Feeding in the food court

"Okay, so now we have some food for the next, uh..."

You lean over and look in the backseat of the car. Both seats are heaped high with bags full of densly-packed calories. A healthy person could probably live off of it for weeks (but would become considerably less healthy in the attempt).

Then you take a glance at your mother's gut. She's currently sitting in the passenger seat, which has been pushed back all the way to give her inflated body some additional space. Mom doesn't notice your lecherous gaze: she's too busy tugging at her dress, trying and failing to pull it down far enough to cover up the industrial-strength thong beneath.

"...Yeah, this should tide us over for the next couple days," you finish. "Here, lemme help you with that."

"That's okay, I--Oooh..." She trails off into moaning as you reach over and begin groping her, playing with her pussy through the tight fabric of her skimpy underwear. After a few strokes, you give her dress a half-hearted tug before starting up the car. "Th-thank you, Marcus."

"While we're out, might as well get lunch. I was thinking we could go to the mall and pick up some stuff... Workout supplies, that kinda thing. Wanna hit the food court?"

"Oh yes, I'm starving--Wait." The gears in her head begin to turn at maximum speed. "Shouldn't I eat less? Maybe I should skip lunch?"

Shit. Guess I shouldn't have let her clean my dick earlier, you think, before shaking your head. "No, Mom. It's super unhealthy to skip meals. We'll just... Make sure you eat healthy."

"Oh, okay. What's healthy at the food court?"

"Well, that's hard to say. Nutrition changes every day--You know how there's always something in the news about how stuff we used to think was healthy is bad for you now? Or the other way around, like how we found out butter's fine and margarine's bad?"

"Wha... Margarine's bad?" Her brow wrinkles. "But you put so much on my donuts the other day. You said it was made of plants--"

"Um, well, that's... Yeah! Exactly my point!" You give her an encouraging smile. "It's always changing! You're so smart, thinking of that example."

"Aw, thanks sweetie," she says, blushing a little. "Sorry for interrupting. Go ahead."

"Okay, so since we can never be sure what's healthy and what's not, the best thing to do is get lots of variety. That's hard to do at most restaurants... Mexican places only have Mexican, Chinese places only have Chinese..."

"...Delicatessens only have delicate stuff..."

"Right," you continue, stifling a laugh. "But at a food court, you can get as much variety as you want. So it's important to get something from every place there!"

Forty minutes later, you finally plop down into a seat next to your mother. The drive over to the mall had been short: most of that time was spent ordering and picking up food from the dozen-ish fast food restaurants in the food court.

Now the table is piled high with containers both full and empty, while your mom works hard converting that first category into the latter.

You notice that she has some sauce dripping down into her cleavage, so after dropping off the last batch of junk food (a big slice of pizza and her third milkshake), you lean in close.

"Hey, you dropped some," you murmur, before sticking your head between her breasts and starting to lick. She squeals with something between pleasure and embarassment as you really get in there, cleaning her off before motorboating her massive, half-exposed breasts.

"Um, thanks--Ah... Gentle, please," she gasps as you move her dress aside, nibbling on her nipple.

"Don't mind me... Mmph... Keep eating," you command between sucks.

She obeys, doing her best to keep shoveling noodles into her mouth as you root around between her tits like a truffle pig. She even manages to keep her fork steady as you extract your head and clamber onto her lap, ending up face-to-face while straddling her wide frame.

"Whuh ah ooh..." She pauses, then swallows. "_Mm--_What are you--"

"Gonna work up a load. Keep eating," you reply, pulling out your cock. It slaps down onto her chest, leaving a splat of pre-cum to match all the spit you left behind just moments ago.

Not wanting a dry-ass titfuck, you add to that mess by spitting a few times. Your mother sputters and looks like she's about to object... But you grab a napkin, lean in, and wipe her mouth.

"There. All good." You throw the dirty napkin on the floor nearby--And before she can object to that, you plant a kiss on her lips.

You're far from a romantic guy, but making out with Mom can be fun sometimes... Especially when your growing erection is rubbing up against her saliva-slick jugs. You bury your tongue in her mouth and begin thrusting, applying more and more **** until your hastily-lubed cock slips entirely between her breasts.

"Ummngh," you moan into her mouth. You don't know how many people are watching the perverted display, and you don't care. All that matters is Mom's tits--And her tongue, which begins to dance around your own.

"Mm--Mph-mm--" When you realize she's trying to speak, you pull away. "Ah... I thought I was supposed to keep eating?"

"Right," you moan, leaning back a little to allow the trail of spit that's connecting your lips to droop down into her cleavage. "Go ahead. Don't mind me."

With that you pick up the pace, fucking her rack as fast as you can without spilling all of the food she's holding to the ground. The pair of you spend the next few minutes like that: mother and son, glutton and pervert, eating and thrusting in a blur of decadence and debauchery.

Eventually, there's a voice from behind your back: "You're making a mess."

"Yeah," you grunt back. "Is there a problem?"

"Kinda. For me."

Glancing over your shoulder, you see a short Asian woman in a tidy uniform and a nametag that reads "Christine - Manager". She's standing there with her arms folded, pouting as she watches you titfuck Mom.

"Nah." You give her a smirk. "N-not yet--Ungh!"

"Please, please don't jizz all over my nice, clean floor," Christine snaps. "The mess is bad enough, but the fact that it's liquid gold... Insult to injury, dude."

"Fine," you grunt back. "Come swallow it."

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Christine walks over to where you're straddling Mom and squats down beside her. "I don't have all day, so--"

"G-gonna nut--Fuuuck!" pulling your cock out from between your mother's tits, you grab the uppity manager's head and shove your cock down her throat. A rope of two of life-saving medicine is lost in the process: one splats across Mom's face, while the other ends up in the poor girl's hair.

"Gmph! Mm..." The suddenly-deepthroating manager looks offended, but her expression softens a little as you spurt precious jizz down her throat.

Your mother, however, is less pleased: "Mph?" Swallowing a huge mouthful of burger, she gasps as she realizes what you're doing. "Muh--Mine!?"

"Relax Mom," you moan, using your new cocksleeve's throat to squeeze out the last few drops of nut. "You knew this was gonna happen, didn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

Pulling out of Christine's throat, you slap your wet cock against your mother's lips a few times. She's still looking pretty angry, but that doesn't stop her from taking your sticky shaft into her mouth to slurp up whatever leftovers remain.

"Mmm... You're on a diet, remember?" While you bask in the sensation of your mom's **** tongue-bath, you also take a moment to enjoy watching Christine storm off: she's got a pretty nice butt for such a skinny girl. "Cum's loaded with calories, so we're gonna have to be careful about your intake."

"Mph--I... I don't..." Mom looks beyond crestfallen as she pulls off your cock, not even bothering to wipe the spit and jizz from her lips. "Oh no... Nonono... I didn't even think about that!"

"Relax. That's what I'm here for," you reply sweetly, punctuating by slapping your softening member against her cheek. "I'll make sure to balance things out for you. Just... Temper your weight-loss goals a bit, okay? Oh, and your brain-loss goals, too. It's a give and take, y'know?"

"I... I guess so. And you're gonna keep track of it for me?" Some hope is returning to her eyes.

"Absolutely."

"And you won't... You're not gonna take advantage or anything, right? Even when I'm feeling all no-cummy-dummy, I'm still your mummy." She giggles a little at the rhyme, immediately distracting herself from the deadly-serious responsibility she's trying to impress upon you.

"Sure. Now finish your lunch," you reply, climbing off her. "...My big, fat fucktoy..."

"Huh? What?"

"Nothing!" With a chuckle, you pick up a hotdog and shove the end in her mouth. Her expression is a whole lot more pleasant than Christine's, when you did something similar to her a few minutes ago. "Eat up. Gotta go pick up all that exercise stuff before we head home!"

"Mhm," she mumbles between bites. "Thanks again for all your help, sweetie!"