The impossibly loud footsteps of my eldest son, David, were an earthquake that shook the walls around me. He made a surprisingly effective alarm clock — disturbing the sanctity of the bed I shared with his younger brother, Alex.
"Is he awake already?" Alex grumbled.
The morning sun had yet to poke through the tightly pulled blinds, but that never stopped David from stomping around like he owned the place.
I lovingly traced his forearm with my fingernails. "I think so, honey."
I stretched my sleep-laden limbs to their fullest, awakening the muscles necessary to drag my sluggish corpse out of bed. Before I could escape from under the covers, I was pulled back in by two long, slender arms wrapping themselves around my tummy.
Alex, younger than David by just two years, spooned me from behind with his half-hard morning wood prodding my backside. "Good morning, Mommy."
"Good morning, sweetheart," I cooed softly. "How did you sleep?"
Alex kissed the back of my neck. "Like a rock, thanks to you."
The love that we had built up over the last twenty-five years had been tried and tested from the day it began. Their father, whose name I refused to speak, had abandoned all five of us before the twins, Lane and Felix, had celebrated their first birthday. David was the only one with any real memory of the man, and even that was but a vague shadow.
I refused to pick favorites, but waking up in Alex's bed gave me a feeling of comfort that was unique among his three brothers. As the middle child between a dominant type-A and two younger, bratty twins, the penchant for slow lovemaking fell solely to him. I loved being with all of my children; they were each as different as grains of sand on a beach, and as such, I loved them all for very different reasons.
The duty of raising them fell solely to me. I was in every memory they had growing up; I made it so. I was willing to sacrifice anything if it meant making one more lasting memory with my boys. I never sought another relationship after my marriage fell apart and, instead, poured every ounce of energy and love I had into giving my sons the best childhood I could provide.
It was lonely, at least at first. I missed having an extra pair of hands helping with the mountain of upkeep that four boys require, but most of all, I missed having someone to curl up next to at the end of the night.
I had confided this truth to David on the night we celebrated his university acceptance, a few weeks after he had turned eighteen. The reality of losing my oldest child to the big, wide world had finally come crashing down and it scared me to death.
Some wires had gotten crossed and, in my state of vulnerability, I had allowed David to comfort me with a kiss that should have strictly been reserved for lovers, not a mother and her firstborn son.
"I should stop this,"
I remember thinking.
But I did not. In fact, it had gotten further out of hand than I ever could have imagined. One by one, as each of my sons turned eighteen, I had presented them with the same deal that I had given David, and one by one they had accepted it.
I would not find a man to replace their father, provided that they fill his shoes by filling — well, me! It should come as no surprise that, as per the nature of horny teenage boys, they were happy to oblige the request.
Lane and Felix jokingly referred to me as their 'Free-Use Mommy' over breakfast one morning and, though it was meant as a joke, I took the title very seriously. I was to be at the disposal of my young, rabidly hormonal sons, day in and day out, and I took to it like a duck to water.
They shared me like an expensive video game console that they had all pooled their money to pitch in for, and treated me with similar care. It may be considered objectifying to some women, but I thrived when my sons argued over who I would be spending the night with, who would be the one lucky enough to get their hands on me. I could pull the authority card at any moment, but enjoyed letting them feel a sense of power over me.
That morning, I found myself in Alex's arms, relishing the intense escapades we had gotten into the night before.
"You were spectacular, Mom. I wish we could do this every night!"
I reached behind my head, combing my fingers through his loose, brown hair. "Me too, honey. But the twins get to have me tonight, so you'll just have to wait your turn."
Alex grumbled with disappointment. "Ugh, fine. But for now, you're all mine."
I turned around to face him, but we were quickly interrupted by the return of David's imposing footsteps. He thundered down the hall, this time coming to a pause outside of Alex's room. My oldest son rapped on the door a few times, calling to us from outside, "Are you guys up yet?"
"No!" Alex hollered. "Come back later!"
David opened the door a crack and poked his head into the room. "It smells like sex in here."
I placed a finger on my lips. "Hmm, I wonder why that might be."
"Close the door, dumbass!" Alex threw a few pillows at the bedroom intruder.
David closed the door just enough to block the barrage of incoming missiles. Once Alex was out of ammunition, he opened the door all the way and stepped inside wearing a towel around his waist — but nothing else.
David turned his full attention to me, entirely ignoring his younger brother. "I have that interview in, like, two hours. Can you just jump in the shower with me really quick to help me unwind?"
My mothering instincts kicked in; my baby was scared and he needed my special brand of comfort. "Of course, sugar. Mommy will be right there."
"But Mom, what am I gonna do with
this
?" Alex threw off the covers, shedding light on his morning wood with a dismayed pout on his face. I had allowed him to spend the entire night with me, and even after extracting an impressive double orgasm from him he was
still
eager for more.
