I promise I won't go one about her but I was disappointed that you two broke up. And so soon after you were getting on so well when she visited."

"Well that's the way it is."

"Is there any chance of a reconciliation?"

"I doubt it."

"Have you talked to her since the break-up?"

"We had coffee just before she left."

"Is she over you?"

"No."

"Are you over her?"

That was a tough one. I wasn't sure myself. Probably not, though I couldn't imagine resuming. "I'm not sure. Probably. Maybe."

"How did you leave it?"

"Leave it?"

"I mean will you stay in touch? See what unfolds? See one another in September?"

I was just replying on auto-pilot when a major blurt erupted.

"She asked me to see a shrink."

"A psychiatrist? Whatever for?"

Now I'd done it. How could I have said that? It was only a couple of beers so drunkenness couldn't be the answer. My tawdry shame was about to come out.

"Well, I couldn't get attracted to her in the way she wanted because she looks so much like you. So she asked me to see a shrink about it."

"Good heavens! I wondered about that too. But who could you see? There's only Dr. Ruby in this town."

"Yeah, I know." Dr. Ruby was ancient, around 60, and I suspected he'd gotten his degree in pre-Freudian times. Besides, he was the father of a schoolmate of mine and he always seemed doddering when I was at his house.

"I can see your reluctance. I can't imagine you opening up to him."

I sighed. "I just said I'd consider it, not that I'd do it. And I've considered it."

"Well let's think on it some more. I admit I wondered if that might be a problem."

"What?"

"In the sauna when I saw Stefanie, I realized that now you'd know what your old mother looked like naked."

"Aw Mom, you're not that old. But geez."

"Oh don't be so prudish. You used to take a sauna with your father and me."

"Yeah, but I was a kid then. I barely remember it."

"Look Mister. Nudity isn't that big of a deal. If we were back in Sweden we'd have probably gone to nude beaches."

"Mo-om."

"OK, I won't dwell on it. But I know you won't see Dr. Ruby so if you ever want to talk about it, think of me. I love you and want what's best for you and I think you'd be happy with Stefanie. Now let's call it a night."

With that she got up, tousled my hair, and bent over to give me a kiss on the lips. I stayed up for a while, had another beer, and tried to figure out what was going on.

Monday I started work and when I came home, my mother gave me a kiss.

"So what's with the kisses?"

"I think I like Auntie Rose's way of greeting. Do you mind?"

"Not really I guess. I just wasn't expecting it."

"Then you'll be in better form tomorrow when I kiss you again."

That was true to a point. She did kiss me only this time it was when I was leaving for work. A year ago it might have grossed me out but now, I was kind of enjoying it though it took me a long time to admit this to myself.

The summer went on the kisses kept coming though they never escalated to tongues or anything. But the touching increased. Pretty much always if I were doing something in the kitchen, she'd slap my ass or increasingly, squeeze it. It was done playfully but it sure hadn't happened before I went to college.

One day I decided to retaliate. My mother was washing dishes and as I walked by, I gave her butt a squeeze.

"Oooh! I'll give you thirty minutes to stop that."

I pulled my hand back as though it had touched a hot burner. "Sorry Stef, I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that I'm sensitive back there" as she glanced over her shoulder to her behind "and it's been so long since I've been touched there."

"Aw Mom."

"Well that's what you get for fondling your mother."

"It wasn't a fondle. And you do the same to me."

"It was a fondle and I don't mind at all."

This was getting too much for me. I blushed and left the room.

A few weeks into summer I was again watching TV with my mother on a Saturday night. My high school friends who'd stayed in town mostly had girlfriends so the social life was fairly poor on weekends. This Saturday we'd been watching a movie and I'd stretched my arm out along the top of the sofa. My mother took this as a sign to move in closer for a cuddle. I tried to leave it up there but after several minutes it was getting painful so I lowered it to around her shoulders.

"That feels nice. So cozy."

We kept watching the movie but after a while her breathing got steadier and I realized she'd fallen asleep. We had an older model TV with no remote and I didn't want to wake her up just yet. So I lay back a little and soon fell asleep myself. A couple of hours later I awoke with the TV still on. My mother was lying on top of me and caressing my cheek.

"Hi Stef. I guess that movie wasn't exciting enough. But I liked waking up with you. Would you mind sleeping with me for the rest of the night?"

Still groggy from waking up, I must have looked shocked.

"Just sleep silly. I was so comfortable beside you. Please?"

I could hardly say no and I didn't. Normally in the summer I slept in my boxers or nothing at all. But under the circumstances I put on a long set of pyjamas, brushed my teeth and entered my mother's bedroom. She also had a long pair of pyjamas that looked unseasonable for a warm night. We got into bed, she kissed me and turned out the light.

There was a lot of tossing and turning before I fell asleep. Mainly it was those damned pyjamas which were way too hot. In the middle of the night my mother just tossed the blanket aside. I woke up on my side with her arm around my waist. We were both sweating.

"Remind me that the next time I invite you into my bed it better be winter. In summer I just sleep in my panties or nothing at all, but I didn't want to give you a complex."

"Same here. Boxers or nothing. But I didn't want to freak you out."

"It wouldn't be very appropriate for a naked mother to share a bed with a naked son, now would it?"

"I guess not."

"Well then, I'm stripping down so I can get some sleep. You should do the same, but back in your own room."

I got up to leave when she called out.

"Goodnight kiss." We kissed and this time she lingered a couple of seconds longer. "Now get out quick or I'm really going to give you a complex."

No new developments for the next couple of weeks until one day my mother announced that Uncle Rasmus had told her the cottage was available for five days in early August if we wanted to use it. It would be no big deal getting the time off from work but the thought of five days with my mother gave me pause. We'd been getting along fine but unlike those Literoticians with Oedipal Complexes, it wasn't my idea of a dream vacation. Still, it beat five days from the office routine.

"Sounds good."

Uncle Rasmus's Cottage Again

Not much on the first day. We got up there, unpacked, cooked hot dogs and vegged out. There was a sunroom with large windows overlooking the lake and we just sat up drinking and looking out till midnight. When she got up for bed she gave me a kiss and it lingered. I even moved my lips a little and so did she. "Goodnight love."

Whew. What just happened? It felt nice but when I thought of it, kissing your own mother? Yuk. It's my mother. But I kind of knew I liked it and wanted to do it again.

The next morning we had a late brunch, went for a walk and swam. My mother had a modest two-piece suit and I had a boxer-style swimsuit. There were some young couples, mid-20s, as our neighbours and the women had killer tiny bikinis while the men had those slick ones that looked like glam codpieces. The properties were large so they were about a hundred yards away but it was obvious they were showing plenty of skin.

"Well aren't we the fuddie-duddies." my mother remarked.

"I've always been comfortable in this one Mom but don't let me stop you from something more daring."

"Thanks, but this is the only one I brought and I'm not going to give you a complex by going topless."

"Now who's the one being prudish about nudity?"

She laughed and poked me in the chest. "Well we'll just see about that."

We had a light lunch and afterwards my mother remarked that she'd like to try out the hot tub.

"You get it ready and I'll join you."

There wasn't much to getting it ready. It had some jets that were easy to turn on. I contemplated going naked but with my mom? Nah.

I was sitting and relaxing when she came out with a towel wrapped around her. I wondered if she were naked underneath and noted a twinge of disappointment when she dropped it and was still in her two-piece.

We sat there and chatted aimlessly when she startled me by asking "Stef, would you mind if I took off my top?"

I was tongue-tied but managed to get out something that sounded like a no. And without fanfare, she undid her clasp and shrugged off her top. Her breasts weren't large but they were nicely shaped and her nipples, just like Stefanie's, were pink with an upward curve.

"It's OK to look" she laughed. I blushed. "So were both topless. No big deal."

"Well, it is a little different."

"Oh? How so?"

I couldn't believe we were having this conversation but, kind of thrilled to be seeing my mother's breasts, I continued.

"Well, women's breasts are also, um, sexual organs."

"They are NOT sexual organs. Though you guys treat them as though they were."

"But don't they get sensitive during, um, ah, sex?"

"That doesn't make them sexual organs. Some women are completely insensitive there and some men are get really turned on when theirs are stimulated."

While I was trying to think of a comeback, my mother leaned over and ran her tongue across my right nipple.

"Any reaction?

Aside from being shocked, no sensual one. "It felt OK but nothing in the way of, you know, sexual."

"You see, they're not sexual organs."

"But if someone did that to you, wouldn't it be sexual?"

"I suppose so but the difference is that mine are very sensitive."

"You mean just like your bum?"

She laughed again. "Yup. I have a lot of sensitive places. Don't you?"

I was blushing again. Half squeamish and half excited about the conversation. It occurred to me that my mother was flirting.

"Just the usual I guess."

"When you get more experience you'll probably find a few you never would have imagined. I know I did."

"Are you going to tell me?"

She was smiling but leaned her head on a slant and looked quizzical. For some reason I thought of Stefanie.

"That would be a lot to tell. And if I told you then you'd have to tell me and then where'd we be?"

There was a good answer to this but damned if I could come up with it. I was blushing even more.

"Look, you already know more than you should. I've told you my tits (yikes, she said 'tits') and my butt are sensitive and I'm sure you can think of at least one more place."

Bowled over. And now as I noticed, hard. And ready to blurt.

"I guess I should start thinking."

She laughed again and fake-slapped my face.

"That's highly inappropriate young man. You don't catch me talking about imagining your most sensitive places."

"Do you?"

"Keep that up and I just might. I think we've had enough of the hot tub. Let's have a drink and work on dinner."

Dinner was a tad awkward, as though the flirting had gone beyond agreed upon limits. The mood wasn't horrible or anything but it felt like much was unsaid.

After dinner we settled in with drinks in the sunroom and watched the lake. My mother snuggled in beside me and rubbed my mildly ticklish ribs. I grabbed her hand.

"Hey, stop that."

"So no rib sensitivity."

"Mom, don't start."

She looked up, serious. "Stef, I'm sorry if I've gone too far. It's just that I've enjoyed being around you and, well, sometimes I get a little playful. I can rein that in if you're uncomfortable."

Right then I decided I liked the playful side. "It's OK Mom. I really like your playful side. I just over-reacted to the tickling. Be as playful as you like."

"Are you sure?" I smiled and nodded. "Well, that opens up possibilities."

"Such as...?"

"Such as...midnight skinny dip. Have you ever done that?"

"No. Not at midnight or any other time."

"Well there's a first time for everything. Are you game?"