Pete lay on the mattress, feeling the warmth of Mom’s skin in his side. She’d gone silent, silent enough to hear the traffic outside. He gently rubbed her upper back as she continued to breathe steadily and regularly.

After a few minutes, he prompted, “Like it too much…?”

“Mmm… not like falling in love.” She snorted. “Not doing that.”

“Thank God,” he joked. “I mean, I love you—”

“But not that way.” He could feel her smile. “We’re not making love. We’re fucking.”

“Yep.”

“Yeah…. It’s good, and…”

“Too good?”

“Yeah.”

“Like how?” he asked.

“Like… you remember when you used to like McDonald’s hamburgers?”

“Loved them.” He smiled at the memory of going with both his parents for his birthday one year, back when things were good. He’d been… six? Seven?

“And remember when you discovered good burgers? Like from Tom’s Tavern?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

“So when was the last time you went to McDonald’s?”

“I can’t remember,” he admitted.

“So…?”

“Yeah. But…”

“But what?” she asked. She’s relaxed as they’d talked.

“Tom’s isn’t the only place I go for good burgers.”

It was her turn to chuckle.

“Besides,” he continued, “you said this was only when we were in Europe.”

“I did?”

“I thought so.” He gently rubbed her shoulder. “At least that’s what I understood.”

“Mmm… so… Tom’s burgers until we get home?”

He laughed. “Something like that.”

Her hand, that had been resting on his chest, started to slide lower. “Think you can go again?”

“You want another burger?” he teased.

“As many as I can get.”

***

Pete’s bladder woke him up just before dawn. He stumbled to the bathroom, and instead of standing to pee, just sat down on the toilet.

He was drained. And sore. His dick actually hurt after all the fucking from the night before.

He’d lost track of how many times Mom had come. He’d only managed twice more himself—once doggy-style and once in missionary. She’d tried to suck him hard after the last one, but he’d been too tired. She’d settled for playing with her clit until she came one last time.

His mom was insatiable.

Tom’s burgers indeed.

He finished and returned to the bedroom. Mom had rolled to her back and now snored softly. He sank into the one desk chair and watched her chest rise and fall.

He still couldn’t believe it. He’d spent the night fucking his mother.

A twang of guilt hit. He’d done some kinky things before—that girlfriend in college who’d been into spanking came to mind—but this was way, way out there.

But the egg was cracked, as Mom liked to say. He couldn’t exactly unfuck her.

And it was amazing sex.

Which raised the question… could he stop?

Did he want to?

He mentally counted the days left in their vacation. There was plenty of time before he had to make that decision.

Mom shifted, and the blankets slid down. Her legs parted just a bit and a gleam came into his eye.

He knew just how to wake her up.

***

Mom came out of the shower still drying her hair. She was nude and she grinned when she caught him checking her out.

“So what do you want to do today?” she asked.

“The London Eye, Big Ben, and shopping.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Shopping?”

“Lingerie.” He gestured at his crotch. “I should recover by dinner.”

She smirked. “I already brought some lingerie.”

“Then wear it. With a skirt.”

“Mmm… I will if you go commando.”

He laughed. “Deal.”

***

They actually did go lingerie shopping right before lunch, in this little boutique they passed. Mom didn’t see anything she liked, especially at the elevated prices, but they had fun talking about what might look good. The clerk only gave them a few confused looks. Mom only bought one outfit that she promised he’d see later.

On the London Eye, they shared their compartment with about a dozen other people, so while they enjoyed the view from the top of the carousel, nothing naughty happened. Afterward, they walked along the Thames mostly enjoying the view.

After a ways, the crowd thinned. Mom pointed to two empty park benches facing each other.

“Sit,” she said.

He chuckled. “And you’ll sit across from me?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Well, then.” He sank onto the park bench, leaned back, and crossed one leg across the other.

Mom sat across from him, first demurely, with her legs together. But then she tugged at her skirt, raising it a bit. She gave him a salacious grin as she brought it above her knees. She widened her thighs, but of course he still couldn’t see anything because of the angle. She glanced all around while biting her lip.

Then she yanked her top up, exposing her breasts.

He laughed in surprise.

She only held her top up a few seconds—long enough for him to realize she was wearing a bra—before she lowered it back down and gave him a faux-demure look.

“You’re a tease,” he joked.

She nodded toward something behind him. He heard voices and surmised someone was coming. Beyond her, he could see other people approaching as well.

If they were going to play flashing games, they needed some place just a little more private.

***

They didn’t find any good spots for flashing games around any of the tourist spots. It was just too crowded. Mom did pull off a brief up-the-skirt flash in the cab on the way back to the hotel, but Pete really didn’t see anything given the angle. The driver didn’t either, which was probably the point.

Mom modeled her new lingerie—a silky dark green teddy. He ended up fucking her in it before they fell asleep. The next morning he woke her in what was becoming the usual way—his tongue on her clit and between her lower lips until she came.

That day, they once again wandered the tourist areas. Mom slipped into a men’s shop to buy him a couple of cheap ties, ones that were definitely not his style. He started to object, but she shushed him, saying he’d thank her later. He waited until they were out of the shop.

“I don’t need ties,” he said.

“You will tonight,” she replied.

“For…?”

“Tying me to the bed before you fuck me.”

“Ah.”

“Your mom too kinky for you?” she teased.

Was she? He pushed the question out of his head and gave her a reassuring smile. “Absolutely not.”

***

He had fun watching her squirm as he played with her pussy. She pulled on the restraints around her wrist and moaned. He liked how she tossed her head side to side, but with her impromptu blindfold, couldn’t see a thing. It was kind of fun.

But only kind of.

He went down on her until she came, and then undid her bonds. Her wrists hurt, so they screwed missionary style until he orgasmed inside her. Afterward, she rolled on her side and was soon asleep.

Pete lay awake, wondering what the heck had happened.

It… it hadn’t been that good. He’d done it, and, yeah, he’d come, but… what the heck was he doing? Playing bondage games with his mother?

Maybe they shouldn’t’ve done this. Maybe they should’ve stopped after that first time. Maybe they shouldn’t’ve done it then, either.

But the egg was cracked.

And he was tired.  Wearily, he looked over at her. He wondered if she had doubts as well.

He couldn’t keep his eyelids up. He rolled to spoon her and let himself drift off.

***

He woke her “the usual way” the next morning. She came hard on his tongue and then gave him a very satisfied smile.

“I want my son inside me,” she purred.

He chuckled, but his cock twitched. He eased his way on top of her, and she lined him up with his opening.

“Come on, Motherfucker,” she teased.

He pushed inside.

She was as hot and wet as usually, but as she leered at him, she felt—better.

“Mmm,” she said.

“Oh, yeah.” He started slowly thrusting in and out.

“You like?”

“I like fucking my mom.”

“It’s nasty.”

He grinned. “Really nasty.”

“Mmm… yeah, so fuck your mom. Come on—fuck your mommy.”

His nostrils flared as his pulse raced. He sped up, stroking hard and fast into her. She wrapped her legs around him and urged him on. He was on the edge all too soon.

So he leaned forward and put his mouth to her ear.

“You like this?” he murmured. “You like fucking your son?”

“Yes…”

“You want your son’s come inside you?”

“Yes…”

“Tell me…”

“Give me your come!” she cried. “Fill me with your hot spunk!”

It was corny as hell, but his cock still twitched.

She winked at him. “Come on, Motherfucker."

He groaned and unloaded, filling her pussy. His legs went weak as the pleasure surged through him. She cried out with her own pleasure and clutched him tightly as she joined him in ecstasy.

He collapsed on top of her, doing his best to keep his weight on his elbows and knees. Slowly, he caught his breath.

“Wow,” Mom said. “That was so much better than last night.”

“For you, too?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s do more of this and less of that.”

She grinned at him. “Deal.”

***

They made a point of calling each other “Son” and “Mom” as they toured London that day. Mom saying “Son” didn’t work. It was a little weird since she’d never used it when he was growing up, so about mid-day she switched to “Peter,” which she had used when he was small. She gave up on that after the third time because she said it made her feel like a pedophile.

“I’ll fuck my son,” she confided when no one could hear, “but not a kid.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, not a problem for me, Mom.”

That night they went to a large pub that the concierge had recommended. The place was crowded, and a band played Scottish folk music of all things, but the pub cider was good.

They found a table near an impromptu dance floor and toasted each other because they couldn’t really talk over the music. Pete leaned back to watch the crowd and the dancers.

A cute long-legged blonde Pete’s age twirled with a gangly guy almost immediately in front of them. The guy kept frowning while she laughed merrily with every swish of her skirt. When the song came to a close, they stepped close, the gangly guy said a few words, and then he strolled off toward the restrooms.

“Ask her to dance,” Mom said. The din had faded just enough that she didn’t have to shout.

He stared at his mom with a confused look.

“Ask her to dance,” Mom urged.

Pete watched as the blonde made her way to a table near the back. He raised an eyebrow when he she sat, not at an empty table to wait for her dance partner, but at a table with two other young women, both brunettes. The three quickly fell to chatting and Pete turned back to his mom.

“We should dance.” He stood and extended his hand as the band started up.

***

They danced two songs, both fast, before sinking back into their seats, breathless. Mom grinned at him, but once again, they couldn’t hear each other.

The blonde returned to the dance floor, this time with a different guy. Pete and his mom watched one dance before she started tapping on his arm and nodding toward the woman.

Pete shook his mom off.

She tapped his arm again and he shook her off again. Then he stood and went to pay the bill. Mom frowned, but acquiesced.

***

“So what was that about?” Pete asked as they walked away from the pub. The night air was crisp and the sounds of traffic surrounded them, but at least they could hear.

“I… I thought you should dance with someone closer to your age.”

“But I wanted to dance with you.”

“But she was prettier.”

He scoffed.

“She was. Younger and prettier.”

“Not prettier. Besides, didn’t we agree that Europe was just about us?”

“Yes, but…”

“I like older women. Yeah, some day I want to settle down with someone my own age, but not today. Okay?”

She nodded, but he could see the insecurity in her eyes.

“When we get to the room, I’ll show you how much I like older women.”

She smiled.

“More than once,” he added firmly.

“Well, we can’t stay up too late,” she said. “We’ve got to leave early to catch our flight to Amsterdam.”