Quinn's Quickies 05: Missing Mommy

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I sat in the aisle seat, waiting impatiently for the door to hiss shut and the bus to start moving. Why wasn’t it moving? I scrutinized every face that came down the aisle. Were they looking at me? Had they seen through my subterfuge?

The middle-aged woman beside me, clutching her paper bag wrapped dinner, glared at my legs which jogged with nervous energy.

This was it.

Six months. That’s how long it had been since I’d last seen my mother, touched her, hugged her, kissed her lips. The interminable wait was finally over. It had to be over. I’d done everything I could think of. There was no way Brian would figure out what I was up to. Would he?

I thought back to what seemed like a lifetime ago, to the night Brian broke into our house and found us together. Me, with my cock buried deep in the embrace of my mother’s wet, hot vagina. Her, crying out my name as I poured a thick load of cum into her deepest inner recesses.

The shock. The anger. The recriminations and then, finally, the threats. Brian would never let it go. He would’ve taken my brother Ian away from Mom. Not because he wanted any part in raising his own son, but because he knew that would hurt her more than anything. It may have taken me a while to realize it, but Mom knew it in that very moment. While I was still reeling from Brian’s intrusion on our secret world, that brilliant mind of hers was already putting together an escape plan.

She’d been correct in her every prediction. Even though Brian could prove nothing of our glorious, incestuous affair he’d wasted no time in coming after us. He took it very personally and began hounding us relentlessly. The complaints he called into the police and social services were, thankfully, easily subverted by my mother. The people Brian sent after us were quickly, despite his claims to the contrary, able to establish she was a more than fit mother.

Still, I hoped he would grow tired and leave us alone. That hope died quickly when I had my last confrontation with Brian. Despite my mother begging me to stay away from him I couldn’t help it when I saw him parked in his douche-bag red sportscar outside our house. I marched up to him, ready to put him down like I had in Mom’s bedroom. Only this time, it would be for good. I was halted when I saw his grin and then, a moment later, a flash of metal from where he’d lifted the lapel of his jacket. Careful not to reveal it openly on the street, he made sure I had a clear view of the gun he wore tucked in a holster under his arm.

“Come on, kid. Just give me an excuse,” he chuckled, with no hint of humor, “No sucker punches this time. I’m ready for you.” The look in his eyes told me then that he was not going to ever leave us again. We’d humiliated him. He’d been cuckolded by his own stepson, and it was only a matter of time before he lost his grip entirely. I retreated, the blood in my veins running cold. I didn’t mention the incident to my mother, but after that, I did everything I could to help her prepare for her flight. There was no other way.

The only good thing was that Brian held off directly playing the incest card. He may not have had proof but if you fling enough shit some of it is bound to stick. Mom said it was his pride that stopped it. No man wanted to be publicly cuckolded and our particular brand of it would do nearly as much damage to him as to us. Nevertheless, the threat loomed large and I am certain he got off on knowing we were sweating over when he would drop the bomb.

There was no respite though, he hounded us relentlessly every day after his discovery. After showing me the gun there were no more confrontations in person but an endless stream of threats and abuse through Emails, phone calls, lawyer’s letters followed. When Brian wasn’t lurking outside our house in person he hired a low-rent PI firm to sit in shifts, watching us ceaselessly through unblinking camera lenses, just waiting to catch a slip-up.

It was agonizing being so close to her all the time, knowing that our time was running out, and being unable to pull her into my arms. The risk was too great, she reasoned. Just one picture or recorded conversation and Ian could be taken from her. We doubted Brian could have got a recording device in the house. But, his dogged persistence told us that we could not risk underestimating him.

It took her all of two weeks to get ready. Two weeks to wrap up an entire life. I felt like I’d barely caught my breath before the final hour was approaching and we were putting Ian down for an early nap. If all went to plan he was going to have a long and restless night.

Mom was in the hall closet, trying to get down some extra baby blankets to take with her. When I saw she couldn’t reach I stepped in behind her and grabbed what she was stretching for. For the first time in what felt like an age, our bodies brushed together. We’d been so good the last two weeks. It’d been torture, standing across from each other, needing to feel her skin on mine, and not being able to do it, even in our own house. I couldn’t even share her bed. For one thing, it made Mom too uneasy, especially after the last time we had been together. For another, I’d found the scuff marks of muddy shoes on the wall outside the bedroom window where Brian, or one of his goons, had been snooping around the house at night.

So, the touch of her body against mine, even through clothing, was electric. I felt her stiffen and then, as I froze behind her, she sank back, turning liquid against me. I took her gently by the shoulders and rotated her. Her beautiful face turned to mine and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes.

“Oh, Chase,” She mouthed the words more than said them. Her bottom lip quivered as she struggled to contain her emotions. I brushed her honey-colored hair behind her ear, then pulled her head into my chest. She wrapped her arms around my back and we just held each other like that for a long time, enjoying once more how perfectly we fit together. I inhaled the rose scent of her shampoo and felt myself growing instantly hard. She sniffled, took a deep breath, and then tried to tilt her head up to say something to me. I did not let her speak though, instead I captured her mouth with mine and gave her a kiss like a man lost at sea for weeks takes his first desperate gulp of fresh water. She met me with an equal need. Blindly my hand found the closet door and pulled it closed, our kiss never breaking. The bare lightbulb hanging above us cast our features into sharply contrasted shadows.

“I know we shouldn’t risk it,” She panted through hungry kisses, “But I just need you so much, Chase. I don’t know when I’ll see you again my darling, sweet boy. My love. We’re safe, aren’t we?” Her big eyes pleaded with me to say it was so.

I had no voice, I was choked with emotion and need, so I nodded and pulled her towards me again. It hardly mattered after tonight, if everything went to plan, she’d be gone. A pain stabbed my heart as I wrapped my arms tighter around her.

Her hands burrowed into my hair and she dragged me deeper into our kiss. Our bodies began to act on their own, writhing and rubbing against each other like a couple of horny teenagers having their first sexual encounter.

Her hands, normally so skilled, so self-assured, fumbled with my belt buckle. There was hardly any room to move in the cramped cupboard, so I held her close, not willing to let go. Not yet. If I stopped to think about it I knew it would seem ridiculous. How had we come to this point? How were we hiding in a cramped linen closet in our own house just so we could find a way to physically express everything we were feeling emotionally? How was it that my mother was really contemplating leaving and never coming back?

I hated Brian. I hated him for the pain he brought my mother, the neglect of my brother, and now the terrible threat he posed to our loving family every single day.

When the buckle finally came loose, Mom tugged my jeans roughly open at the front. “I need you so much, baby,” she whined. My cock came free of my boxers and her hand gripped it possessively. I tried to hold her as she began to sink to her knees. It really was enough for me just to hold her to me. But time was running out and her need was immediate. I cried out as she plunged, open-mouthed, onto my cock. Her hand still gripping the shaft she engulfed my head with a wet heat that scalded me with its intensity.

“Mom!” I gasped, trying to stifle it even as the pleasure overwhelmed me. I let my hands sink into her thick tresses and lightly held her head as she began to bob up and down on my length. She slurped on my shaft, taking the time to release it from her fierce vacuum and kiss it from tip to base and back up again. It was as if she were trying to build as complete a mental picture of my cock as possible by taking it in through all her senses. After a week of being cooped up inside with her and being unable to touch her, I was soon bubbling over with a need to release. But, if this was to be our last encounter for who knew how long, I had to make it count.

I used my hands to slow her before she devoured me beyond the point of no return. I pried her loose of my cock, though it pained me to do it, and I tried to lift her back up again. She resisted, her gaze darting like a dog having its bone dragged away, desperate for fulfillment but uncertain how best to get it.