Incest/Taboo When No Woman Equals Mom

After reading Hypnotizing the Family, Literotica member Kelly Winters sent me several suggestions for continuing the tale. They were so good I thought they deserved their own story and with her blessing wrote what follows. I foresee three chapters. Thank you Kelly, all the best stuff here is yours.

As always, all story characters involved in sexual activities are eighteen years of age or older.
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* * * *​

Anna Richardson, M.D. and Ph.D. in Psychology, knew the young man sitting before her had an ulterior motive, but that didn't bother her, everyone has an ulterior motive. Finding it makes it easier to manipulate or, to use a kinder term, motivate people.

He'd just won the regional high school science fair being held at Princeton University with a project based on her work. It had been brought to her attention: she'd been impressed. He not only understood her research, he'd stretched it in an interesting new direction. After the ceremony she'd invited him to her office for a chat which was, after all, what he wanted.

"I submitted a resume for the internship in your lab for the fall semester."

As she pressed a button on her desk Dr. Richardson and said, "I don't recall it, let's see if my secretary can locate it. I've never considered a high school student for the position. You live fifty miles away. Could you be here two days a week?"

"For an opportunity like this, I'd find a way."

Of that Dr. Richardson was sure. His mother was Ivanka Washington. If this kid was anything like her, and he certainly seemed to be, he'd find a way

"Yes ma'am."

It was Rhonda, Dr. Richardson's secretary. She had come to Dr. Richardson fifteen years ago, at age nineteen, and was the best secretary Dr. Richardson had ever known. Smart, hard working, detail-oriented, and loyal, she was also sweet, personable, and stunning, with light brown hair, soulful brown eyes, a winning smile, and a body to die for. The problem: while Rhonda never let it interfere with her work there were always guys hanging around, trying to make time with her. Not wanting to take a chance on losing her, Dr. Richardson had designed the subliminal messages that danced across Rhonda's computer screen and ensured her sole interest in life was serving Dr. Richardson.

"Mr. Washington submitted a resume for the intern position. Can you locate it, please."

Thirty minutes later, during which time Dr. Richardson and Zachary Washington engaged in a wide-ranging conversation about his project and her research, Dr. Richardson's computer pinged. Dr. Richardson knew it would have taken Rhonda all of ten seconds to find the resume, the thirty minute delay meant Rhonda had divined exactly what Dr. Richardson wanted.

There were three references on the resume. Besides each Rhonda had written a checkmark with a plus, confirming all three believed Zach an exceptional candidate. Underneath those names Rhonda had written three additional names, people to whom Rhonda had determined, based on the project, Zachary worked with. He received the same high mark from each of them.

The final notation on the resume was next to the name Betsy Knowles, who had been an advisor for Zach's project. Betsy, an assistant professor at Columbia University, had been a trusted student of Anna's, a fact which Dr. Richardson assumed Zachary knew and which explained her appearance on the resume. Dr. Richardson did not believe in coincidences.

Next to Dr. Knowles' name was a checkmark with a plus, indicating he was an extraordinary candidate for the job, and a six-pointed star, which showed Betsy had not only slept with Zach, but that he was great in bed.

Dr. Richardson turned off her computer and Rhonda knocked on the door.

"Ma'am, they're closing the building. Do you need me to stay late?"

"No Rhonda, that will be it for today. Thank you."

As Rhonda left, Dr. Richardson said, "Mr. Washington, the air conditioning system shuts off in half-an-hour. Would you like to continue our conversation at my home," adding, although she was sure Zachary Washington knew exactly where she lived, "it's close to campus."

"Very much."

Betsy Knowles was right; he was great in bed.
​

* * * *​

Anna Richardson was a horny woman; she'd been a horny girl. Unfortunately, her parents, two brilliant academics, raised her in a world where only brains mattered and there Anna excelled; she was always the smartest kid in the room. However, awkward socially, she didn't get what she wanted most, those good-looking young men in her high school and college between her legs.

So she'd become fascinated by behavior modification; if she couldn't get guys through flirting or tight clothes or well-applied make-up, at all of which she was inept, maybe she could smart them into her bed.

She lost her virginity during her second year of grad school. While leading a tour of the lab for a group of visiting high school seniors she sat the cutest young man (and he was some cute) in front of computer video describing, like the others, the lab's work. Unlike the others, however his had an extra twist - a subliminal message that induced him to sneak out of the dorm in which his class was staying and into her bed.

Over the years Dr. Richardson acquired the social skills her parents neglected to teach her. She was single, successful, and, at age fifty, quite attractive; she took good care of her body and taught herself fashion and make-up. However, she was emotionally frozen. Men her age didn't interest her; she yearned for the hunky young men who'd ignored her decades ago. So each semester and summer an intern was selected for her lab and, with a single exception, after appropriate modification, her bed. That exception was Zachary Washington. He didn't require modification; he was made to order.
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* * * *​

Zach checked the clock; it was time to get over to Dr. Richardson's. He was close, but the final steps in the programing still eluded him.

"Zachary."

He looked up, checked to make sure they were alone, for only he was allowed to call her anything other than Dr. Richardson and then only in private, and said, "Hello Anna. I was just shutting down."

"Don't," she said, "I've followed your work. It's quite brilliant."

"Thank you."

She looked at him; she'd expected more of a reaction.

"You knew I was watching?"

"It would be more accurate to say I simply assumed you were monitoring what I was doing. I doubt anything happens in this lab you don't know about."

She smiled, he was right, then continued, "I noticed you weren't trying to disguise what you were doing. Were you looking for my input?"

Zach said, "If I got absolutely stuck I would have come to you, otherwise I figured you'd give it to me when you were ready, when you decided I needed it."

"You're correct, I've enjoyed watching your progress, but at this point I think it best to save you some time, especially since your internship ends soon. You've outlined three solutions to your problem. Based on tonight's work it appears you rejected option one."

"That's correct."

" I'd suggest you skip number two. It won't work either. Option three, however..."
​

* * * *​

On his final day as an intern Anna and Zach were in her bed after a lazy afternoon fuck, Zach's cell phone lying between them, a bottle of champagne ready. At exactly 2:06, not 2:05 or 2:07, Zach's father called.

Zach put the phone on speaker.

"Hey Dad."

"Hi son. I was just sitting here, well actually I'm standing, thinking about my special son. I decided to call and let him know."

"Thank you Dad. Is Mom there?"

"She's upstairs. Do you want me to get her?"

"No, that's not necessary. If it's okay, Dr. Richardson wants to take me to dinner tonight to celebrate my last day. I'd spend the night in her guest bedroom."

"That's great son. I'll let your Mom know. Tell Annie hello from me."

As Zach's father hung up the phone Anna handed Zach a glass of champagne. His father had followed the script laid out by the subliminal message on his computer to the letter.

Robert Washington hung up the phone, confused. Why had he said Ivanka was upstairs? She was at the office. Why had he said he was standing when he was sitting? Why had he called Dr. Richardson, Annie, he knew the name was Anna. But he didn't wonder for long, for the conversation, per the subliminal message's instruction, was already fading from his mind.
​

* * * *​

Thirty minutes later, at exactly 2:36, Zach's cell phone buzzed. Zach, who'd just put down his glass of champagne, pressed the speaker button.

"Hey Mom."

"Hi son. Your father called. I wanted to let you know when you get home tomorrow we'll be at a reception for the Connellys' at the Roosevelt Hotel. Also congratulations on your last day as an intern, make sure to say hello to Dr. Richards for me. And don't tell her, I want it to be a surprise, but her lab will receive a generous donation from the foundation at year's end."

"Our secret Mom. Love you."

"Love you too."

Anna and Zach tipped heir glasses together; Ivanka had followed the script, word for word.

Ivanka, like her husband, turned off the phone, wondering. The reception was at the Waldorf, how had she gotten that wrong? The name was Richardson, not Richards, she knew that. Was she was working too hard? But, like her husband, these thoughts didn't bother her for long. Except for the part about the donation, the conversation disappeared from her memory.
​

* * * *​

After finishing the champagne Anna Richardson reached for Zach's dick and said, "Instead of going out to dinner, let's order in."
​

* * * *​

Zach Washington knew his friends would have thought him odd, or maybe just willing to whore himself for a job, if they knew he was sleeping with Anna Richardson instead of chasing all the available pussy their own age, but that wasn't what Zach wanted. He preferred successful older women and it didn't require an experimental psychiatrist to explain why. His mother was the model for all of them.

The daughter of a real estate developer, Ivanka graduated high school in two years and the Wharton Business School in three. While there she created a software program that allowed individuals and owners of small businesses to design their homes and offices. Several of her father's friends funded her start-up, the most important of whom, Robert Washington, was twenty years her senior. He'd made his fortune building waste water treatment plants and, even more lucratively, completing his competitor's failed projects. There was a lot more money in fixing other people's screw-ups then building them yourself.

When Ivanka and Robert married she was carrying Zach.

Ivanka made millions with her software. She made even more with her houseware products, then multiplied that by moving into jewelry, clothes, handbags, shoes, and accessories.

She spoke, in addition to English, French, Spanish, Czech, and Russian. Personable, well-spoken, brilliant, she served on numerous boards and championed opportunities for women in business. Supremely well behaved, no matter the intensity of the fracas, her take-charge attitude and soft mellifluous voice calmed all who heard it.

And she was beautiful. In her teens and early-twenties she'd walked runways and done advertising campaigns for top designers. She was the subject of a stream of feature stories in business and other publications; magazine publishers found sales spiked when her face appeared on the cover. And although in her late thirties, the gym rat in her had ensured she remained breathtaking, carrying 135 pounds on her hourglass five feet eleven inch 40-27-36 frame and "D" cup breasts.

No, Zach did not need a psychiatrist to explain why he was attracted to older women, they resembled his mother. What he wanted, however, was not women who resembled his mother, he wanted his mother. It'd seemed hopeless, then he read Dr. Richardson's research.
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* * * *​

Zach had long ago hacked into his parents' phones and computers, looking for the crack needed to put his plan in place. He found it in his father's texts to a few close friends complaining about the demands put on him by his wife's ascending star. The sub-text was clear. While Bob Washington was proud of Ivanka, he also wondered whether he could keep up with his dynamic younger wife. Zach could use that.
​

* * * *​

At the office Ivanka attended meetings, took phone calls, worked on her computer, and found herself increasingly distracted by the steady burn between her legs. Ivanka liked sex, she liked it a lot, but it rarely interfered with her work, but it was today. She'd read women reach their sexual peak at her age. She didn't know whether it was true, but right now it sure felt like it.

She got a text from her son. He'd be hanging with Kathryn tonight. With Zach out... She called her husband and in her best bedroom voice said she'd bring home a bottle of wine.

After Ivanka hung up the phone she turned back to her computer, absorbing the subliminal message, "YOU ARE AROUSED. YOU ARE ENTERING YOUR SEXUAL PEAK," that flashed across her screen a thousand times a second.

Bob also liked sex, but while Ivanka preferred strenuous hours in the bedroom, Bob favored quickies. That's where his secretary Trixie, always ready for a three minute blow job or five minute fuck, came in. Bob figured Ivanka knew about it, but also knew Trixie wasn't a threat to their marriage and was willing to let Bob have a little circumspect fun on the side. He replayed the phone call in his mind, that sweet sexy soft voice, Bob couldn't recall her ever sounding this ready. He buzzed Trixie, told her she needn't work late, then looked to his computer and its subliminal message, "IVANKA IS ENTERING HER SEXUAL PEAK. AT YOUR AGE YOU WILL NO LONGER BE ABLE TO SATISFY HER."
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* * * *​

Running blueprints through his head, Bob was trying to stave off his orgasm. Ivanka had come twice, small ones, and both knew there was another one, the big one, lurking inside her. Normally he had no trouble going this long, but his dick was so sensitive tonight.

She started bucking under him, clutching him to her, moaning his name, then she came. Grateful to have lasted this long Bob spilled himself inside her, but with more a sense of relief than pleasure.
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* * * *​

The next day Ivanka, subliminal message pulsing on her computer, was wondering whether her husband could take the afternoon off. She was supposed to chair a fund raiser that evening which would keep them out late; she needed to be fucked now. She checked her calender. She'd ruffle some feathers but there was nothing she couldn't cancel.

She called her husband, purred, "Darling, how about a rendevous at the apartment this afternoon? Zach won't be home."

Bob looked to his computer, the message flashing across it - IVANKA IS ENTERING HER SEXUAL PEAK. AT YOUR AGE YOU WILL NO LONGER BE ABLE TO SATISFY HER - having filtered into his unconscious mind, knew he wasn't up to another long fuck.

Recalling the old days, when he could fuck his secretary and go home and service his gorgeous wife, he told a white lie, "I'm sorry dear, too busy."
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* * * *​

At the fund raiser Ivanka was, as always, appropriate. Still Bob knew his wife well enough to read the signs, she was on fire. He was happy Zach was hanging at home tonight with Kathryn, his current girlfriend. It would give Bob the excuse to skip the sex.

At home, however, Zach, the glow on his and Kathryn's faces leaving no doubt what they'd been doing, said, "Kathryn learned today that she's being transferred to her firm's Hong Kong office. It's a huge promotion. Some friends invited us over to celebrate. Is it okay if I go, I hang out a little late tonight?"

Bob, knowing how Ivanka would want to use the time, was about to object, it was a school night after all, but Ivanka spoke first, "That's fine son. Take your time, have a good night. Kathryn congratulations."

Ivanka gave the young woman a congratulatory hug; she could smell the sex on her.
​

* * * *​

Bob was on top, rocking his body into Ivanka. They'd just started, but he was already running job specifications through his mind, trying to stave off his orgasm, then, his balls boiling, he came, an act vastly more embarrassing than pleasurable. He tried to keep going, but his shrunken dick, supersensitive in the wake of his ejaculation, would have none of it, the walls of his wife's sex was excruciating. He pulled out.

"I'm sorry dear, I don't know what's wrong with me tonight."

Although frustrated, Ivanka held her husband and said, "It's okay dear, a lot of stuff at work?"

"Yeah."

Once he fell asleep, feeling a bit guilty, Ivanka retreated to the guest bedroom and brought herself off with her fingers. On the way back she stopped in her office to check incoming mail. The subliminal message flashing across the screen was undetectable to the conscious mind: "KATHRYN LOOKED VERY HAPPY, YOUR SON MUST BE QUITE THE LOVER."

Back in bed Ivanka thought about Kathryn. The woman had been positively glowing, her son must be a skilled lover. Hadn't she read men his age were at their sexual peak?
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* * * *​

It got worse. Over the following weeks Ivanka was aroused all the time. Her husband, however, was increasingly unable to perform, usually unable to achieve an erection. He'd always been an indifferent pussy eater and while he used his fingers on her, they were no substitute for cock.

Spurred by the subliminal messages, Ivanka also found herself becoming fixated on Zach and Kathryn. She knew her son was sexually active, she'd made sure Bob had the birth control conversation with him, but otherwise had tried not to think about it, but now when she came home to their flushed happy faces she'd wait for them to leave and visit Zach's bedroom, where she'd enjoy the primal smell and touch the rumpled bed and still warm mattress. Those two were devoting their last few weeks to the carnal side of life, but, Ivanka thought, hadn't that always been central to their relationship.

When Kathryn first appeared Ivanka had been concerned. Why was this beautiful attorney dating a high school student ten years her junior. Was she after the family money? She'd obliquely approached Zach about it, but Zach, discerning what was on her mind, assured her he was far too young to make a life commitment, that he and Kathryn clicked, they were having fun, but they'd both would move on, she with her career and he with school. Ivanka left the conversation comforted, and convinced Zach and his contemporaries had a far more open attitude towards romance and sex than had she.

On Kathryn's final night in town Ivanka and Bob took she and Zach out to an early dinner so they could attend a going away party and, Ivanka assumed, return to Kathryn's place for a fiery final fuck.

That night, thoughts of Kathryn and Zach's entangled bodies bouncing around her head, Ivanka took Bob's penis in her mouth, but despite her best efforts (and Ivanka was good) Bob could not manage an erection. He used his fingers on her, but Ivanka had to fake it, no orgasm possible amidst her mounting frustration. It wasn't even a convincing job of acting and Bob, embarrassed, mumbled something and drifted off to sleep. After Ivanka and her new vibrator visited the guest bedroom she want to check on Zach. He wasn't home and it was two hours past curfew, but Ivanka knew she'd let it slide. At least one woman was having fun tonight.
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* * * *​

Ivanka was sitting in a boring meeting. She and Bob had finally had that heart-to-heart conversation; he'd see a urologist. That decision had taken sex off the table, they'd wait for a medical explanation, but for Ivanka something else was missing. Bob no longer looked at her with that gleam in his eyes, the look that said that, even after years of marriage, he thought her sexy and desirable. She thought she understood why: thinking of her as a sexual object now only shamed him, reminded him of his inability to perform.

And while Ivanka felt badly for her husband, she also felt badly for herself. She was as horny as a goat and while masturbation was nice, it could not substitute for what she needed: a man's covetous looks, his hard body atop her, his dick driving inside her.

"Ms. Washington."

"Oh, I'm sorry, what was the question?"
​

* * * *​

Zach, needing to borrow Rhonda and a faux boyfriend, had called Anna Richardson. They met a week later when Dr. Richardson was in New York to deliver a paper at conference. After a long afternoon Dr. Richardson was stepping out of the shower when she heard Zach hang up the phone. She checked the time and asked, "Was that your Mom?"

"Yeah, the subliminal messages worked perfectly; she called right on schedule. She and Dad were going to Hamilton on Friday night with the Johnsons, but Brenda Johnson just happened to start feeling sick, called Mom, cancelled, offered Mom the tickets. Mom, who just happened to be thinking that I've been moping around the house since Kathryn left town, called and asked if I could grab a date and go with them. I told her the good news, that Rhonda was in town, that I was going to take her to dinner that night to thank her for the help she gave me when I was an intern, that I'd love to take her to Hamilton."

Zach gestured to the table next to the bed. "I think that guy, Matthew, is perfect."

Dr. Richardson sat on the edge of the bed and picked up her tablet. "It's who I'd have chosen. He'll do what you need, the programming was especially effective on him, plus he's gorgeous, sweet, smart, twenty-five, and an Army Ranger to boot. He was my favorite intern until you came along."
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* * * *​

Wanting to shower and change before the show, Bob and Ivanka left their offices early, but by then the subliminal message, "YOU WILL ADORE RHONDA AND INVITE HER TO SPEND THE NIGHT," had already taken root. Once home, Bob told Ivanka the bad news, the urologist had confirmed the problem was not physical, something Bob already knew, he could still get it up for Trixie (although, thankfully, she never required more than five minutes) and prescribed Viagra which Bob would dutifully take over the following weeks and which would be no match for the millions of subliminal messages that had colonized his mind.

When Zach brought Rhonda to the apartment for drinks before the show neither Bob nor Ivanka were quite ready for what they saw. Although they knew they'd like her, they invariably liked Zach's girlfriends, Zach had told them she was Dr. Richardson's secretary and they imagined a young fun good-time girl, but undereducated for their brilliant son. Instead Rhonda was bright, well-dressed, articulate, and striking. When the discussion turned to Dr. Richardson's work, Rhonda demonstrated an intimate understanding of it; she was clearly more departmental administrator than secretary. At the theater Rhonda not only delighted in the show, but displayed a detailed knowledge of Alexander Hamilton's life, helping to place the musical's events in their historical context for her companions.

She was also, Ivanka noted, in her mid-thirties, only a few years younger than Ivanka herself. Kathryn hadn't been an aberration, her son preferred older woman. And they liked him, but why not, her Zach was uncommonly mature, bright, sweet and kind, good looking and, recalling Kathryn's happy face, apparently quite the lover.
​

* * * *​

Back in the apartment, Ivanka had invited Rhonda to join them after the show, the women were in the kitchen pouring four glasses of wine. In the living room Bob said to Zach, "She's a beautiful woman Zach. How old is she?"

Zach said, "Thirty-four," then answered the unasked question, "I like them older Dad. There's less pretense, they're more experienced. And let's face it, I've lived with Mom all my life. I'm used to beautiful and sexy older women, it's my norm."

Distracted, his mind on the beautiful Rhonda, Bob said, "So you think your Mom's pretty?"

"Pretty, no Dad, Mom's stunning."

Ivanka and Rhonda joined them, they had one glass of wine, then another, and Ivanka, noticing the time, said, ""Rhonda, it's close to two in the morning and we've had a lot to drink. Instead of having Zach escort you back to your hotel, why don't you spend the night in our guest bedroom. I have pyjamas that will fit you."

After declining the offer as too generous, Rhonda assented.
​

* * * *​

In their bedroom Ivanka and Robert checked messages. Flashing across Ivanka's screen was, "WATCH ZACH AND RHONDA TO SPEND THE NIGHT. IT WILL TURN YOU ON. YOUR SON IS A STUD." The subliminal message on Bob's screen was similar: "WATCH ZACH AND RHONDA. YOUR SON IS A STUD. YOU NO LONGER ARE."

Ivanka crawled into bed next to her husband and Robert, feeling inadequate, thinking about what Zach had said, decided to share it with his wife. She might enjoy the compliment.

"It seems our son likes older woman. I asked hm about it; he blamed it on you."

"What do you mean?"

"He said living around you has taught him that older women are beautiful."

"He really said that?"

"Sure did."

Smiling at the compliment - at least one man in the family appreciated her looks and how hard she worked to maintain them - Ivanka clicked off the light and wondered, was Zach in Rhonda's bed right now? Were they making love? She certainly would have at that age. She considered reaching for Bob's dick, trying to get him hard. But no, when it didn't, and it wouldn't, it would only shame him.

Bob was also thinking about sex. Earlier in the evening, staring at Rhonda, he'd hardened, but now in the company of his wife he was flaccid. He could tell she was aroused, hell, as of late she was always aroused, sneaking off to masturbate when she thought him asleep. He reached for his dick, stroked it, nothing happened. He knew the problem was in his head, he got it up for Trixie, but her needs were simple: happy to please her boss with a quick blow job or fast fuck. Ivanka, she was more complicated. At one time he'd been her guide and mentor in the business world, now she'd surpassed him there. In the bedroom it was even worse.

Still, he loved his wife, wanted to keep the marriage intact and, for the first time wondered: if he couldn't satisfy her, would she look for someone who could?

He thought about Kathryn's happy face. Zach didn't have any trouble performing. Was he in the guest bedroom right now, fucking Rhonda? Yeah, of course he was.

Ivanka felt him stir and said, "You having trouble sleeping?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think those two are..."

"Yeah."

"Would it be wrong to check on them?"

"Yeah, but I won't tell on you if you don't tell on me."

The guest bedroom door was open, not a lot, but enough. Rhonda was on all fours, Zach taking her from behind. She was no screamer, more of a whimperer, and her face was etched with joy as she whimpered through orgasm after orgasm.

Bob was hard. They hurried back to their bedroom, but after a dozen thrusts Bob's dick grew hyper-sensitive and he ejaculated. Humiliated, he apologized, but Ivanka said it was okay, kissed him, held him until she thought him asleep, then headed for the shower. Both of them knew exactly what she'd do in there.
​

* * * *​

At breakfast the next morning Ivanka noted Zach and Rhonda's happy smiles, knew that's what a night of great sex does for you, felt a burst of frustration at her husband, would he ever make love to her like that again?

After eating Zach said he'd walk Rhonda back to her hotel. Ivanka checked the time, figured the two of them could get in one more roll in the hay before she had to check out. Bob, embarrassed afer last night, said he was going to the office to review the plans of an Idaho waste water treatment plant a competitor had bungled; Bob had been contacted about taking over the job.

Ivanka spent the next ninety minutes working with weights, the memory of Zach and Rhonda's intertwined bodies replaying in her mind, thinking about what Bob had said; was she really the reason Zach preferred older women? Kathryn had been a decade older than Zach and Rhonda only a few years younger than Ivanka herself. Zach did like them older; Ivanka wondered, could she, like Rhonda, still make an eighteen year old do a double-take?

She was scheduled to meet a friend for coffee. Checking the clock, seeing there was enough time, she stepped into the shower, masturbated, taking the edge off the ache in her loins, and put on black thigh high boots, leather pants, and a long sleeved blue and white stripped shirt, then checked herself in the mirror; it was the look she wanted, classy, elegant, and very sexy. She combed her hair back, grabbed some sunglasses, and turned off her computer and its subliminal message: "YOU WANT TO KNOW IF YOUR SON THINKS YOUR ATTRACTIVE. IT WILL TURN YOU ON IF HE DOES."

Zach was downstairs. She told him she was going to a meeting, she'd be back in a few hours, and walked across the room, watching his eyes in the corner mirror. They followed her, took in her butt and legs. It was an admiring respectful look, held for a single beat too long, but he was looking.

Her husband had been right, Zach thought she was attractive.
​

* * * *​

Displaying her extraordinary powers of concentration, Ivanka was fully focused during the meeting, but on both the way there and home she was troubled. When she saw Zach checking her out she felt it, an undeniable sexual charge.
​

* * * *​

That night Ivanka knew she shouldn't, but did it anyway. She put on a sheer bra, one with substantial underwire support, and a purple dress that accented her spectacular curves. It also had a special feature, if she leaned forward in just the right way, someone sitting or standing in front of her could scan the top of her breasts. Long conscious of men's eyes on those breasts, she'd long ago learned when to offer a peak, and when not to do so.

Turning off her computer and its subliminal message, "DISPLAY YOURSELF TO ZACH, IT TURNS YOU ON," Ivanka told her husband she'd be waiting for him in Zach's room.

Zach's door was open. "Hello darling, I wanted to come say good night, we're going to the museum opening, we'll be out late."

Zach stood, said, "Have fun," scanned her up and down and said, "Mom, you look great."

She stepped towards him, kissed his cheek, said, "Thank you darling, it's nice to be appreciated," then bent down and pointed at something on his computer screen. "What's that?"

Zach leaned down to explain, but Ivanka didn't hear his answer. Instead, following the reflection of Zach's eyes in the screen, she saw them flash across her breasts, register happy surprise, then look back up, ready for hers when she turned back to him.

Her sex tingling, she leaned against the edge of Zach's desk, let a leg emerge from the slit of her dress, and said, "I really liked Rhonda. I hope we can get together with her again."

"I'm sure that can be arranged, but don't get to attached Mom, she's a short term thing."

"What do you mean?"

Zach paused, screwed up his face. He wanted his mother to press him to answer.

Ivanka bit, "What is it? Is she a Russian spy about to be deported?"

Zach sat down. "No Mom, its just a little, unconventional, I wouldn't want you to think less of her, or me."

She kissed the top of his head, giving him another peek, and said, "I promise I'll be open-minded."

"Well Rhonda has a boyfriend. His name is Matthew. He was an intern, like me, three years ago. He graduated last spring, went to Army Ranger school, finished first in his class. I've met him a few times, great dude. Well he and Rhonda have this...," Zach paused, took a second to find the right word, and said, "arrangement. They both really like..." another pause, another search, "they both have high sex-drives and don't see a reason to deny themselves. When he goes overseas they both chose a...," another pause, "companion, someone who understands the rules and limits. Rhonda and I got along great when I was interning, she heard Kathryn had left town, so she asked if I'd fill in. The weekend we went to Hamilton, she dropped Matthew off at the airport. He was headed for Afghanistan."

It would take all evening for Rhonda to process the thoughts flooding her brain: (a) Her son was no longer a boy, he was a man, a fully sexual being; (b) Her son, filling in for an Army Ranger, must be quite a lover; (c) The world had changed, people were constructing romantic and sexual relationships that suited their needs regardless of society or history's rules; and (d) Fidelity was no longer necessary, both Rhonda and Matthew accepted the other's need for sex.

At that moment, however, all Ivanka could think to do as Bob called for her was to say, "See you later son," kiss his cheek, turn to leave, and look in the mirror to catch Zach's eyes on her butt.
​

* * * *​

Zach was asleep when Ivanka and Bob got home, which was good. After an evening of feeling men's eyes on her Ivanka's already exaggerated libido was on the warpath. She put on a sheer nightie that displayed her formidable charms and looked in the mirror. She was a beautiful woman at the peak of her sexual powers married to a man who couldn't perform and barely looked at her anymore. Maybe this was the night when Bob's fricking medicine would kick in, if not he could use his fingers.

Bob, who was in the shower, didn't need the nightie, he'd smelled his wife's arousal all evening. She was beautiful, she was sexy, every guy at the opening stared at her, but despite his best efforts in the shower his dick remained as flaccid as overcooked spaghetti. He didn't like using his fingers, but he knew he better.

They crawled into bed; his penis remained dormant; he masturbated her. Ivanka had an orgasm, not much of an orgasm, but an orgasm. When she thought he was asleep Bob heard her leave, knew where she was going, said nothing.

In the guest bedroom Ivanka placed the vibrator on her clitoris and trying, with little success, to push from her mind the image of Zach fucking Rhonda, brought herself to orgasm.
​

* * * *​

The next morning, still embarrassed by last night, Bob said he'd skip breakfast, he needed to go to the office. Once there he called his secretary, then turned on his computer, but, unable to focus, aimlessly flipped from screen to screen. Flickering across all of them was a simple message: "YOU CAN NO LONGER SATISFY YOUR WIFE. SHE NEEDS A LOVER. SOMEONE WHO WILL NOT DESTROY YOUR MARRIAGE."

"Hey boss, you look distracted. How was the opening last night?"

"Fine, just fine."

Trixie came around his desk, turned off the computer, unzipped him, took him in her mouth.
​

* * * *​

Ivanka, in her home office, was as distracted as her husband; she was thinking about Zach, about how displaying herself to him had turned her on, about how he'd fucked Rhonda, about how she visited those memories when she'd masturbated. She knew she needed to get laid, but Zach? Deciding to learn more about the feelings rippling through her she typed several searches into her computer, all of which had been suggested by the subliminal message flashing on its screen. What she found surprised her. There were sites full of stories about mothers and sons, brothers and sisters, there were chat rooms bulging with messages from men and women recounting their happy experiences with family love, there were organizations that advocated for incest, favored its legalization, and there was a new subliminal message: "AS ZACH FINDS YOU ATTRACTIVE, YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO ZACH."

An hour later she turned off her computer. She felt better. While her reaction to her son's glances still troubled her, while they would not meet with society's approval, at least she wasn't alone.

She returned to her bedroom, dug her vibrator from the back of the lingerie drawer. This time, when thoughts of Zach crowded into her mind, she didn't fight them.
​

* * * *​

Ivanka got into the elevator with three bags of take-out Korean food, then checked the time. She was fifteen minutes late, which was good, just in case Zach and Rhonda were late themselves, but there'd been no reason for caution. Freshly showered, shining a happy post-coital glow, Zach and Rhonda were setting up plates and silverware when Ivanka entered the apartment.

After they started eating Zach said, "Mom, Rhonda was wondering if she could ask a favor? Personally, I think it's a great idea."

"What is it Rhonda?"

"Zach's told me you know about our special arrangement - thanks for being cool about it. Well, I heard from Matthew yesterday, he'll be back Friday. I told him I'd met you, turns out he's a big fan. He said he uses your software, not the army's, to design temporary housing on missions. I think there's a little bit of a celebrity crush there too. I was wondering, would you mind meeting him, maybe having dinner with us when he gets back."

Ivanka, as patriotic as the next person and curious to meet the man for whom her son was pinch-hitting, ran Friday's schedule through her mind. She was available. Bob, however, had a late meeting with the urologist, hoping for some good news; Ivanka didn't want him to cancel that.

"I can make it. Bob's got an appointment, he may be late. There's one problem, however."

"What's that?"

"Well, I never told my husband about your special arrangement. He doesn't know there is a Matthew."

Zach said, "Don't worry Mom, I'll handle Dad."
​

* * * *​

Late that night Ivanka was sitting on the couch, Kindle in hand, waiting for her son to come home from his final date with Rhonda, still having trouble accepting that Zach was not only okay with ending his dalliance with Rhonda, but was willing to entertain her boyfriend upon his return.

She heard him come in.

"Zach my darling, come sit with your mother."

"Hey Mom, you're up late."

"I wanted to make sure you're fine with meeting Matthew tomorrow. You and Rhonda get along so well, I can't imagine this will be easy for you."

Zach came around the couch, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her revealing nightie. Ivanka, who put it on hoping for this reaction, gestured for him to sit and, when she did, lay her leg across his lap.

"I can't say there's no regret, but Matthew's a great guy and I knew the rules when I started. And let's face it, a month with Rhonda is better than no Rhonda at all, it's been a blast."

Ivanka saw his point, why have rules that prevent you from getting what you want? They walked upstairs together and when Ivanka hugged her son she could smell the sex on him. He and Rhonda had gone out in style.
​

* * * *​

The following evening Ivanka was taking her time, carefully applying her make-up, wanting to look her best. After all, Matthew had a hot date tonight, Zach should too. Wondering whether she should she wear her hair up or down she stuck her head out the door and called, "Zach darling."

From inside his room: "Yes Mom."

"Would you mind coming here, I need your help."

He came out of his room, dressed in loafers, khakis, and neatly pressed white shirt. After a sharp intake of breath, and meaning every word, Ivanka said, "You look wonderful!"

"Thanks Mom. You're looking good yourself."

She turned her back to him. "Thanks, can you zip me up?"

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he pulled the zipper up her back, and Ivanka, feeling a delicious shiver between her legs, said,"Thank you dear, you have a nice touch," then turned back to him, held her hair over her head, and said, "Would you prefer I wear it up or down?"

Zach tightened his jaw in concentration and said, "We're going to Chez Pierre, right?"

"Yes."

"Looks great both ways, but I'd say down."

Nodding her agreement, Ivanka said, "Now, would you help me pick out my shoes."
​

* * * *​

Holding her son's hand, Ivanka spotted Rhonda and the striking young man next to her, catching their eyes with a nod of her head. By the time they reached the table Rhonda and Matthew were standing: the women hugged, the men shook hands, Matthew kissed Ivanka on the cheek, Zach did the same with Rhonda.​