Appetitus Rationi Pareat Ch 01

***

In his four years here, never had Jeremy been in the principal's office. The amount of time Moe, on the other hand, spent here rivaled the amount of time he spent in class. Jeremy tried to surreptitiously glance over at Moe. There he was, slouched in the chair, hands shoved in his baggy jeans, chewing on a strand of his long hair.

Moe had tormented Jeremy for ages. But lately Jeremy's mom had butted in, after he had dragged himself home one day with a black and blue ear, and without a backpack. This was not good. His mom's interference just made things worse. She had good intentions, but she was clueless when it came to the slippery social dynamics of high school. Having kept an eye on Moe, she had found him not only bullying her son, but harassing freshmen girls as well.

To make things worse, the school was afraid of Jeremy's mom. She was some sort of hot shot lawyer, with a record of suing public and private organizations for harassment, especially of women. Now she was bringing those skills to bear in order to defend her son. So there she was, on some tirade about Moe's lack of respect for protocol and the rule of law, and his lack of decency towards women and his son in particular.

Jeremy grimaced at the implication that he was a female. But slighting his non-existent ego was the least of his problems. Moe was obviously furious, at Jeremy and his mom. He was making mocking gestures with his face when the principle and his mom weren't looking. Eventually, she caught the tail-end of his pantomiming, and chastised him for his lack of respect for his elders. He mumbled "fucking bitch" under his breath.

When it was over, Jeremy was not looking forward to gym. His locker was right next to Moe's.

Jeremy always waited until all the others were gone. Changing clothes in the gym, in front of the other high school boys left him self-conscious, to the point of paralysis. And this invited bullying from a few, and snickering from others. Always that static. Better to let the others filter out, and then change. Lunch period was next, so there was no danger of being tardy. This time he added the precaution of entering late, in order to avoid Moe. By the time Jeremy started changing, everyone was gone.

Despite being alone, he still had a towel wrapped around his waist. As he was pulling his shirt on, there was a commotion, Moe crashed into the locker room, high and loud. Fuck, Jeremy thought to himself.

"Hey faggot," said Moe. His standard greeting. "I am going to fuck your mom."

The image in his head was evoked against his will. Jeremy pictured his mother bent over, with Moe behind her. There he was, tall and wiry, wearing only his shaggy hair, his goatee, a cigarette between his lips, pounding away at Jeremy's mom. Maybe he'd reach down now and then and bat her tits, or... Jeremy put a stop to the images. He didn't know why, but it was arousing, not just the picture, but the very idea, of this bully, this loser, this drugee, fucking precisely what Jeremy was supposed to value the most.

Whatever the reason, Jeremy's erection didn't know the difference. Moments after Moe had spoken, Jeremy had a small tent in his towel. It was instantly noticeable. He tried to hide it, but that only drew further attention to it.

"Holy shit!" Moe pointed and broke into laughter. Jeremy tried to leave, but Moe had the presence of mind, despite his laughing fit, to block Jeremy's path.

"You want me to fuck your mom, faggot?" He tried to suppress another bout of laughter. "You like that idea?"

"No," Jeremy said, knitting his eyebrows, attempting to look indigent. His erection had gone. Maybe he could pull it off.

"I don't fucking believe you. I think you want me to actually fuck your mom. I think you like the idea of me pulling off her blouse, ripping off her bra, and sucking on her juicy titties, while you watch and masturbate."

Again Jeremy tried to bolt, but to no avail. His body had betrayed him again; the tent in his towel re-appeared. Moe was staring in disbelief. It was true. Jeremy was actually getting off from the idea of Moe fucking his mother. Blush spread across Jeremy's pale chest, up to his neck.

"No shit, faggot," Moe said, gesturing to Jeremy's boner. "Actually, this kinda sucks." Jeremy raised his eyes at the unexpected response. "I always knew you were a fucking loser. But now there is nothing I can ever say or do to you that will make it more obvious that you are a loser than this, here, right now. I can fucking retire, man. You did my work for me."

"I..." Jeremy began.

"Shut the fuck up. I never liked you, faggot. But now you make me fucking sick. You make me want to vomit." Moe slowly circled Jeremy. "No man should get off from imagining an enemy fucking his mom. You getting a boner thinking about that, well, just that is more fucked up than anything I've ever done." Moe then bitched slapped Jeremy. Not too hard, but hard enough. Jeremy tried not to cry, that familiar knot in his throat. It wasn't the pain. Moe was right. What kind of guy would get aroused by that? He was a loser.

"So tell you what, faggot. I'll do you a favor. Yea, I'll fuck your mom."

Jeremy's head snapped up.

"And you know what? You'll let me. Fuck, you'll help me. Why? Because you're a fucking lo-ser," he said, shoving his finger against Jeremy's forehead. Moe opened up his locker, rummage a bit, slammed the locker door. Moe picked up Jeremy's hand. At first, Jeremy resisted, but a mere glance from Moe ended that. He placed in Jeremy's hand a vial of some sort.

"That's my own special cocktail. Stick some in your mom's drink, and she'll be out in 15, like a fucking dentist patient." Moe paused. No reaction. "How does tonight sound? Anyone else's be home?" No response. "You know what, I've seen you take a piss. You don't use the urinals. You use the toilets, like a pussy. You know what that means? That means you were raised by a woman. And that means your mom probably divorced a long time ago. Only someone without a man in the house would end up like you. I think you and your mom live alone. Am I right?"

He was right, but Jeremy didn't say anything. He just stared at the tiled floor.

"So tell me: Where do you live?"

Nothing.

"Faggot?" Impatient, Moe reached over, rummaged through Jeremy's belongings, until his found his pleated khaki pants. From the back pocket he removed Jeremy's wallet. "There we go," Moe said, reading off Jeremy's driver's license.

"I'll be there at nine tonight. You better have your mom out cold by then. And yea, you could tell the cops or anyone else you like. But you won't. You know why?" Moe smiled, his thin lips stretching. "Because this'll be the highlight of your pathetic life. Never will you be more turned on than tonight. This is your wildest dream come true, aint it?" Jeremy looked up. Moe actually expected him to respond. "Aint it? You want this to happen more than I do."

Nothing.

"Ok, I'll give you a little help. If you don't do this, I'll fucking kill you. You hear that? I will. Think I won't?" He grabbed the back of Jeremy's neck with both hands. "You fucking make me so sick, that I'd kill you, just to do the world a favor. I have no reservations about putting someone like you under. Got that?" Jeremy nodded, as best he could. Moe released him. Moe abruptly turned and headed for the exit. "See you at nine, faggot."

He had no choice. Right? They'd kill him. Moe said so. It was his mom's honor, or his life. There was no way out. That's what he told himself anyway. When he considered telling the cops, that idea would be fogged and usurped by images of Moe riding his mom... it was ok. She'd never know. There would be nothing for her to remember. As long as he wasn't too rough, whether it happened or not would make no difference in her life. Right?

This was crazy. He knew it. So he decided to masturbate. That way, when he was done, he'd no longer be turned on by this whole affair. And that worked -- for about three minutes. After that, he was back where he started.

Around 8:30, he was in the dining room, just standing there, watching her. She was about his height, not tall, light brown hair, her body nice and rounded. She was still dressed professionally, from work. "How's it going, buddy?" she said to him, sitting at the table, reading a cook book.

Jeremy casually moved behind her. "Can you get me a coke?"

This can't be happening, he thought to himself. This was a test, some sort of test. Maybe she was in on it somehow.

He mechanically poured his mother a Coke. Then he did it without thinking. One moment it was in his head, and the next moment, it was in his mom's Diet Coke. He didn't remember making the decision. It just happened. The dye was cast. That's it.

By the time Moe arrived, Jeremy's mom was semi-conscious. She was slumped in her chair. Jeremy was nearly hysterical with panic. All he could think was, 'What have I done?'

As in a trace, Jeremy opened the door for Moe. He glanced briefly around the room, and then said, as a pizza man would "Yea, I'm here to fuck your mom?"

Jeremy stood motionless, so Moe invited himself in. After a quick tour, he found her in the kitchen. "Hey, good work, faggot! I didn't actually think you'd do it." He approached her. "Yoohooo! Anyone home?" he waved his hand in front of her face. Her eyes were barely open, just a gurgle for a response. "Yup, no one's home."

With his index finger, Moe traced her lips. After completing a circuit, he pushed it into her mouth. With his other hand, he pursed her lips together, and made it look like she was going down on his finger. Without warning, Moe turned around, and in two strides, reached Jeremy. He pinned Jeremy to the floor. "What the hell?" Jeremy yelled.

"I want your fucking pants off. I want to see," he clutched the inside of Jeremy's jeans "...and I want you to see that I see how turned on you are by all this." Finally, Jeremy stopped struggling. Soon, he was back on his feet, bottomless. His dick only slightly turgid.

That done, Moe returned to Jeremy's mom. He bent down and licked her face, one long stroke, briefly pushing an eyelid open. He glanced over, and sure enough, Jeremy's dick was pointing straight out. "Good, faggot. Now check this out." Moe pulled down his own pants, and revealed a cock that wasn't as hard as Jeremy's. "Told you you'd be more turned on by this than even me. But don't worry. I'll catch up soon enough."

Moe ripped off her blouse. Jeremy wondered how'd he explain that later on, but that thought was eclipsed by something he didn't expect. His mom was wearing one of those things that made your tummy look flatter than it really is. "The fuck is this?" He pulled at the material, trying to find out where it fastened on. "I didn't know that people actually wore this shit. Your mom is one stupid bitch," the last words came out in staccato, as he attempted to reach behind her to unstrap the material.

He then stood up, and looked down at her. "How should I take off her bra?" He put his forefinger and thumb against his chin, feigning deep thought. "How does she like it? Rough? Soft?" He pulled the front of her bra strap outwards increasing its tension, and then he let it go, snapping back. She twitched. Finally, he decided on pulling one of her breasts out from under its cup, so that it hung on top of it.

"How about that? Classy. She looks like a fucking crack-whore."

Reaching down, he twisted her nipple, until it hardened, as Jeremy and Moe looked on. "Who would have thought this morning, while this bitch was lecturing me, that I'd be twisting her nipples that same night?" He guffawed. "I guess you sucked on this once, long ago. Now it's my turn." He shoved as much of her breast as he could into his mouth, his cheeks sunken inward. It left a hickey surrounding her nipple. There was no way this was going to pass unnoticed.

"Not bad," Moe said. He lifted her back up off the chair, long enough to unhook her bra. Once he had it in hand, he looked at the size. A c-cup. He then adjusted her breasts, as if they were figurines on a shelf, and then stepped back to look. "Not bad, for a woman her age. They sag a bit." Pointing, he continued "These stretch marks should go. And one tit is a little bigger than the other. Ever notice that?" He reached over and slapped the smaller one. "A little surgery could fix that."

Moe's eyes lit up. "I wonder..." With his left hand, he lifted one of her breasts, while with he right hand, he tilted her head foreword. With a little pressure, he was able to make her breast touch her lips, just barely. Keeping her that way, he glanced back at Jeremy. His cock was visibly throbbing in time with his pulse. "Heh. Thought you might like that."

"One more thing before we move on." Moe kneeled beside her, placed her arms around him, and kissed her full on the lips. There they appeared to make out while he mauled one of her breasts. Jeremy, from afar, let out a barely perceptible moan. Standing up, Moe straddled both her and the chair. He took her head in both hands, and slowly guided his cock into her mouth. From there, he trusted his hips back and forth.

"Fuck." He grimaced. "Fucking teeth. I can't close her mouth without her biting me. And I can't get enough contact with her mouth wide open." He tried, while one hand steadied her head, to purse her lips together with the other. "No good. He motion over to Jeremy. "Come here, faggot. I need your help." Jeremy obeyed, slowly. "I need you to push her lips against my cock, but without closing her fucking jaw.

"I can't, I..."

"DO IT."

Jeremy stepped forward, kneeled, and placed his fingers around his mother's lips, pushing them against Moe's cock. He was up close, he could the veins on Moe's dick disappear in his mother's mouth. Traces of her lips stick smeared against both his fingers and Moe. Sometimes, he pulled out all the way, until her lips were kissing the tip of his dick. "I don't want to go too deep, and have her puke on me."

Finally, he stopped, pulled out, and placed his balls in her mouth. He rested his cock on her face. Pre-cum dripped on her eye. "How many guys do you think have fantasized about shutting up this lawyer bitch by sticking a cock in her big mouth?" He smirked at Jeremy.

Moe stepped back. "Ok enough of this. Help me strip her. I want to see her cunt." He lowered her to the floor, and went to work unbuttoning her jeans. "You grab one side, and I'll grab the other. Pull. But make sure you don't pull her panties down at the same time. I want to see her in them first."

The tight jeans slowly worked its way down her thighs. Jeremy had never been so close to his mom's legs before. He could see the light veins run beneath her skin, and an old scar he had never noticed. Strands of pubic hair were sticking out from either side of the crotch of her panties. Moe frowned, and indicated that they'd have to remedy that.

Finally, the jeans came off her ankles, and Moe threw them across the room. "Ok. Go get some water, shaving cream, and a razor. We're going to shave her cunt." Jeremy was in disbelief. He hadn't counted on this. No sooner than he tried to protest, than his face was slapped. "Go."

After he returned with the materials, Jeremy was instructed to hold her legs wide open. Moe went to work, lathering her up, and shaving.

Half way through, he demanded that Jeremy take over. "Shave your mom's cunt," was the way he put it. "I can't, Moe. She's my mom." This was the most defiant he had been so far.

Using his index finger than thumb, Moe placed them on either side of her cunt lips, and flapped them open and closed, as if it were talking. In a mocking voice, he had the cunt say "well, Jeremy, you fucking gave me to your worst enemy. You can hardly say 'oh but she's my mom' now." Moe laughed in spite of himself.

Jeremy took the razor, and positioned himself between his mom's legs. With one hand, he positioned his mother's cunt-lips, and with the other, he shaved, in upward strokes. "Do the top too. I don't want to see any hair left." They rinsed her off. She was completely smooth, and a little red. There was no way in hell he'd be able to explain this when his mom awoke. "Good work. Women shouldn't allow themselves to grow down there. It's disgusting."

Jeremy looked on as Moe straddled her, leaned forward and licked the entire area around her crotch. "Much better. See, you can't do that if she weren't shaved." He ran his fingers along the length of her now nude body. "Actually, she's not a bad looking ho," Moe said. "She has a little bit of tummy," he said, "but nothing that a little exercise couldn't fix."

Jeremy knew his mom was very sensitive about her abdomen. And here Moe was, jiggling it. "Let's check out her ass. In fact," Moe said, getting up and sitting on the chair, "pick her, and put her on my lap."

"She's too..."

"You can do it, faggot." Moe said. Jeremy positioned himself, putting his arms beneath her legs and back, and heaved her upwards, barely dumping her in Moe's lap, face down. Moe slid her forwards, until she was in the classic spanking position. "See," Moe said, "your bitchy mother here insulted me. She needs to be punished." With that, he raised his hand, and brought it down on her ass. A red hand-print appeared. He did it again.

"When was the last time your mom was spanked, do you think? Being a hot-shot lawyer, it probably doesn't happen often. Good thing I'm here though, 'cause obviously," he said, striking her again, "she needed it. Don't you agree?" Moe stayed silent. "Faggot. Look at me. Does your mom deserve a spanking?"

"Yes," he said, just above his breath.

"Come here, faggot" Moe said. He pushed her ass even further upwards. "Spread open her butt cheeks." Jeremy placed his hands on each cheek. Softly. "Now spread them." He did, slowly bringing into view his mom's asshole and vagina. Moe licked the tips of two of his fingers and placed them in the entry of her cunt. He slowly pushed them in, up to his knuckled. He looked away, and knitted his brow, as if here searching for something. "There's her cervix. There's her g-spot. Ever thought I'd be touching your mom's cervix, faggot?" Jeremy wasn't sure what a cervix was.

"Ok, enough games," Moe said. "Let's get down to business." He got up and searched the kitchen, finding a retractable ironing board. He brought it down, and sat on it, testing its strength. "Good," he said to himself. "Time to fuck this ho."

Jeremy didn't even try to protest anymore. Together, they lifted her up, and placed her on the ironing board, but perpendicular to it, so that she was doubled over on it, her feet and hair grazing the floor. Wasting no time, Moe kicked open her legs, and stood between them. "Come here, faggot. Spit on your mom's cunt. I need some lube. You can do better than that bitch. Spit like a man. That's better."

"Now pull open her cunt lips for me, and put my dick in her pussy." Moe threw his head back in exasperation. "Don't make me beat you. Do it, faggot."

Jeremy did as he was told. For the first time in his life, he touched his mom's pussy, pulling it open. He looked to where he had emerged 18 years before. And for the first time in his life, he touched another man's dick, and placed its head against his mom's hole. Carefully pushed Moe's cock into his mother's cunt. Moe pushed the rest of the way in, until he was inside her, to the balls. "Now ask me to fuck her."

"Please fuck her."

Moe stared, and shook his head.

"Pl.. please fuck my mom."

"If you insist," Moe said, and he began thrusting away. "Oh, and you can jack off now."Jeremy watched, as Moe, the boy who had bullied him for as long as he could remember, pounded away at his mom. He dirty fingers were clutching her thick hips, his long greasy hair obscuring his face. "That's it," he'd mumble, "take it bitch, you know you like it, that's what you get." Moe drooled onto his dick, to lube it up more. Some of it missed, and landed on her heavy thighs.