I had just entered college and unfortunately found myself still living at home. I had hoped to live in a dorm, even though the small college I was enrolled in was local. I wanted so badly to be more independent and have the opportunity to bring girls back to my room without worrying about my parents walking in on me. It seemed to me, that my mother and father needed some space and time alone as they were drifting apart and I was clearly always there in our small home.
I was lying on my bed one night listening to music when my mother came in and sat on the end of the bed.
"I'm happy you decided to stay at home instead of moving into a dorm, you know with the way your father travels most weeks, I get lonely but I still have my big boy to keep me company. I personally thought it would be good for you to be on your own, but your father insisted," Mom said with a smile.
Mom reached over and rubbed my leg affectionately. I knew she was happy that I relented and chose to stay at home. It was saving us money and at eighteen years old I had plenty of time ahead of me to do as I wanted. I had agreed if I stayed at home for two years, then I could get a dorm room in my junior and senior years.
"Mom, I just thought you and Dad could use some space," I said as her hand lingered on my knee.
Mom looked at me as if she was pondering her next words, and said, "Matt, your father and I have all the space we can handle with his constant work travel, and when he's home he's always preoccupied with his own interests. I need more, at my age, I need more attention."
I felt Mom's hand move to my thigh as she looked at me. She was biting her lower lip as if she was anticipating a thought.
"What, Mom? What"
"I don't know how to tell you what I want to say. I don't want you to take it wrong. It was your father who really insisted you remain living here, I was actually okay with you going to college and having more independence."
I was confused but decided to just listen. Her hand remained on my thigh and it felt really good, it actually felt more than just Mom's hand on my leg. It was warm and she would occasionally squeeze me. I was beginning to feel the feelings of arousal. I could sense the swelling of my cock as her hand gently squeezed and moved up and down my naked thigh.
Mom continued, "Matt, this might sound inappropriate for a mother and son, but your father just isn't as passionate about me any longer, and I need more."
She looked at me sternly, more confident than I had ever seen her before.
"Mom, what, what are you talking about?"
Again, she looked at me with a peculiar look and bit her lip. I had seen her bite her lip for as long as I had been alive. It was always before she was going to say something that was difficult or challenging.
She began with a slight stutter, "Mmmm...mmm...Matty, I don't know how to say this, so I'm just gonna say it."
I didn't know what to think, I was confused, I wanted to say, "Just fucking tell me!" But I held back and waited.
"All right, I had this all planned out, how I was going to have this conversation, and now it seems so much more difficult. Matty, I'm a woman who needs attention, I need to feel another warm body against mine, my body needs to be touched and attended to...do you understand what I'm saying?"
I was confused, but I knew she was referring to my father's lack of attention. I have always felt I didn't get the proper attention from my father, I couldn't imagine how hard it was for her all these years without her man in her bed every night. I had grown up in a pretty open home. Nudity wasn't flaunted, but it wasn't hidden. I'd seen my parents naked all my life, and to some degree, the things we talked about had virtually no limits, so why was this conversation so hard for my mother?
I nodded my head and asked, "Are you and Dad getting a divorce?"
"No, we've come to an agreement," she said and then paused and looked at me again patting my thigh, nervously.
"What? What kind of agreement? What do ya mean, an agreement?" I asked.
"Well, your father's travel for work is not going to change and I told him my needs have to be met. I told him his lack of interest in me...his lack of attentiveness to my physical needs is no longer something I can tolerate. So we have agreed, when he's out of town on business I have the freedom to date other men. There, I've said it, please don't hate me."
I watched my mother stare at me. I wasn't sure if the look was one of confidence or a newfound freedom, but she looked defiant.
I felt her hand slide up my leg as she told me I had grown up to be a handsome man and she was proud of me. She said life isn't perfect and couples sometimes are forced to make adjustments. I just listened as the uncomfortable thoughts of her dating other men washed over me. I had always been closer to my mother and my sympathies usually rested with her, but now I questioned her desires and wants. I wondered if the reason my father insisted I live at home for another two years was because of what my mother was demanding and asking of him.
Her voice broke my thoughts as she said, "There's one more thing...My first date is tonight."