Boardroom Bitch Ch. 01

"I'm Laura." She said.

"Vincent."

"Hi Vincent."

"Hi Laura."

She giggled.

"Do you come here a lot?" She asked him.

"I'm around."

"You're around?"

"Yeah, that's all I'm willing to commit to at this stage." He said, in a mock serious tone. "When I'm talking to a mysterious stranger."

"Okay, I understand, cool."

"Yeah, cool."

"So...uh...I don't normally do this...but...do you want to go get a coffee?" She asked.

He smiled at her, looking her up and down in a fairly brazen way. He was tempted. So tempted. But he stopped himself.

"I'd really like to, but I can't. I have to be somewhere."

"What about another time? We could have a coffee or whatever?"

He exhaled deeply.

"I have a girlfriend. I can't...well...you know...have a coffee..."

"Or whatever?"

"Or whatever."

She smiled briefly and then reached down to her bag, which was on the floor. She pulled out a leather purse and took a small business card from it, which she handed to Vincent.

"Well, if you change your mind about the coffee...or whatever...you can give me a call. Anytime."

She placed the card in his hand, her fingers lingering for a second, stroking his skin, and then he slowly walked away. After he had a shower and got changed, he left the building. Laura was in the main reception and she smiled and gave him a wave as he walked out.

The office block that housed Prudhomme and Associates wasn't that far from his gym, so Vincent got there quicker than he had predicted. He took the elevator up to the floor his mother's office was on and made himself known to her assistant. He was instantly ushered into the room and he found Vanessa sat behind her desk.

The office itself was deeply impressive. It was large and and had a great view of downtown. Her desk was a dark mahogany, which looked heavy and sturdy. There was a thick rug and a couple of big leather couches. There were some bookcases, although she wasn't much of a reader, and a couple of pieces of abstract art on the walls.

Vanessa herself was even more impressive. Stunning in fact. She was wearing an ostensibly conservative outfit, a light blue blouse, a dark skirt; but her voluptuous frame was always impossible to hide. Those killer curves were forever on display, and he was conscious of her swaying hips as she walked round the desk to hug him.

"Hey, Vinny. Thanks for coming."

As they embraced, he felt her heavy breasts press against his chest. She kissed him on the cheek, and turned round to walk back to her chair. If her hips were something to behold, her ass was off the charts. Those big butt cheeks rubbing up against the tight material of her skirt. He could almost hear them swish as she moved.

She sat at her desk and smiled at him. She was only wearing a light dusting of makeup and you could see the freckles round her nose and cheeks. Her hair was loose and flowing down her shoulders. Vanessa had always had naturally curly hair, a huge mane of red locks that lit up a thousand family photos from when she was a child, but she had been straightening it ever since she was a teenager. There was a slight wave to it today, and Vincent had to admit it looked fabulous. She looked fabulous. He didn't know, but she had been to the stylist just before she texted him. She had wanted to look her best.

"So, Mom. Will this be quick?"

"You've only just arrived, and already you want to leave?"

"I've got things to do."

"Okay, okay. Take a seat. Do you want a drink?" She asked him.

"No."

"Well, I do." She took out a big tumbler and a decanter of scotch. She poured herself a healthy portion, and looked up.

"You sure you don't want one?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

"Okay."

She took a swig, downing it without pausing. Then she smiled at him.

"So, are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Is Alice okay?"

"She's fine."

"School?"

"Look, what is this? You said you needed to talk, and now you're asking me a load of dumb questions."

"Okay, fine. You're right. I wanted to talk to you. I do want to talk to you."

She looked at him. He looked at her. The sound of the outside world could still be heard from this far up.

"I want to apologise." She said.

"For what?"

"For everything. For the other night."

"The other night?"

"The night of your play."

"Oh, that other night."

"Yes. I'm sorry about missing your play. I promised I'd be there, and I wasn't. I let you down. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, I forgive you."

"No, you don't, but I'm sorry anyway. Genuinely. But I want to apologise for the other stuff."

"What other stuff?"

"The stuff we talked about later that night."

"I don't remember what we talked about." He shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

"Yes, you do. The stuff about me being a shitty mom."

His mouth opened, then closed. He looked at her for a second, blushing.

"I'm sorry about that, Mom. I didn't mean it. I was angry."

"No, you meant it. Every word of it. And you were right."

"What?"

"I am a shitty mom. I always have been. There's no point denying it."

"Oh come on, you're a great mom."

"Bullshit." She said, firmly, brooking no argument. "That's bullshit. You know it. I know it. I'm a shitty mom. I'm a terrible mother. I've been like that since the day you were born. I don't believe in skirting around the truth, Vincent. You were emotional that night, but you were right. I've been a fucking awful mother to you all your life."

He didn't know what to say, he was dumbfounded. He agreed with her. He agreed with every goddamn word she'd said, but he was fucked if he knew how to respond.

"I suppose I got it off my parents. Your grandmother and grandfather were a couple of cold fishes. They were shitty parents to me and I passed it down the line, by being a shitty parent to you. But, what's past is prologue, I suppose. The question is, what do we do about it?"

"Uh...what do you mean?"

"How do we improve our relationship? How do we become closer?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know what my job is?" She said, a sudden non sequitur.

"You buy companies?"

"Yes. Basically. This is a kind of equity fund. We invest other people's money in businesses. We acquire these businesses and break them up. Asset stripping. We generate profits and earn a commission. It's highly profitable but it can be quite complicated. There are always things that come up. Problems. Staffing issues, legal complications, unions. A whole heap of potential shit. My job is to solve problems. I work my way round things. It's my gift. My talent. Well, one of them. I find solutions. Sometimes these solutions can be a little unusual. A little left field. That's what we need, something unusual."

"Something left field?"

"Yes, exactly. You see, the thing is, I'm never going to be your ideal mother. I just don't have it in me. The maternal gene just isn't in my emotional makeup. It isn't in my DNA."

"Okay," Vincent said, still weirdly confused about the whole conversation.

"I'm not going to start baking cookies for you. Firstly, we have a cook. Secondly, I wouldn't have the first fucking clue how to do anything like that. I'm just no good at anything domestic."

"You don't have to be. I've never wanted that. I just wanted you to be there for me."

"And I have proven, time and time again, that I'm incapable of doing that. I'm too selfish to be the kind of mother you want."

"So, what do we do, then?"

"Great question. Like I said, I'm a problem-solver. We have a problem. I have a solution. But, again, this might seem like an unusual solution. You might need to get used to the idea. But I think, if you do, you'll realise it's perfect."

"Okay, go on. I'm intrigued."

"Well, shitty mom I may be, but there are some things I'm good at. Really good at. One thing in particular. And I do think there's one way you and I could get a lot closer."

"And that is?"

"Sex."

Vincent shifted his head from one side to the other, sure he'd misheard her.

"Sorry?"

"Sex. I'm proposing that you and I...well, to put it bluntly...I'm proposing we fuck each other's brains out."

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"No. I'm absolutely serious. If you say the word, I will crawl round this desk, on my hands and knees, and blow you where you're sitting. Or, if you prefer, you can bend me over one of those couches and fuck me in the ass. It's entirely up to you."

"Are you out of your fucking mind? You invite me here, saying you want to talk, and then you play some sick prank on me? You're insane."

"This is no prank, and I'm entirely sane. I remember that night Vincent. Not just me missing your play. But afterwards. The row in the kitchen. Me slapping you. I'm sorry about that, by the way. I remember you grabbing hold of me and grinding your hard cock against me. You wanted to fuck me, there and then. I could feel it. I could feel your dick. I would've let you, you know. We could've spent all that night together. Sucking and fucking. We could've spent the last three weeks screwing each other. Why don't we make up for lost time?"

"This is sick. It's insane."

"Oh don't be so melodramatic Vinny. I don't see why you're getting so upset about it."

"Because it's wrong. It's illegal, for Christ's sake."

"Who gives a shit about that? I won't tell anyone. You won't tell anyone. No one will know. It'll be our little secret."

"I'd know. You're talking about incest."

"And? So what? It's not like your twelve years old and I'm sneaking into your room to molest you. We're both adults. We're free to do whatever we want. Actually, the fact we're related makes it kind of sexier, don't you think? The idea of us fucking, mother and son, gives it an extra edge."

"You're insane."

"Oh please, you'd love it. Trust me. You're clearly attracted to me, and I'm attracted to you. Why don't we just get down to it? I meant it when I said it would make us closer. I really believe that. And I wasn't kidding when I said I'm good in bed. I'm amazing. Let's put it this way, I'm very broad minded. There's nothing I won't do for you. You can have whatever you want, anytime you want. I'm all yours. Whatever your sickest and most depraved fantasy may be, I'll be up for it. You can't shock me, or offend me, or upset me. I'll be your ultimate wet dream. I'll be your dirty mommy slut."

Vincent stood up, swaying a little, clearly in a state of shock. Vanessa stood up too and walked round the desk, unbuttoning her blouse as she moved, pulling it out of her tight pencil skirt. Clearly she was now trying to seal the deal.

"You want to watch me fuck another girl?" She continued. "You want to see me eat her out? Lick her breasts? I'd do it, in a heartbeat. I just have to pick up the phone and someone would be here in twenty minutes. I have the exact girl in mind. You want to slap me about or tie me up? I'm down to clown. I like it rough. I love being fucked hard. You want to take me into my private executive bathroom and piss on my face? I'll open wide and drink every drop. I may be a shitty mom, but I'm a world class fuck."

She was stood in front of him, her blouse open and her massive tits on display. She was wearing a half-cup bra and he could see her erect nipples. She stared up at him, almost a pleading look on her face.

There was a beat, a pause, a single moment. Then...

With a guttural growl, he pulled her towards him and kissed her. His mouth mashed against hers, violently, their lips opening in an instant, their tongues pressing together. He lifted his hand up and grabbed hold of her breast, squeezing it in the crudest and roughest way possible. She came, there and then. Vanessa wrapped her arms round her son's shoulders, as they continued making out. He lifted her up, squeezing her body against his. She could feel his cock, hard and angry. She smiled as she kissed him. That's my boy, she thought. Soon, he'll be inside me.

But no, that wasn't going to happen. Not there. Not now.

Vincent stopped. He froze suddenly and let her go, dropping her back to her stockinged feet. He stepped back, looking at her. She was a little bedraggled, her blouse open, a tit hanging out of her bra, her skirt hitched up, once again her stocking tops were on display.

"This is wrong." He whispered. "This is so wrong."

"Vinny!" She exclaimed, exasperated.

He turned round and almost ran out of the office, slamming the door as he left. Vanessa stood there, perched on her desk, panting and flushed. She wasn't remotely disheartened. She was a predator, both in the boardroom and the bedroom. And she could still smell her prey. Vincent may have been a little reluctant this time, but he had proven once again he was interested.

"It's only a matter of time." She said out loud, before she started buttoning up her blouse.

Downstairs, out on the sidewalk, Vincent was bent over, with his hands on his knees. He felt dizzy. He thought he might throw up. But he still felt horny.

Gasping, he stood back up and looked around. No one knew. All these people walking down the street, and no one knew what he had just done. What he had nearly done. Jesus! Jesus fucking Christ! What had just happened? That was insane. That was madness. His mother was certifiable. She was completely nuts. She was so, so fucking hot.

He picked up his phone to ring Alice. There was no response and he heard her answering message. He put the phone back in his pocket and felt something. He pulled out a card, it said: Laura Bickley, Attorney-at-law. He looked at it for a second, then dialled the number. It rang a couple of times and then...

"Hello?" A female voice said.

"Hi, is that Laura?"

"Yes, who is this?" Although the change of tone in her voice suggested she might know precisely who was calling her.

"It's Vincent. We met at the gym earlier."

"Oh hi, how are you?"

"I'm great, I'm great. You said something earlier about a coffee?"

"Or whatever."

"Yeah, that too."

Less than an hour later, he was at her apartment. Laura was bent over the table in her kitchen and Vincent was fucking her from behind. They'd grabbed hold of each other and started making out, the moment she opened the door. Both of them knew exactly what he was there for. When he came, he screamed out the word Mom. Laura was too horny to notice or care.

7

A proposal had been made, and declined. But both of them knew that situation was likely to change soon enough. A mother had offered to become her son's lover, and he had said no. But that refusal was hardly definitive. He wanted her. She wanted him. It was only a matter of when and where.

For Vincent a desperate internal struggle had begun; the conflict between his libido and his conscience. Between desire and guilt. He'd spent most of that afternoon at Laura's apartment, the two of them fucking again and again. It was a strange experience; bouts of energetic, no-holds-barred, sex, punctuated by awkward conversation between two people who didn't know each other from Adam.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," She had said, her hand a blur as she jerked off Vincent's cock. "I've never done anything like this before. I have a fiancé for Christ's sake!"

"You want to stop?" He had asked, breathlessly.

"Fuck, no!" She said, with a giggle, before kissing him.

The proceedings had come to an end in her tiny bathroom, with her on her knees, blowing him in the shower. After he left, Vincent felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. He had never cheated on anyone before, and he couldn't quite fathom how this situation had come about. When he left the apartment, there was a quick, embarrassed conversation. Both of them said this would be a bizarre, albeit enjoyable, one-off. Neither expected to see the other again. At least that was the plan.

When Vincent got back to Alice's place, he was almost sick with guilt. He felt as if he had been branded with a scarlet letter, and his girlfriend would immediately know what he had done. She didn't. She hadn't suspected a thing. Alice trusted him and loved him, and would never have believed he was capable of such betrayal. It turns out, she was dead wrong, on that score.

Vincent and Laura had both been entirely sincere when they told each other their crazy, afternoon assignation would be a one time thing. They meant it, too. But the human spirit can be weak, and the temptations of the flesh can be strong. No more than a few days later, Vincent's phone buzzed and he saw a message from a number he didn't recognise.

Hi, it said.

Hello, he had replied.

It's Laura, her follow up message stated. You remember me from the other day?

I think the name rings a bell, Vincent typed, his dick already hardening in his pants.

Within the hour, he was back at her apartment and she was riding his cock on a small couch her parents had given her when she moved in. Not long after that, she let him fuck her in the ass; a special treat she had always implacably denied her fiancé. Vincent still felt guilty, when he left her apartment later that day, but not quite as guilty as he felt the first time.

He and Laura clearly had a thing going on now. It was to become a regular affair, the two of them meeting up every so often, almost always at her place. They didn't talk much. They just fucked. She was a relatively straight laced young woman who was engaged to a perfectly lovely, decent man; but she had developed this curious itch to do something a bit crazy. Vincent was the perfect vehicle for her self-indulgence. Laura saw him as a way to live out certain fantasies before settling down. And Vincent was perfectly happy to be exploited in this way.

He still felt guilty though. Guilty over the fact he was cheating on his girlfriend. Guilty over the fact he wanted to be cheating with his mother.

Vanessa had no such qualms about what was happening, or more precisely, what she wanted to happen. She was a ruthlessly logical woman by nature, and as far as she was concerned she had embarked upon an eminently sensible path. Throughout her life, throughout any relationships she had enjoyed, sex was invariably the glue that brought things together. Sex was the vital connection. Applying that principle to her interactions with her son seemed reasonable. They had never been close and she had suddenly felt a need to address that problem. How do I become close to him, she asked herself. I spread my legs for him and let him stick his dick inside me, was the only answer she could come up with.

Besides, he was young. He was hot. She wanted to fuck him.

But, for now, he was resisting the inevitable. She knew she had come on a bit strong when she had first floated the idea, so for now, she was playing it cool. Vincent had pretty much moved out, spending most of his time with his girlfriend. He was avoiding her. She was content to let things play out; confident he would soon come to a similar conclusion about the nature of their future relationship.