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.
“Don’t be embarrassed. If anything, you should be proud. I’ve never seen or been with one quite that big. Not to speak ill of the dead, but your father wasn’t exactly packing a missile down there.”
With those words, the mood definitely lightened. I was happy that she didn’t seem upset by what I had done the night before. It would’ve made for one hell of a long trip otherwise.
We drove to Copenhagen later that day and checked into our hotel. My mom had reserved a giant two bedroom suite with a full kitchen and living room. Our windows looked out across a divide at a fancy apartment complex. I thanked my mom for renting us such a nice place to stay for the week, and she joked that you can’t take your money with you when you die. Thank god she thought that way.
We decided to go to a small diner by our hotel for dinner, as we were both still a little jet-lagged and weary from our travels. We ate a small dinner, then decided to have a coffee at a coffee joint across the street.
The coffee shop was dimly lit with only a few people sitting at tables near a stage with a man playing corny songs on his guitar. My mom and I gabbed each other’s ears off about anything and everything. After a while I forgot we were even related. It felt like I was on a date or out with a friend.
At one point, my mother asked me if I was dating anyone. I told her I tried not to carry on any relationships after the school year ended, especially since I was coming home Chicago for the summer.
“That’s smart,” she said. “You’re too handsome to be tied down by some college girl anyway.”
I blushed and deflected her compliments.
“And with what you’ve got down there,” she said, looking at my crotch. “Something tells me you won’t have trouble making your next girl happy anyway.”
We sat in silence for a second before she excused herself and went to wait in line for the ladies room. As I stared at her standing against the wall in the back of the dark shop, I felt strange. I didn’t see my mother. Instead, I saw a beautiful, funny, intelligent single woman who I enjoyed being around. Sure, I knew that having these thoughts was wrong, but it didn’t change the facts. Something was happening.
Without thinking, I rose to my feet and walked over to where she was standing and stood in front of her.
She looked at me and said “Hi, honey…”