The Available Mom Ch. 01

Chapter 1

We never expected to have four children. That wasn't the plan at least. I met my husband, Mike, in college when I was 19 in a study group of all places. I was never a party girl, no drinking, none of that, just all books all the time. I grew up in a very conservative, religious home, was home schooled and the transition to college was easy. I knew what I wanted to do and so I spent that first year in the library and with some other girls doing what I could do to get good grades and to get through school.

Then I met Mike. I wasn't looking for a boyfriend. Truthfully, I never had one and really considered myself more asexual than anything. It wasn't that I didn't like boys, I just didn't think about them, or maybe I was trained not to. It is hard to say at this point. But Mike was kind, fun and very forward. He didn't take no for an answer, but not in a bad way. He was just persistent, complimentary and he always showed up. So, after a few months, I agreed to go out with him and the rest was history.

We went through the year at a slow pace. He was fun but respectful and we didn't have sex. I felt strongly about my convictions and the goal was to wait until we got married. But during the summer, something happened. Something that would have made my parents crazy if they knew: Porn happened. It was out of my own curiosity and insecurity. I knew Mike wanted me, I could feel his hardness when we made out and I was beginning to grow curious. To be clear, I knew how things worked; I wasn't that innocent. But I was curious.

So one day, after Mike left I was on my bed and I just felt horny, guilty and curious all at the same time. So I did what I heard was something most men did: I looked at porn. What happened was entirely unexpected. I thought I would be repulsed or grossed out or shocked. But what really happened was I was hooked and then, for lack of a better term, I was unlocked. I realized that I was repressed and when I began to masturbate, I realized very quickly how much I needed it.

Later, in a mom's group, one of the women would joke about how sexual men are compared to women. I couldn't and can't relate. Ever since those early days, all I ever felt was a constant sense of want. When Mike and I began to have sex, it was something I wanted all the time. I stopped watching porn because I really just wanted the real thing and Mike was happy to oblige.

In those days our sex was frequent and spontaneous. Like all couples in those days, we experimented with different forms of birth control but anything that messed with my hormones made me feel crazy and so we settled on condoms. But the truth was (and still is) that I loved it when Mike came. There was something about the look in his eyes, the guttural and groaning sounds of pleasure that he made and the moment when I knew he had reached that point of no return that made me feel so erotic and sexual. To that end, I loved the feel, the taste and the weight of his ejaculate.

The first time he came into my mouth, it was so unexpected, so intimate and so incredible that I lost myself in the moment. It was like I was drinking in his desire, his lust and his masculinity. Looking into his eyes as he gave himself to me like that ushered in a level of arousal, eroticism, and intimacy that I didn't think was possible. Moreover, when he came in me for the first time without a condom, we both knew that condoms were getting in the way of the closeness we both needed. My body became hungry for it: Not just my mouth, but my pussy as well. I absolutely needed it.

Unsurprisingly, we found that we were pregnant shortly after our ditching of birth control. It was a heavy dose of reality and the weight of the consequences of our choices suddenly became very real.

We got married almost as soon as we found out and to this day I am not sure if my parents know when I was pregnant exactly. All of my plans and aspirations left when I had my first son, David. I thought I would go back to school once I had him, but it didn't happen. Then I was pregnant again with Tristan, then Caleb and then Alex. Four kids in seven years.

Mike's job had us moving every couple of years and the practical side of me knew homeschooling was the way to go. It was easier than changing schools all the time and since I grew up that way, it was very natural. Like all things, I threw myself into it and the boys and I had a great time. Those were demanding, hard years, but I would never change them. I was able to see my sons through all seasons of life and during the high school years, I was told the kids would drift away. Mine never did.

That helped a lot when Mike was away. I didn't always notice because I was just a busy mom, teacher, home maker and friend. Life was good. Many women wondered how Mike and I did it and the truth is, we made it work because we had sex. A lot. When Mike was home, we would be in the bedroom. Mike is the kind of man that only has eyes for his wife, and I am the wife that needs her husband to give it to her when he was home. After Alex was born, we agreed that Mike needed to get a vasectomy, so getting pregnant was no longer an option.

One evening after a particularly good, welcome home fuck, I went into the kitchen to get some water. I sucked and fucked everything I could out of Mike and left him to recover while I got some ice water. I wasn't wearing a bra, but the boys were out house so I wasn't worried. Also, we were relatively free about these things and, frankly, I didn't think about it. When I closed the refrigerator door, David was standing there looking at me. His eyes were big and I realized very quickly that my hard nipples were clearly visible through my thin shirt. I smiled at him.

He was 26, lived in town, but still came over most days like he lived with us. I loved it. I loved my boys all being home. David was outgoing, confident and direct.

"Sounds like Dad is home," he said with a laugh, recovering very quickly from his initial reaction.

"He sure is," I said as I took a drink. "What are you doing here?"

He looked away from me and said, "Came by to drop off dirty clothes. Then I am meeting Tristan at the movies."

I laughed. Yes, I still did his laundry. I am his mother. I loved it. All my boys needed me. "Ok, I am washing Alex's soccer stuff so you are going to have to wait until tomorrow," I said in my firm maternal tone. I walked past him and grabbed an apple from the bowl. I was wearing my white cami and short shorts.

I am 46, thin with hips from four babies and lots of palates. I have silver streaks in my black hair and breasts that hang lower than I would like. But that was the cost of breast feeding four hungry boys.

I felt David's eyes on me and I wondered what he thought about what he pictured when he knew his father and I were having sex. I took a bite from the apple and looked at my eldest with a smile. "I love that you and Tristan are going out tonight," I said.

David opened the fridge and took out the half empty bottle of orange juice. Thankfully he found a glass and filled it rather than drinking from the bottle like he normally did. I was ready to correct him and then smiled as I knew he respected. At least to my face.

"Yeah, he is having trouble since he and Amber broke up," David said. "I figured a good war movie would take his mind off things."

I smiled. "That's good of you." I didn't like Amber. She was very pretty, but she treated Amy Tristan like a servant. So I was happy when they broke up, but I also knew that Tristan was devastated. I was grateful that we were all so close and that we could support each other through these things. Not all families were this way.

"What about you, David?" I asked him as I took another bite from the apple. I leaned over the counter. The cool air felt good on my skin. I realized that David's eyes flashed to my cleavage and I stood up, feeling suddenly self conscious.

"I haven't met anyone right, yet," He said with a smile.

"Maybe you have unreasonable standards," I said with a laugh.

David winked at me and said, "Mom, you are the standard." He looked at me in that direct way that was distinct to him.

I shook my head and smiled. "It isn't mother's day, you aren't required to say things like that."

He kept looking at me. I felt the heavy intensity of his stare. I always felt so strong when David looked at me. "Honestly mom, you in your shorts and tank top is better than any girl I have met. You are beautiful, smart, fun and kind. I have never met a woman like you."

I gave him a soft smile. "David, you are too sweet. I love it and don't stop saying those things."

He kept looking at me and said, "I won't stop. Not ever."

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Mike went to bed early. Especially when he was back home. I tired him out and, if I am truly honest, I did that intentionally. It was important to me that he knew that his wife was waiting for him and insatiable for him. I made sure my husband's balls were empty and that he was exhausted. It made me feel like I was a good wife.

The problem was I actually was insatiable. I had read this happened to women in their middle years, but I didn't believe it. My sex drive had always been high, but in recent months it was at a whole new level. I knew it was hormones changing or rebalancing or whatever, but the truth was it was hard to think about anything without my mind finding its way to sex.

So, as was my newest habit, now that Mike was fast asleep, I was in the spare room with my laptop open watching porn. I found porn fascinating more than arousing. At first. It was easy to tell when the women were faking the experience and that bothered me. I knew there was an element of "performance" in it all, but I got nothing from those videos. Eventually I found scenes that weren't acting, but pure fucking. Once I found those, I loved them. I loved the connection, emotion and carnality that I saw. I got off on connection, intimacy and realness. I wasn't a slut. I had no desire to be with random men or hook ups or anything like that. I knew that porn was all fantasy, but part of mine was the intense connection between the people in the scene. That connection allowed for complete freedom in sex.

I masturbated to a climax watching a particularly sexy scene: It was a younger man with a middle aged woman. It was all eye contact, rhythm and connection. It was so hot.

I finished, closed my lap top and went into the hallway bathroom to wash my hands. I saw that Alex's door was cracked he was still up. So after washing my hands, I walked down and poked my head into his room. He was laying on his bed with his shirt off and looking at his phone. Alex was the opposite of David: he was quiet, insecure and a late bloomer. He was 18, more cute than handsome, but with a firm toned body from playing soccer for most of his life. He was my sweet boy. My treasure.

He looked up at me with his puppy dog eyes and said, "Hey Mom."

"Hey honey," I said pushing the door open. I wondered if he had any idea what I was doing just three minutes prior. I took a deep breath to focus on the moment. "What are you doing up?

He set his phone down and frowned, "Just not ready to sleep yet I guess. What about you?"

I knew my son. Something was on his mind. "You know me, I am a night owl," I walked in and sat on the end of his bed. "What is going on, sweetie?"

He looked at me for a long moment. "What's wrong with me?" He asked suddenly.

"What?" I asked with surprise. My maternal mind pushed everything away.

He looked away and swallowed hard. "I am nothing like David or Tristan or Caleb," he said.

I looked at him with concern and waited for him to continue.

"They are moving forward in life. Meeting girls. Getting big jobs. I am just, like, here. I work at a restaurant, play in a club soccer team and... I have never had a girlfriend."

I smiled brightly at him, "Honey, you are only eighteen. There is no rush on any of those things."

He frowned and replied, "David was in college at eighteen. Tristan had dated half his class at that point and Caleb was already through a bunch of college credits from all the AP classes he took." He paused and then said, "I am just so behind. I feel like... I feel like you and dad must be so disappointed in me."

A pang of hurt shot through me as I looked at my son. I slid closer to him and then moved all the way in and pulled my son to me. "Come here," I said. I pulled his head against my breast.

He leaned into me, the side of his head pressed against me.

I stroked his hair and he put his arms around me. I felt his fingers brushing some exposed skin wear my shirt had come up on my back. He didn't move his fingers from my skin. He felt warm, close and vulnerable. He needed me. I pulled him closer to me and I felt the warmth of the side of his face against the skin on my chest. The neck of my cami was pulled low, exposing more cleavage. He felt so close.

He didn't move. His hands slid just under my shirt. He was tentative and unsure, but I could feel his intention was to touch my skin. He needed to be close to me.

"I am here, honey," I whispered to him. I shifted my weight and moved one hand to pull the back of my shirt up for him. His hand brushed over the skin of my lower back and ran his other hand under the back of my shirt. "I am here, sweetie. I am not disappointed in you, Alex. I have never been disappointed in you."

He continued to touch my back and he pressed his head into the exposed cleavage as I spoke tenderly to him. I felt him move his head to the side and his cheek was against the skin on my chest. He was moving intentionally, but with timidity. I did not want him to shy away from me. I was his mother. So I shifted my chest, trying to press my partially exposed skin to his cheek.

"I just feel so alone sometimes, Mom," he said to me in a partial whisper. "Like I am invisible"

My heart was pounding. It hurt for him. I had no idea he felt like this. "Oh honey," I whispered. "I see you. I am here. What can I do?"

He took a deep breath and pressed against me. His hands ran under my shirt, up and down the skin on my back. "I don't want to be alone, Mom," he said. I felt the edge of his mouth on my skin, the warmth of his breath brushed against me.

"You aren't alone, baby. I am here," I said. My heart swelled and pounded.

His fingers brushed my skin and he moved his face, rubbing against my chest. More of his mouth pushed against the skin of my chest. He was almost facing me now, his face pushing into my cleavage. He mumbled into my cleavage. I felt the warm, wet of his mouth.

"Oh sweetie, I am here," I whispered to him.

He began to move his face to the left and I moved with him. With one hand I let go of his head and pulled down at the collar of my cami, exposing my left nipple. I clutched my breast and held it and Alex took the nipple into his open mouth and started to suck softly.

"I am here, honey," I said as I looked down at my eighteen year old son sucking my left breast.

His mouth was warm, gentle and I felt his tongue brushing over me. I gripped myself for him, so he could take in as much as he needed.

His hands roamed over my back and he moaned against my sensitive skin. He shifted his weight and I could feel that he was letting himself go with me. He took breaths through his nose and sucked my nipple, licking and massaging it with his tongue.

I was getting warm. As I clutched my breast for him I became aware that I was sweating. My right nipple was rock hard and perked. My heart pounded and I began to realize how good this felt.

Alex, pulled off my left breast. It gave a small pop as it left his mouth and he was breathing heavily just looking at it.

Without a word I pulled off my shirt entirely, fully exposing my skin to my son. My left nipple was red from my son's suckling. My heart was pounding and goosebumps formed all over my skin, only perking my nipples up even more.

He shifted to my right breast and started to kiss it. The warmth of his lips and the tiny tugs at my flesh from his teeth enticed me to grip that breast with my hand. He took it into his open mouth and sucked.

I let out a gasp at the sensation. It felt really really good. "That's it, Sweetie," I whispered to him. "Mommy is here."

He groaned at my words--the sound muffled by my breast in his mouth. He pressed against me, trying to take more of my flesh in.

"Yes," I whispered as I pressed my nipple in with one hand and clutched the back of his hair with the other.

My body was on fire. Tingling everywhere. I felt a dissonance of emotions and thoughts running through me, all a background to how good this felt. I knew this wasn't normal. But I didn't care. I felt him clutching and gripping the skin on my sides as he sucked my nipple.

He continued to give muffled moans as he sucked as if he was afraid that I would pull away. He moved more of his body against me. The position was so awkward but neither one of us wanted to stop. We couldn't stop.

I knew he was afraid I would stop him. I tugged at his hair and whispered, "Alex." I pulled his head back and my breast popped from his mouth. Memories, needs, hopes, desires and closeness flood through my mind and body. I gently helped him off the bed and I slid to the very edge, sitting up very straight.

He was on his knees, his face at level with my breasts. He looked up at me with longing and need.

"I see you, Alex," I said to him in a whisper.

He took a deep breath and pulled down the front of his shorts and I took a short breath as I saw his fully erect penis bounce up. "Mom," he whispered. I could see the vulnerability in his face.

I pulled his head close and he started to suck on my left breast again. He slid close to me and I felt a quick touch from his erection against my knee. I pulled his head tighter and he sucked harder. It felt so good.

He moaned and I felt his erection again on my leg. He was moving his hips in circles as he sucked.

I reached down and gripped my youngest son's penis and he groaned loudly--muffled again by my flesh in his mouth.

"I feel you," I whispered as I clutched his erection. "You are perfect, Alex. You are so strong."

He moaned and began to thrust his hips as he sucked my nipple.

I gripped him tighter and held my hand in place as he thrust. The ridges of his erection rubbed against my fingers and his balls slapped my hand. My body burned, my heart continued to pound and I looked down at my son. His eyes were closed and held a face of such pleasure. It was like he was feeling something that he had only dreamed of until now. My heart was ready to burst with love. This is exactly what he needed me for. I was his mom and he was my strong boy.

"That's it, Alex," I whispered to him. He started to thrust harder. He moved to my other breast at the same time. He kept sucking my breast deeper and deeper with more intensity. His thrusts grew more wild and urgent. I moved my other hand to his hip and helped him find a rhythm. "That's it, Sweetie. Fuck Mommy's hand. Show me how strong you are."

He moaned again and then continued to moan around my nipple. His hips move erratically, no matter how much I tried to guide him. He was trying so hard.

"Shhh," I whispered in his ear. Stopping his hips with a firm grip. "Let Mommy," I said through gritted teeth as I started to stroke my son's cock. "You feel so good. You are so hard for me. Let me take care of this."

"Ahh," he said as my breast popped out of his mouth. He gripped my breasts with his hands and looked up at me. "Please, Mom. Please."

I looked into his eyes and stroked him hard. My hand was slick with precum and I kept going. "That's it, Alex. Don't hold back. It's ok. I am here. Mommy is here. Show me what you can do. Show me what you have been holding in."

He swallowed and gripped my right tit harder as his hips moved. I felt like he was using my breast as a handle and it felt so good. His eyes started to shake slightly and I knew he was almost there.

"Yes, sweetie," I said to him in a sweet, but firm maternal voice. "I need you to cum for me. Give Mommy all that cum. Don't hold back. Don't..."

"Ah!" He yelped as jerked his hips and my hand grew warm as he began to spew his ejaculate.

Our eyes never left one another as I pumped my son's spurting erection. I moved in steady strokes and circles, turning my hand with each pump. The deeply satisfying feeling of his cock contracting and releasing told me I had found the exact rhythm he needed.

"Good. Good. Good boy," I said to him over and over again as I milked as much from him as I could. My hand, leg and shorts were covered in his semen, as well as the side of his bed.

Finally it was over.

We both just looked at one another for a long moment. "You aren't alone, Alex. Mommy is always right here. Like this. Ok?" I said to him and kissed his nose.

He smiled at me and said, "I love you, Mom."