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Helen had become deeply troubled. Since she had found her son mounting her best friend and sending Rachel through the roof with pleasure, she was at her wits end as to what to do. She dare not mention it to Glen who had already had two more
run-ins with Phillipe, the last ending in a shouting match in which Phillipe had all but said he could take his mother away from his father if he wanted. Glen had dared him to try and now the stage was set. Phillipe genuinely cared for his mother, but the animosity between he and his father was almost palpable and the two now simply avoided each other.
Helen had only a few other friends but none as close as Rachel and all of them female. She most certainly would not be sending any more women to talk with her son. Katy's relationship with her brother was little better than Glen's which left only a counselor. That too was a disaster as Phillipe continued to outwit the man at every turn and turned all the psychological theory back on the psychologist who, after a dozen sessions admitted defeat. There was nothing he could do for a boy who knew more psychology than he did and knew exactly how to use it against him.
Concern had turned to anxiety and finally to fear as Helen, although unaware of the exact nature of Phillipe's and Glen's argument was uncomfortably aware that Phillipe was making remarks and even gestures which were becoming suggestive. The memory of the night in Phillipe's room when she had almost fallen victim to the same fate as Rachel still played itself vividly in her mind. She kept asking herself if she had simply imagined it, misinterpreted or exaggerated his intentions, but deep within she knew the answer. She was also deeply vexed by her own reaction, not only allowing the kiss to linger but allowing her lips to part to...
She tried pushing those thoughts from her mind, yet they lingered, always at the edge of consciousness, ready to flood back in and send her into recriminating self examination. For a few fleeting seconds, she had wanted him, wanted to know the taste of his lips, his mouth, his...
She tried shaking her head as if to fling off the offending thoughts. But even as she busied herself with housework, errands and cooking, she realized that she had indeed felt a fascination, even a desire for... what?
I'm a grown woman for God's sake, she told herself. I'm thirty-seven years old. I have a husband. Phillipe is my son. I could never...
And then the forbidden thoughts would gnaw at her despite her efforts to banish them. In short Helen Spangler was at war with herself.
Phillipe, on the other hand, was quite satisfied with the way things were working out. His father's words had simply cemented his plan in place. Rachel Donovan was certainly a beautiful woman and there was something about the body of a mature woman which made him realize how much more pleasure he derived from seducing the thirty-eight year old than the teens. First her body was simply more enjoyable, softer, fuller and the rapture she experienced more intense, thereby increasing his own sense of excitement and pleasure. But perhaps more important was the chase. Despite the extreme intensity of the pheromone, he had had to use his wits, his guile and his own sensuality to seduce her. Of course once they coupled he had sent her into paroxysms of mindless erotic excess and from there it was easy, but getting her to bed in the first place had been a challenge -- one he enjoyed. And now he was determined to best his father, to bed his mother and take her away from the man he now despised. He knew his mother had been very close to surrendering that night in his room, but now he was glad for Katy's interruption which had sent his mother scurrying downstairs to safety. Now that he had had a chance to consider it, he decided he would forego the pheromone and seduce her by guile alone. That way the victory would be even sweeter when at last she came to his bed -- and yes, he would not consider the seduction successful until she, of her own volition, came to him and surrendered her will and her body.
He smiled as he contemplated victory. His father banished and his mother his personal mistress. Yes, life was sweet, he thought as he planned his campaign of conquest.
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