Disclaimers -- This is fictional and inspired by a popular story on this site. That one also featured a lookalike mother and girlfriend but it was written from the mother's point of view and quite a bit different than this one, which is much longer than I expected when I began to write it. I considered splitting it into chapters but the first part wouldn't have qualified as Taboo and I didn't want to have the two (or three) in separate genres.
If you're a fan of pregnancy or freakishly large cocks and breasts, you'd best seek another story more to your tastes. I've given up trying to find editors so the editing is mine alone. Please let me know if there are errors. I've re-read it in pieces a few times but I'm sure to have missed something. And I do reply to comments.
Intro
I had never entertained sexual thoughts or desires for my mother. It's not that she was hideous or obese or foul-tempered. Quite the opposite in fact. She resembled the mother on The Partridge Family -- blonde, trim and cute but not exactly oozing sex appeal. While I had x-rated fantasies about a couple of aunts, I never thought of my mother, Shirley, that way.
When you're an 18 year-old male, your mind wanders all over the sexual terrain. But it was as though there was a big EWWWW sign over the track in the direction of my mother. As for me, blond hair, 5'11'' (180 cm) slim and about to enter my freshman year. It had just been my mother and I for several years after my father packed up and left.
As the university was around 300 miles (480 km) away, I was to live in residence. I promised my mother I'd come home once a month and politely listened to her departure advice.
"Keep up your studies.
"Socialize but don't let it interfere with your schoolwork."
"Just because you're of drinking age (18 in our neck of the woods), don't go overboard."
"Try to meet a nice girl.
Meeting Stefanie
I ignored the first three but soon enough met a nice girl. We had a History class together where she asked smart questions and quietly mocked the dumber ones. We got chatting and soon discovered we liked the same music (Clash, Police, Madonna, OK, everybody liked them, how about Kate Bush and Squeeze), the same contemporary movies (Prick Up Your Ears and Under Fire), NPR radio, Shakespeare and smoking dope. More importantly, we laughed at the same things.
I could tell she liked me and I liked her too. But there was one problem. She looked like an 18 year-old version of my mother, even down to the same height, body shape, hair-style and how her nose wrinkled when she laughed. At least she didn't like The Partridge Family. Her name was Stefanie which made it weirder because my name is Stefan.
So for the longest time I friend-zoned her. We hung out a lot, had a weekly study session in the library and went out on lots of group dates where we'd spend most of the time talking to each other. My residence pals caught on and Dwight, my mountain bear of a roommate, questioned why I hadn't asked her out.
"Aww, she's nice enough but I just like her as a friend."
"But she's pretty and likes you. And she'd be putting out in no time."
I suspected that. And that was the problem. Every time I'd imagine something sexual with her, I'd get this vision of my mother and, ewww.
But I really enjoyed her company and enjoyed having someone who was sort of a girlfriend. Still, I recoiled any time there was an opportunity to kiss her.
Around mid-semester I went home for the weekend. My mother was glad to see me and over-fussed. After the usual school questions,
"So Stefan, have you met any nice girls?"
"Well, one, but we're just friends."
"Is that friends or 'friends'?" as she air-quoted.
"Friends, without quotes,"
"Well she must be a bit special for you to mention her."
"We get along really well but there's no chemistry, at least on my part."
"So there is on her part?"
"I don't know that."
"But you suspect so, or you wouldn't have mentioned 'on my part'."
I felt stymied. Words were failing me and I shook my head.
"Is she nice looking?"
Uh oh. I could sense dangerous ground here. I was disinclined to come right out and say she looked just like my mom because who knew where that would lead. Nowhere good I reckoned.
"Yes, she's pretty."
"Pretty, likes you and you enjoy her company. Stefan, give it some thought. Women with that combination don't come around very often. Is there some drawback you haven't mentioned?"
Now was the time. Except it absolutely wasn't. I racked my brain for a failing, but the only failing was my brain.
"Well..." long pause, "her parents live on the West Coast." Even my slow-witted self could see the No Sale sign going up on that one.
My mother looked at me as though she hadn't heard right, shook her head, made a "pffft" sound but then thankfully let me off the hook.
I got back to college and there was already a message from Stefanie. I called her right away.
"How was your weekend home? Did you miss me?"
"You know how those home weekends are. Lots of grilling about school and college life."
"That answers one of my questions."
"It was only a weekend. Just a couple of nights. If it had been a couple more then I'm sure I would have missed you. But we're talking now."
"Hmmm, I'll accept that. Of course I didn't miss you in the slightest."
"Then the phone message was an accident?"
"No, I actually wanted to know if you'd like to increase the study evenings. End of term is coming up and I seem to get more done when we study together. Would you mind Tuesdays and Thursdays?"
We already had our History class Monday, Wednesday and Friday and usually hung out on the weekend. This was beginning to feel like going steady but hell, I liked her company.
"Sure. If you flunked out on my account I'd really miss you."
"Thanks. I'd rather I didn't and rather you didn't, though I like that you said it."
After that Stefanie started getting more touchy-feely. Little things like sometimes grabbing my arm when she was talking to me or playfully shoving me Elaine Benes style if we were arguing about something.
A few weeks later there was a party at one of the student dorms. I was with my residence buddies and Stefanie turned up with some of her pals. She came over and hugged me and we started chatting. She was beaming and it felt like there was an undercurrent of something, tension?
Just then Dwight came over.
"Hey Stef, Marvin's breaking out the wacky tabacky. Want some?"
"Of course."
Stefanie chimed in. "I'm Stef too. Is this Boys Only or are women welcome too?"
"Stef and Stef. Sounds like... I dunno. But sure ma'am. You're very welcome."
Dwight was a slow talking good ol' boy who enjoyed his weed and as he described himself, "your basic C & D student". I liked him but suspected there'd be long spells of unemployment and underemployment in his future.
Marvin was the main dorm connection. A fast talker and entrepreneurial. Everyone knew not to ask where he got it from but he always had it. He was likeable enough but confuted volubility with insight. I didn't mind so much as I usually agreed with him but he did go on with conventional observations that he'd declaim in a tone of voice suggestive of stone tablets.
"You see, I don't want MY tax dollars paying for police to go after kids who are just smoking a harmless plant."
Well yeah. Not that he was paying taxes, and I noted the self-interest. I imagined his future as one of intermittent successes and jail time. I must have imagined that aloud as Stefanie whispered "My thoughts exactly."
There were eight or nine of us in the room and a few bowls had been passed around. It was good stuff and I was getting to that stage where whatever I said came as a surprise, especially to me.
Stefanie was looking glassy-eyed and leaned over on me. "This is really hitting me Stefan, do you mind?"
"Not at all. Make yourself comfortable." She snuggled closer and I put my arm around her shoulder. The physical contact was feeling very nice. We kind of dozed with occasional interruptions from Marvin.
"What people have to realize is that nukes can wipe out EVERYONE!"
I'd done enough realizing for the night and asked Stefanie if she wanted to leave. She put her arm around me. "Let's go."
Out in the fresh air we looked around. "Walk me home Stefan? That stuff was strong."
I'd never walked her home before. It was only a couple of blocks to her dorm and though it sounds minor, it felt like a significant step. If I hadn't been so buzzed I might have had more of a clue of the steps to come.
She fastened on to my arm and staggered once or twice. The second time she put her arm around my waist and I reciprocated by putting mine around her shoulders. We didn't talk much and I tried to steer what conversation there was to safe topics like Dwight's and Marvin's foibles.
At her doorstep she thanked me for getting her home and then lunged forward and kissed me on the lips. "Thanks again Stefan."
I mumbled a goodnight and turned away. Somehow I knew this moment would come. Now what? I didn't want to push it forward but I didn't think I could, well, whatever the equivalent of break-up is when you're not actually going out with someone. On the other hand, if she hadn't had a roommate and had invited me upstairs, I doubt I would have had the willpower to resist. It ain't easy keeping the harness on 18 year-old hormones. I wondered how I'd feel in the morning.
Which I never found out. It was almost 1:00 when I awoke. It was the first real dope-over I'd experienced and I just wandered around, watched TV and shot the breeze with the less studious dorm-mates. Stefanie called in the late afternoon.
"Hey Stefan. You want to get together in the library after dinner?"
"Sure. It's a date." Geez, what did I just say? But I did have a term paper due in a couple of days and had wasted most of this one.
We met up at the library, had some brief school talk and got to work. Around 10 we packed it in and she asked if I wanted to go for a coffee. I sensed that the coffee would come with A Talk but could see no way out of it. And sure enough...
"Thanks again for getting me home last night Stefan."
"No prob. That's what friends are for, right?"