Renee Boon: Sex and Sensibility (and What Happened Next)

The black-haired, ocean-eyed boy's gaze seemed to briefly flicker. "The lovely, refreshing Mrs. Boon."

The pair stopped at a water fountain, pushing through a group of unruly guys. Curman took a drink.

Once he was up, he rubbed his mouth with his wrist, and continued. "Let's be frank, Hal. Get this over with. Tell me what happened."

Hal eyed Curman down. "Watch yourself, Curman."

"You know, you could always screw the Vans over yourself. But honest now. How long will it take alone? Weeks? A semester? A couple broken bones later?"

"You shit!" Hal just grunted.

Curman placed a hand on his shoulder, the same one Hal had blown clean earlier. "Come on, Hal. I'm just trying to help you out here. How can I do that with surface info?" He looked at Hal with a deep and clear stare, as more students poured into the campus. "Now. What happened between you and your mom?"

"You shit," Hal grumbled, and swiped Curman's hand away.

---

"Renee Helen Boon, pregnant at 17, charmed by a smart white collar entrepreneur undergraduate, now a mother of two warring mini-nations."

The mother shook her head as her only daughter ran out the door and towards Leslie's place. She was in a rush this morning. It wasn't like her to wake up late, and quite slapdash too.

She finished most of it at least, the young mother thought as she returned to the kitchen, looking over Martha's plate. Remnants of her breakfast remained, but was otherwise sparse. The girl must've been starving. Accompanying it was Hal's plate (already getting cold) and the old envelope from yesterday. The faintly tired woman had left it there after finding it among the more pressing mail items, giving it a read herself before rolling her eyes and reminding herself to toss it in the bin later. That boy needed less hazardous notions going into that noggin of his, not more.

Renee Boon's eye then fell upon a latched book in the bookcase by the window, on the opposite side of the table, and she went over and picked it out. With a page-flipping skim, she began casually reminiscing.

It was her diary; the current one anyway. She had gone through several over the years. Recently, she had decided to give another go at regular entries. The latest in this book was from two days ago.

With a firm internal nudge, the brown-haired, able-bodied woman noted to herself to make another one later that day as she tucked it back into the shelf, on a high corner, before returning to the pantry and performing another morning of clean-up duty. Hopefully not too time-consuming.

"Where the fuck is she?"

Nearly snapping in three, Renee breathed and managed a collected reply for the one and only person in the house that could have come from, so bluntly and out in the open as it were, and gave Hal a warm morning smile.

Hal Boon was her only son; the only brother to her only daughter, Martha Boon. And contrary to what some might have thought, he wasn't always this way.

He grew up with a mostly absent father, bad influences, even worse role-models, and with a frankly dysfunctional outlook on both life and women, especially. He was a local slob, but also a man with hands that wandered where they pleased and a mouth that spewed disdain and a penis in place of a brain.

That said, he was once an imaginative and bright boy. Really. One time, at the beach, when the kids were but in elementary school, he had helped everyone build sandcastles and even added his occasional 'Hal' touch to each one, with a faux-educational overview on the process. He engaged in a playful competition with all of them, turning the evening into a fun crafts competition. Renee would argue that was the moment Martha actually started her own passion for creation. It was also that moment that Hal and Leslie, of their family friends the Perez's, became hip-to-hip; bona fide cootie-calling, tickle warring, raspberry spitting companions, but companions nevertheless. Renee always knew there was something there. But ever since Hal grew up to be Hal "Hot Balls" Boon, and them to be 'young ladies', it quickly became obvious that it wasn't meant to be.

And yet with all things considered, she still loved him, even in the midst of all the harassment accusations, lawsuit threats, night-long lectures, parental disputes, more night-long lectures, broken furniture, broken curfews, broken ribs, and so on, and so on.

So it came as no surprise to her when the somewhat ruffled son, after an unsuccessful (and considerably inappropriate) request following her explanation of Martha's breezy departure, standing upright and with a gnawing look in his eyes directed straight at her back, asked her if he could fuck his own mother -- right in front of her.

For Renee, thinking insipidly to herself as she took her hands from the pots she was sorting and to the waist of her trousers then down and across her buttcheeks 'til they pooled at her feet by the floor, it was a wonder he'd never asked sooner.

"Of course, Hal, that sounds perfectly fine," she invited, stepping out of her pants. "Here." The half-naked woman reached over and pulled open a cupboard to get a bottle of her favorite multi-purpose oil, though this particular purpose had been unattended to since when, she could barely remember. It had been a long time since Frederick gave her a good time, but with Hal's young drive, there was no guessing how long she wouldn't be getting nailed, probably.

In a rather rude act, Hal slapped the bottle from her hands, causing it to spill on the floor.

"Hal!" Renee scolded, even as her son threw down his slightly wet boxers and twisted her around with his hands so her butt was pointing his way again and she placed her elbows on the counter. "Don't you dare try something so disrespectful before having sex with me again, or you can forget having your father co-sign that car with you!" She threatened over her shoulder with her intimidating mom-voice. Hal just ignored her as he grabbed her panties and jacked them down, allowing her to step out of them.

"I was only giving you something to help you fuck me better, as you obviously intend to do," she continued sternly, sighing as she gestured at the clear, nice-smelling mess on the floor, "but now it looks like you're going to have some extra cleaning to do before you get to school, young man."

Just then, she felt a hard, sharp smack and, steaming, turned to look at Hal. "Hal Sonny Boon!" she thundered. "You can penetrate and fuck my body like any healthy male, but don't you for a second think that gives you the right to just **** your own mother!"

"Fuck, Mom!" Hal stared straight at her, breaths slightly harried. "Why the fuck not?!"

"Because it's wrong!"

"But I can, can't I?!"

"No, you can not!"

"I mean, I may!"

The mother raised a hand. Hal cursed again.

"I mean I'm asking you! I'm asking may I spank your fucking ass?!"

Renee hesitated. She really hated being clapped down there. When she was younger, her father, and sometimes even Mom, would enact their vengeance with similar punishments, giving those sore and traumatizing nights afterward a never pleasant place in her memory. Ever since then she always denounced the act, in her private flings and in public.

But this was her own son. This was not some testosterone-fueled stranger who wanted to assert his superiority. And even if it was, who cared? Hal was bound to have a 'slip of the hand' regardless, and besides, she did say that he could fuck her any way he wanted. Technically, if that was just how he fucked people, with some good spanks to the ass, then... well, what did they expect her to do? Say 'No'? 'As a responsible, loving mother, I will not let you fuck me your way because look, I have a pet peeve'? Renee sighed, cursing her pesky code of honor.

"Fine," the mom faced forward again. "But if I hear any more of that dirty talk from you, then I'm imposing a limit. A strict mom-spanker's count. Got it?" Might as well, hey.

Before the final word had even left her lips, though, she felt more direct smacks to her ass, and she stifled a whimper. Flesh against flesh. She rolled her eyes, worrying about Hal's domineering tendencies. His problem was he was very uncooperative, and very demanding. It was a good thing he could test his sexual urges on her. It's what she was there for, anyway.

SMACK!

"Yeah," Hal's voice bellowed from behind.

SMACK! There went the other cheek.

"Yeah!"

SMACK! And the other again.

"Yeah, take it bitch!"

"Hal!"

Then Hal reached over and pulled down her top, freeing her large, braless breasts from her casual halter. He squeezed and clasped them, fingers flicking over her wide areolae as his mother adjusted her elbows against the countertop.

Renee squirmed, biting a lip. It had been a while since anyone touched her there, and it felt quite good. As Hal's hands molded her fleshy breasts they started moving more and more rapidly, squashing and pulling and straining while her breasts bounced against her shirt's neckline. In seconds the well-endowed woman released a womanly moan, one that Hal hadn't heard before, and definitely never expecting it to be because of him when he did, that was certain.

It was a tad rough -- Renee never had sex with her own son before, and she wondered if this was just his usual thing. Then she promptly reprimanded herself. That was none of her business, after all.

Hal's cock had been grinding against her naked bottom throughout this, and now rubbed over her clitoris from behind. Renee winced from his hands' indulgent rotations, mashed against her exposed, sensitive pair of whammers, as Hal grunted.

When he finally removed them, he grabbed the hem of her top and began pulling up. Obliging, the now fully naked woman lifted her arms up as he flung the shirt off and towards the wall divider.

"Do you want to fuck me now, Hal honey?" Renee turned and began to finger her pussy lips through a modest patch of hair as Hal looked at his own mother, naked, hot, and unbothered. Without saying a word, he grabbed her and directed her to the table barring his own barely touched plate, cleaning out the surface with one sweep, not noticing the stray envelope that fluttered to the floor.

The older -- but still young, mind you -- woman smiled knowingly and bent over the table, slight splashes at her feet. "Like this?" As she did so, that shit-eating grin she knew well appeared on Hal's face, the one that showed up whenever something so wrong was going oh so right, at least for him. Renee rose a mirthful brow ('really?') while her son approached to obviously just give her a good fucking. Something that, despite being sensible to do for her own son, she couldn't help but anticipate herself, considering how long it had been since last.

Just as Hal grabbed her hips, though, he suddenly felt the room spin before him, and his legs slipped out from below. Renee looked down in concern, but with a pivot of her foot found herself falling as well.

"What the--"

Hal was stomach first on the floor, staring at his hands. They were covered in the white oily substance he let loose from before. Renee just laughed on top of him, sprawled over his legs.

"Karma hurts, doesn't it hun?" she poked his butt as he turned around in a grumble, moving his back to the floor until he faced up. This, of course, covered the rest of his back in the natural -- and nice-smellling -- liquid.

Just as he was about to groan out something else, most likely, his eyes widened as he felt a slippery texture drape over his shaft and his tip. Shuddering with an instantaneous surge of pleasure, he looked down to see his mom lifting her tongue from his dick. "Mmm," she said as she went down again, her tongue expertly rolling and flicking against his already dripping rod, then plopping back out, "perfect. Ready to go, dear?"

Hal felt ready to explode was what, but held it in as he grunted an unintelligible 'yes' and lifted up his legs, causing his mom to fall onto her own backside.

"Ow," she said with a rub. Before she could glaringly reiterate who was cleaning this mess later, Hal lunged forward, pushing himself on top of her. Once his buxom, fully exhibited mother was aligned below him, he stared into her eyes, framed underneath her cute, sharp dark brown hair, then slammed his hard, rained dick into her receptive pussy.

She gave a gasp, and then a gurgle, and then a moan while Hal thrust in and out and sometimes with an extended push when a hand slid against the drenched floor. His body lay in part against her and in part against losing his grip as he finally plastered his hands to her chest with a tight splat and began to pummel into her gaping hole.

"Look," he spoke through his grunts as he slapped his hands against his mother's two beautiful breasts like a child on a keyboard, watching as they rippled, the oil dripping down their slopes, "it's making splashing noises!"

"Yes," Renee grunted, "Hal, it, is."

"Damn," he said, coming back for air after a suck on one nipple, "it doesn't taste so bad!"

"Well," Renee grunted, breathed, then grunted again, "I'm glad you're having fun, baby." Then she smiled at him. "I love coconut oil myself. When your father and I first met, we..."

Hal proceeded to shove his dick into his mother with a voracious speed as he grabbed hold of her jiggling jugs, sending Renee into cries of ecstasy, these nearly foreign sensations returning in full **** throughout her body as her son's thick girth powered its way into her quickly dampening snatch. She brought her legs together around Hal's behind and used the oily floor as a maneuvering aid, sliding deeper against his cock with each rough push while tightening herself around him. Apparently, Hal felt it, his own grumbling became more distinct through his dogged breaths.

Renee's torso tilted slightly left as she drove into Hal's cock, and grabbed a table leg. A strip of bacon fell from Hal's plate, landing against her left breast between her own pair of coconuts.

"Hal!" Renee remembered, trying to give him a good look through her shaky breaths as she grabbed the piece of bacon. "Don't -- eurgh! -- forget to eat -- mmph! -- your food before you goooeuunnm!"

Through distracted eyes, Hal still managed to see something quickly placed before him. "Mom," he exhaled, "may I have you feed me?!"

"Yes, yes, oohf, of course, honey!" Renee hurried out as she took the strip of bacon out of the valley between her breasts. Then, bringing it up to Hal's face, it was quickly ravaged out by his mouth.

To be thorough, Hal managed to find the edge of the plate with his right arm 6 thrusts later, and flipped it, causing the egg and other bacon flap to fly from the table and onto his mom's person. Noticing, she grabbed a ruined slop of egg and shakily lifted it to Hal's face.

"EGGS, CHECK!" Hal announced after an audible gulp.

Then she clutched a strip of bacon and threw it in the air. Hal caught it and swallowed it down, his dick steadily reaching its breaking point.

"BACON, CHECK!"

Then he finally felt his seed rocketing out of his cockhead and pulled out. With little effort, one hand on a boob, the other on a shoulder, he slid his disheveled mom against the floor until her face was straight under his twitching pole.

"HAL'S PREMIUM FUCK SPUNK, CHECK!"

And not a second later, he came over her entire face. He picked her up by the hair and stood to his feet, bringing her up with him, but only to her knees. Then he rammed his ejecting dick through her lips and into her mouth, and after some muffled words she got the idea and licked and swallowed it all.

Finally, after what seemed like the longest five seconds since that General Hospital mis-flip, Hal exhaled a steady, deep breath of air, and his loosening dick slopped out of his mom's still pretty, albeit now completely unpresentable, face.

She coughed and choked out some air of her own, as she placed a hand against her thigh and the other over her mouth. Then, adjusting her hair and fluffing it out in the back, she shivered a bit, then stood up, looking at Hal. "Okay, honey," She crossed her arms over her body. "I hope that's all, because... it got a bit chilly in here."

Then Hal helped her gather her clothes, even throwing her panties at her face, which she only laughed at before playfully admonishing him.

"I'll let it slide just this once," she finally stated, regarding the mess they left behind, "but only because you're already going to be late now that you have a shower to see to." Renee sighed as she threw her halter and panties back on and placed the pants onto the table, neatly folded, then lifted one foot from the white muck. It was hard to tell which was from the bottle and which was from Hal, frankly. "You and me both," she murmured, wiping some spunk/oil off with a nearby towel.

"Okay Mom," Hal finally replied as he made his way back up to the tub.

"And Hal?"

The hairy beast turned, one foot on the stairs.

"Thanks for not forgetting about your food this time," his mom smiled warmly, before adding less assuredly, "and... well..." She drew back only for a second, continuing again quickly, "I'm kind of mortified to admit it, but... the sex was fun, too. Even if you could be as rough as an unrehearsed Jerry Springer show." She capped the last bit off with a lighthearted laugh, then after tautly shooing her son out of his uncharacteristically frozen state, turned her attention to the newest addition to her to-do list, making an internal note to get through it quickly to be in time for a cold and hasty shower as her nipples were made visible through the wet shirt.

Finding another towel by the bookshelf, she wobbled over to get it, her gaze meeting the old diary from earlier. Another smile pried through her drying face once more.

Maybe good memories don't all need to be behind you, she thought amusingly to herself as she grabbed a towel.

---

Curman stared at Hal carefully. For the first time he could've sworn he saw a glint of guilt, but if so it was immediately washed away with a return of apathy and even contentment.

Hal, in the meantime, watched Curman shift his legs slightly, a slight look of discomfort in his face.

The two both looked at each other. Then Curman spoke up.

"No!"

"You think I'm a liar?"

Curman just pushed himself off the building, a private corner they found away from the bustling mob, then stretched. "I think," he began, his expression tuning into mister distant-spectator again, to Hal's chagrin, "that you just did something you never thought you'd do in your life. And now you're pretending not to care."

"Who gives a shit! Fuck you, Curman!" Hal struck back. "You gonna cooperate with me with this Penelope shit, or not?"

Curman just chuckled, eyes gleaming.

"Yes yes," the slimmer boy waved a hand, "all in due time. But quickly, you said that you asked her to feed you..."

"Yeah," Hal interrupted. "I said... damn," he looked up in a brief moment of blankness, "what did I say again?"

"'May I have you feed me?' That, right?"

"Yeah! Like I said. First shit that comes to mind, but it's some pretty handy stuff, am I right, Bumboy?"

Curman just nodded, a knuckle to his chin. "Yeah, Hal," he murmured. "Pretty handy stuff indeed..."