Author's note:
This story began as a quick once-off, hence the name: "Quinn's Quickies." But I enjoyed writing it so much and got so much encouragement I wrote a sequel. This is now the 3rd in the series and I have several more planned. I am writing this for all the cool people who took the time to vote or write a positive comment, you really motivated me to keep going with this series. I don't reply to my comments usually, but I do appreciate all the feedback, so thanks, this is for you guys.
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I saw her from across the food court. You would think by now I would be used to the sight of her, I had known her my whole life after all. But still, the vision of my mother in a red, figure-hugging wrap dress made my heart painfully misfire.
There she was, absent-mindedly staring off into space, fingering the tip of the straw she had inserted through the plastic lid of her smoothie and all I could think about was how she handled my cock with the same delicate ease.
I had loved her from afar for so long it was still difficult to reconcile that she was mine. Mine in every way but one.
How I longed to bring our secret out into the light so the world could know she belonged to me and I to her. But they would never understand the hold she had me, on every aspect of my life, on every thought, and at every level. I worried sometimes that my love bordered on obsession, but that was how all the great loves were always described, were they not?
It was not too difficult to see why I felt the way I did. She was gorgeous. Flawless in my eyes. With curves that would have shamed Bézier into drawing right angles for the rest of his life. All of this was before you met her and realized she was the sweetest, kindest person in the world.
And she could fuck like the fate of the world depended on it.
"Damn, I have to be the luckiest guy in history to have her as my lover," I thought, wishing I could yell it out in the middle of that mall.
As I picked my way across the food court towards her I could not help but be aware of the eyes from all around us training themselves on my mom.
Not that they could have guessed she was my mom. I was born when she was a teenager and she worked hard to keep herself in shape, so she barely looked older than me. The only hint that she had a son in his twenties, and a nine-month-old infant at home, was the unmistakable, giant mom-bag she had tucked behind her crossed ankles. I knew that thing held pretty much anything a mom would need in an emergency, and a few more things besides.
She was easily the most beautiful woman within a hundred miles, the entire world, if you ask my opinion, but that wasn't the only reason she was drawing so much attention. I saw with an ache in my chest that her dress had a plunging neckline and her enormous breasts formed a deep and enticing cleavage that was causing some rubbernecking related traffic flow issues, especially on the balcony level above us.
My brother, Ian, was still breastfeeding and those tits in their current state should be on the list of natural wonders of the world. If we weren't in public I would have walked right up to her and buried my face between them.
She was so lost in her reverie she did not see me until I was right beside her and I lightly touched her shoulder. When she did notice me I fell in love again, as I seemed to every day, when she looked up at me through her light hazel eyes and gave me the kind of smile men have started wars over.
Her face seemed to light up from the inside when she said my name, "Chase!"
I grinned back stupidly, knowing I looked like a teenager having his first crush, but not caring. The joy I felt in her presence was so overwhelming it felt like it should be impossible to maintain. Yet my feelings for her only seemed to deepen, growing richer and more complex like wine in a barrel, as our intimacy grew.
I lowered my face and placed a kiss on her lips. I had intended it to be a chaste, greeting peck, but those soft lips, now emphasized with a subtly applied layer of red lipstick, the exact shade of her dress, were just too delectable.
I sank into the kiss and lingered there a moment too long. I felt her melt into it too, but then she suddenly stiffened and placed a warding hand on my chest.
"Chase," she hissed, "we're in public!"
"I know," I sighed, "but I can't help it, mom. You look so gorgeous." I leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "I just want to rip that dress off you and fuck you on this table until you come in front of all these people, screaming my name."
"Chase!" She squeaked as I gave her thigh a squeeze.
"Yeah, just like that," I chuckled.
I then tucked a strand of her honey-colored hair behind her ear and, in response to her unamused expression, continued innocently, "What? Nobody here knows us. We could just be another ordinary couple meeting for lunch." I slipped my hand into hers, which she had resting on her lap.
She gave it a small, sympathetic squeeze before letting it go and saying in a whisper, "I know Chase, but we are not an ordinary couple. Someone could see us and that could get us in a lot of trouble. Think about your brother."
"Okay," I submitted with my hands over my head, "Can you at least tell me why I am here, other than so you can torture me by walking around in public in that fucking sexy dress."
My mom had called me yesterday to ask me to meet her at this mall. My college was about an hour's drive from my house and I stayed in a dorm during the week.
Mostly.
These days I managed to find all sorts of excuses to sneak back home so that I could ravish my mom at night and be back in class by the morning.
This mall was about halfway between my college and our house, but it was not the most convenient, being a bit further south than some of the places that were accessible directly from the highway.
"Can't a mother have lunch with her son without a reason?"
"Mom, if I am coming to see you I don't need lunch. I would much rather be dining on your pussy and drinking your juices than bothering with this," I brushed a hand over the wrap and smoothie combo she had apparently already ordered for us.
My mom was on a bit of a health kick. I had told her that I found the curves that she had earned carrying my brother incredibly sexy, but she was determined to get back to a body type that only seemed to exist in classic men's magazines, and even then with a lot of photo retouching.
Her beautiful face colored and she glanced around to see if anyone had heard my pronouncement. There was still something in the way she moved or maybe it was the unusually withdrawn way she reacted to my affections, but I felt something was on her mind.
"What's wrong, mom?"
"Why do you ask that?"
"I know you. Better than anyone. You're not usually this distracted. Something is up." I accused, sitting down in the seat next to her.
"It's nothing."
