“Europe!”
The smile on my mother’s face stretched from ear to ear as she dropped the two airline tickets on the table and waited for my reaction.
Having just finished my sophomore year of college, I have to admit that the last thing I thought about doing for the summer was going to Europe with my 35-year-old mother. Sure, she was my best friend and I loved her to death, but I was really looking forward to hanging around Chicago and spending my free summer months with friends.
“Well,” she said, still smiling. “What do you say, Matty? Want to travel the world with your mom?”
I sat stunned for a bit, before warming to the idea a bit. Who couldn’t use a couple weeks in Europe, right?
“How long would we be gone?” I asked.
“As long as we want,” she giddily replied. They’re open-ended tickets. I figured we could see how we liked it and go from there.”
Then, the coy begging began. “Don’t you want to spend some time with me?”
Not able to resist her playful pout, I relented. “Okay, I’m in.”
My mother became pregnant with me when she was just 15-years-old. Not exactly her life’s plan. My father, who was a couple of years older stuck by her and promised to take care of her the best he could. The only problem was that they were teenagers, and they definitely weren’t in love. Not even a little.
By the time I was a ten years old, their marriage was in complete shambles. My father, while very successful in business, was never home and seemed to have ‘family’ just below ‘drinking buddies’ on his list of priorities. My mother, who had given up her dreams of college to raise me, was lonely. Then, in a cruel twist of fate, my father died in a car accident just before I graduated high school, and she was left without a career and without a man to call her own. Aside from me, that is.
One thing my father did right was leaving my mom well taken care of. At the time of his passing, he had left my mother everything in his will—millions of dollars in total. He may not have been a much of a husband, but at least he left her financially set. That financial stability is what prompted my mother to offer to pay for our trek to Europe. Who was I to complain?
“So, we’ll fly into Amsterdam,” she said, as she traced her finger across a map. “Then, I’ve reserved a suite in Copenhagen for a week. I figure explore the city for a bit and just go where our hearts desire from there.”
“Sounds good to me!” I said.
Who was I to argue? Besides, the excitement in her voice was all I needed to hear. She had been alone for the past two years while I was away at college, so she had more than earned her share of some family time.
Within two weeks, our bags were packed and we were boarding our plane for what was sure to be a long flight. My seat was next to the window, and my mother’s was right next to mine. Thankfully, there wasn’t anyone else in our row, so we had a little room to stretch out.
Once in the air, I put on my headphones to watch a movie, while my mother stretched out a bit to catch some winks. As she rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes, I couldn’t help but notice her legs as they popped out from her dress.
My mother was still relatively young at 35, but I was still shocked at how amazing they looked—very well-defined without a bit of fat or cellulite. She’d later tell me that she had started working out with a trainer while I was at school. It was definitely making an impact.
When we arrived in Amsterdam, it was late and we were both wiped out from the flight. We decided to find a hotel and crash for the night before making our way to Copenhagen the next day. We found a hotel not far from the airport and got a room. When we walked in the room, however, there was a problem. Only one queen-sized bed. My mother called down to the desk to see if they could find another room with two beds, but the staff person told her they didn’t have any such rooms left.
“It’s alright, Mom,” I said. “I can just sleep on the floor. No big deal.”
“No you won’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I won’t have you getting a tight neck from a bad night’s sleep on our first night here. We can share the bed. It’s not the end of the world.”
I was fine with that scenario, if she was. As I got ready for bed, mom hopped in the shower to freshen up after a long day. By the time the shower turned off, I was in bed nearly asleep. She came out of the bathroom wearing only a towel. I pretended to be asleep as she walked to her suitcase opposite the bed. Her back was to me, but I could make out the shape of her upper body and ass pretty well. I have to admit, I was blown away. She looked amazing.
Then, it happened. She bent over a bit to reach into her bag and the towel lifted up just enough for me to see her pussy from behind. It was a perfect mound with two well-tucked lips.
My cock immediately began to grow in my boxers. I closed my eyes again as she whirled around to see if I was awake. When she turned back around I opened my eyes to see her drop the towel. She stood naked while pulling out an over-sized t-shirt and sliding it over her body.
I only saw my mother nude for a second, but she was the living embodiment of perfection. Her skin was tan and smooth. Her ass was tight and round, but not too big. While I didn’t get a good view of her breasts, I could tell they were a nice handful without being overly large. How could this be the woman who gave birth to me 20 years ago?
She crawled into bed and turned off the lights, but I couldn’t have been more awake, my cock now at full size in my boxers.
Within minutes, I could hear her breathing become deeper and knew she was asleep. I looked over at this sleeping beauty, wearing nothing but a t-shirt, and my thoughts went to a place they’d never been before. She rolled over on her side facing me, and when she did her t-shirt slid up just enough so that I could see a small patch of pubic hair just above her pussy.
Double-checking to see she was asleep, I pulled down the sheet, slid down my boxers down and released my hard-on. I took all eight inches of my now-hard cock in my hand as I stared across the bed at my beautiful mother. I began to stroke up and down as I gazed upon her pussy lips. I knew it was wrong, but I pictured what they must feel like, taste like.
Within moments, the thoughts started to make my head—and my cock—tingle. I was close to coming, but just then my mother started to stir in her sleep, causing me to dive back under the sheets. I rolled over onto my side embarrassed by what I had been doing, and even more so, what I had been thinking.
The next morning, we went down to breakfast and things seemed normal. No matter how guilty I felt. My mother asked me how I slept, and I lied and said I had slept great. In between sips of coffee, I noticed a smile cross her face.
“What?” I said.
“Well, I’m surprised you could sleep at all with that huge hard-on you had,” she snarked.
Seeing the embarrassment on my face, she immediately tried to put me at ease.
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