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Playing Matchmaker

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“I have to talk to you – urgent.” was all the message had said. It wasn’t like James to be dramatic; he was probably the most laid back and level headed friend I had. The guy didn’t even sweat on the basketball court. But I texted him to come on over, and fifteen minutes later he was banging on my apartment door. When I let him in he was clearly on edge.

“Don, thanks.”

“No problem man. You all right?”

James was already pacing back and forth in my living room and didn’t even seem to hear me. The crack of a beer can opening brought him back to his senses. I handed him the drink and waved him over to a chair.

“Oh boy. Don. I have no idea what to do.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Well, sort of.”

“Is it money?”

“No, no.”

“The law?”

“What? No, nothing like that.”

I lowered my voice. “A girl?”


“You got lady troubles. Okay. Hit me with it. There’s nothing I haven’t heard.”

“No, I don’t think you’ve heard this.”

“I didn’t think you were seeing anybody.”

“I’m not! I’m definitely not. It’s… and this is absolutely between us. Goes no further.”

“C’mon dude. That goes without saying.”

“All right.” James let out a big breath. “It’s about my mom.”

“…your mom? What about her?”

“This is going to sound crazy. It sounds crazy just to hear myself say it. But my mom…”

“Jill, right?”

“Yes, Jill. My mom, she’s…”


“She’s hitting on me man.”

“Hitting? She’s beating you?”

“No! She is hitting. on. me. Being flirty. Making little passes. She’s sending signals!”

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Then I burst out laughing. “Oh… dude!”

“It’s not funny.”

“Dude! This is your imagination. This is not actually happening.”

“Yes it is.”

“James. We’re 19. We’re in the same college classes. We’re surrounded by pussy. It’s all we think about, talk about, care about. We’ve got pussy on the brain. So you go home after getting drunk on the perfume in those classrooms, and suddenly your mom is making eyes at you. It’s all in your head.”

“Believe me, I tried to convince myself of that at first. But this has been going on for a month.”

“So what has she done.”

“If I told you her tongue was in my mouth today, would that change your mind?”

My own beer stopped halfway to my lips. I sat up straight in my chair. “Jill’s… your mom’s… you frenched your mom?”

“Her tongue, I said. Not mine.” James actually smiled now that he had gotten through to me. “You want me to start from the beginning?” My mouth was still slightly open, but I motioned in the affirmative.

“You know my mom’s been single for a while now.” I shook my head. “Well she has. Since my dad passed. Let’s see, it’s been almost five years. She’d always been the typical army wife. You’d know about that if you’d grown up on base. Assertive. Strict. Not shy about sharing her opinion. There was a lot of love in our house, but also a lot of discipline. Mom always knew exactly what she wanted, and she always got exactly what she wanted.”

“Sounds like a bummer.”

“Yeah but it really wasn’t. She’s fun to be around. And she had endless friends. My mom’s the life of every party. Her laughter fills a room. There were a lot of guys trying to date her after we lost dad, and I think she did date a little. But none of them lasted. None of them were good enough.”

“Mm hmm.” (The time seemed right for doobage, and I located one in my inside pocket. Now I looked for the lighter.)

“I thought she was happy being single. But… mom has been spending more and more time with me, and she’s dropping hints, unless I’m imagining things, hints that she’s looking for an even closer relationship. She tells me how handsome I am, that I’m a real hunk. She’s more touchy feely. When we watch movies or TV on the couch, there’s been lots of cuddling – stroking my hair, things like that. I think she sees me as a younger version of dad. And I think she’s sending out signals that she wants me to take dad’s place for real, and be the man in her life.”

“What kind of signals?”

“She’s wearing less around the house. Shorts. Tee shirts. Sometimes no bra. And robes. Robes that could slip open and show a little more than I should have seen.”

“Uh huh.”

“She’s been giving me these hugs, wearing only a robe, every day before I leave for school. And the hugs have been lingering longer and longer. Oh, and once when I walked in the bathroom for a shower she was just stepping out of one. Didn’t lock the door. Just smiled at me before she covered up. I could swear she wanted me to catch her naked.”

Mentally I was trying to picture this but was having difficulty. I had been over to James’ house plenty of times and had met his mother Jill. She seemed like a typical mom in her 40s. She was taller than most, slim and fit, wore glasses. I had never, you know, evaluated her.

“All this time,” James continued, “I thought mom might be going through some kind of phase, and that it may not ataşehir escort have anything specifically to do with me. Maybe she was lonely. Maybe she was horny. The idea that she was into me didn’t make any sense. Then, about a week ago, I tried to peel back from one of her morning hugs. She got petulant about it. She told me maybe what I needed wasn’t a goodbye hug, maybe I needed a goodbye kiss. And she pulled me in and planted one on my lips.”


“And for the last week, that’s been the new normal. First there’s this full-body hug that goes on and on – then a kiss on the lips.”

“Until today.”

“Yeah.” James grew quieter. “This morning she seemed a little more emotional. When I was putting on my jacket to leave, her eyes were red, like maybe she’d been crying. Then, when we hugged, she spoke to me, and she was very direct. ‘Jim’ she said, ‘I’m not much good at this, and I don’t want to pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do. But you need to know – that I love you. I love you more than you know.’ And before I could react to that, she took my face in her hands, and very tenderly brought my face to hers. She gave me… well like I said, she sort of nibbled my lips until I opened them and then she slipped in her tongue. Just for a few seconds. Then it was over. I stood there absolutely stunned and she very quickly left the room.”

“Unbelievable.” I sat back in my seat. “You’re right. I was wrong.”

“So you understand why I came over here. All day in school I couldn’t concentrate. Now I can’t go home and face her until I’ve thought about how to handle this. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. Does she need therapy? Do I need to move out? Because this can’t continue. How do I tell her that this behavior is completely inappropriate and that more kisses are out of the question? What do I do?”

“The first thing to do is to relax and take a hit or two off of this.” I passed the joint which James eagerly accepted, and which gave me a few moments to consider my answer. You see, towards the end of James’ story, I kind of got an idea. Sort of an evil idea. James was expecting one kind of answer; but why not steer him in a different direction? Why not explore some alternative possibilities?

“What do you do?” I chose my words carefully. “What you need to do, is you need to decide what you want.”

“What do you mean decide what I want?”

“I mean your mom has opened a door. You need to decide what you want. Are you interested or not.”

“Are you out of your mind? Of course I’m not interested. She’s my mother!”

“Well, all I can say is, it does happen.”

“What does happen?”

“You know. Guys and their moms. I’m not passing judgment, I’m just saying, it does happen.”

“To who?”

“Well, I’m not going to name names, but I personally have known two guys that it happened to.” (This was a lie – but I wanted to see the reaction.)

‘What? … No way.”

“I don’t think this is quite as rare as you’re thinking it is. It’s never discussed – after all, it is the ultimate taboo. But a lot of guys, the first real crush they get is on their mom. And a man’s sexual prime is about 18 years old. A woman’s is around 40. The ages can line up perfectly. Your mother births you, feeds you, raises you, teaches you how to be a man, and then can provide one last maternal service – teaching you how to be a good, giving sexual partner.” As James listened, mouth agape, I wrapped up my little improvised bullshit lecture. “So as I said, it does happen.”

“And you know two guys it happened to.”

“Sure. One was really into his mom. He made all the moves. She was against it 100%. But then, after a night when they both had too much to drink, they ended up making out. He got to second base. They never discussed it again. With the other guy, the feelings were mutual, and the romance lasted a full summer.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. After the summer, both of them realized it was time for him to move on to girls his own age, but the experience gave him confidence and skills that have served him well ever since. And his relationship with his mother stayed very close.”

James chewed on that for a while. But then he seemed to realize how insane I was sounding and went back to his original line. “Okay but what do I do? I’m not like those… those other guys. I have no interest, zero, in… ‘dating’ my mother.”

“Hate to disagree with you James, but I don’t think that’s really true.”

“Oh? Now you’re going to tell me what I think? I have zero interest. ZERO.”

I risked a laugh. “My man. If you had ZERO interest, you wouldn’t be here in my apartment. You would have told your mom in plain language, in no uncertain terms, this morning, that – how did you put it? – it was highly inappropriate and out of the question? What, you need me to tell you how to say no to her? You say no, that’s how you do it. But, you didn’t say no when you obviously could have. You came here. You’re here for a reason, and it’s not the reason you think. You’re here because you’re conflicted. You want ME to get disgusted and kadıköy escort bayan enraged at what your mom did, so that you have confirmation that telling her no is the right call. You want ME to tell you to set her up with a shrink and move out.”

While I said this James was still as a statue. I pressed my luck; “But I’m sorry Jim-boy, that isn’t my reaction. I’m sorry I have to deepen your confliction, and it IS confliction, but I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t. It does happen, and I don’t personally have any moral hang-ups about it. And so I’m back to my original answer. What do you do? You think about what you want. You decide if this door your mom has opened is one you want to walk through. That’s a hard call to make, but you have to make it yourself. If you figure out that the answer is no, I hope that you treat her with kindness and respect when you tell her. And if the answer is yes, I hope you treat her just as you would any other woman that you were courting – with respect and with plenty of affection.”

I took back the joint and settled back to take a well deserved toke.

James was actually trembling, and then he slumped forward with his face in his hands. “Oh Jesus.” he said. “I have to… I have to decide what I want.”

“That’s right.”

“But Don. I wasn’t kidding. I really do have zero interest. She’s my mom. I don’t look at her that way or think about her that way.”

“That’s why you have zero interest. You’ve done what society expects of you and you’ve never had these impure thoughts. Now you can permit yourself to have them. Just try them out. Give her a new look. What is it about women that attracts you the most? The shape of the leg, the curve of the breast? The smile? Then take a real look at your mom, and see if she has those qualities. I mean my God, she’s inviting you to make these judgments. According to your story, she’s showing you a lot of skin, hoping to find out what arouses you.”

“You… you’re right.”

“I’ll just say this and then I’ll leave it at that. Most of the time when ‘this’ happens, it’s the guys who want it. It’s the guys who have to move heaven and earth to make it happen. I’ve never heard of the mother making the first move, getting the wheels turning. A lot of guys would consider you extremely lucky to be in this predicament. I can’t tell you what choice you should make, but I can say that very few guys are lucky enough to even have that choice. I’d be very sure before I threw away the opportunity. And that’s all I’ll say.”

“Jesus Christ.” (James didn’t have a deep well of obscenities and he was already repeating himself.) “Jesus Don. You know this did not go the way I expected. I came in here to get advice about how to get my mom mental help, and now I’m leaving with a plan to open my mind about incest.”

“I think you just got smart my friend. Let me know how it goes.”

James walked out in a daze and I shut the door slowly behind him. Well that was that. Who knew I could improvise so much BS, so quickly? The strange seed was planted; now I just had to wait to see what sprouted. I truly had no idea why Jill Alcott would be in love with James, but now I was curious. Could I get James together, I mean really together with his mom? A smile spread across my face. It was more than a little sick, and it would be a tricky task, but I was up for the challenge.


I didn’t talk to James for the next week. He’d split right after class, and it was radio silence on the phone. I knew that it was important not to seem pushy, but finally I couldn’t take the waiting anymore.

“Earth to Jim,” I finally texted. “Everything OK? Where you been?”

“I’m at home. Not really a good time.” came the reply.

So I was prepared to give him some more space, but he replied again shortly thereafter:

“Can you come over here? Just for 30 mins.”

“No prob.”

James and his mom lived not too far from me in a fairly simple 2-bedroom ranch-style home. Jill kept the place looking nice though, with a trimmed lawn and some good rose bushes. You can take the woman out of the army base, etc. etc. I entered through the kitchen door, and found James slouched at the breakfast table. If possible, he looked even more edgy than when I’d seen him the week before.

“You just missed her,” was his greeting. “We gotta talk quickly cause she’s coming back.”

“What is she, your mom or the warden?”

“I don’t know what she is anymore. You and your damned advice.”

“All right, all right, chill out. You know I’m on your side. So what’s been going on?”

“Okay. Here’s the deal. I took what you said seriously, and I realized I at least owed my mom a fair and honest consideration about, you know, what we talked about. About the door that she opened. So I’ve been trying, Don. I’ve been trying to look at her in a new way. Is she – pretty? Well of course she is. But pretty how?”

I nodded in agreement as he started to really open up.

“It’s the difficulty of wrapping my mind around the idea that has me tied up in knots. I mean, it’s mom for Gods sakes. A month ago this would escort maltepe have been the furthest thing from reality. If you had told me a month ago that today I would be checking out my mom, weighing the pros and cons of… romance with her, I would have laughed in your face. But now here I am, scoping out her body, trying to imagine what I’d do with it in the bedroom. It’s unbelievable. I actually, for real, I actually was studying her ass yesterday as she did chores right here in this room. And I couldn’t deny it – she has a nice ass. But as soon as I think anything like that I snap out of it, and remember who it is, and then I’m ashamed of myself. Now mom continues to drop the not-so-subtle hints around the home that she is open to a new relationship. She may have been emotional and meek last week, but now the supermom is back. She is upbeat and chipper and she’s gotten very assertive about her hugs and kisses. She’s also finding other times to get touchy-feely with me. There’s no doubt in my mind she’s giving me a clear signal of what she wants, but at the same time leaving me room to say no without embarrassment. I think like always mom knows what she wants but that this time what she wants happens to be me.

I keep trying to cross the mental hurdle. But it’s not easy. I’m looking at her top to bottom and trying to decide if I think she’s a woman I could desire, but the guilt of who I’m looking at keeps popping up to stop me before things get too far in my mind. Clearly, by objective standards she is sexy, and if she wasn’t my mother, it would probably be a no brainer. But she is. And becoming a motherfucker is something I don’t know if I can deal with.”

“Okay.” I replied. “Well. There’s a lot to digest in what you just said. First of all, I have to say: congratulations. You’ve made enormous progress on this since we talked last week. I mean, you’ve actually taught yourself to think differently, which very few people can do. And you’ve opened your mind to something entirely new. Of course it wasn’t going to be easy, but that mental hurdle you talked about – in the most important sense you’ve already cleared it.

Second – the word motherfucker. That’s just offensive and it doesn’t apply to the kind of hookups and relationships I was discussing with you the other day. And of course it absolutely wouldn’t apply to you. Your mom is not some piece of meat, she’s a woman, a woman with needs. And she’s entitled to all the respect and chivalry you’d give any other girl.

Third – and my advice to you – keep working at it. You’ve already admitted she’s sexy. To me that settles the question of whether or not you could desire her. Clearly you could. Now it’s just a question of wanting to. What you need to do now is just try incorporating your mom into your fantasy life. Just a little at a time. Just try it out. If it gets too freaky, back it off, and try it again the next day. I think you’ll be surprised at how if you give it a chance, the weirdness of it starts to go away.”

“And you think it can get to the point where it wouldn’t be weird?”

“I think there’s no getting around the weird factor the first time you rub one out with your mom’s face clearly in the picture. And there’s no getting around the weird factor the first time it happens for real. But I’ve been doing some reading on the internet.”

“Oh great.”

“No, don’t dismiss it. These are real people in real situations. Once that initial weirdness is past, the guys and the moms both say it’s the most intense, intimate and pleasurable sexual experience they’ve ever had.”

“Where did you read that?”

“Where? In the Sears catalogue. Where do you think I read it? On websites devoted to this stuff. Consensual relationships with family members.”


“It’s not just one or two people, James. It’s thousands. And there are communities on the internet where these people can speak freely without the need to hide their lifestyle.”

“I don’t want a lifestyle. I just want to be normal.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This is normal. It’s normal for thousands of people. Mothers who say it’s the best decision they ever made. Sons who are so happy they want to boast about their conquest…”

At that moment, we both heard car wheels on the gravel driveway. James turned around and poked his head toward the window.

“Shit. She’s here.”

“You want me to…”

“Yeah you’d better split.”

There was no avoiding Jill though, since my bike was parked right there and she couldn’t have missed it. I stepped outside right as James’ mom locked her Jetta.

“Hi Mrs. Alcott.”

“Hi! Er…”

“It’s Don.”

“Right, Don. I didn’t know James was expecting company.”

“No, I was just in the neighborhood and stopped by.” The daylight was fading fast, but there was still enough of it to get a good look at Jill Alcott. She was easily 5’10”, maybe 5’11”. That must be where James got his height. Slim but not skinny, short hair – downright tomboyish really. Tee shirt – no bra – (at least that detail from James’ story could be confirmed). Breasts not really big anyway. Shorts. The legs: not really curvy or shapely, but white and boy did they look smooth. And yes, the glasses – frames were way too big for her in my opinion. All in all, and this was the first time I had ever really checked out a buddy’s mom: she wasn’t bad looking.

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