Yes, and the plot thickens

As the both of you made your way over to Greg's house, you couldn't help but feel something was just a little bit off. Greg had always been a hyperactive kid, but you sensed a kind of trepidation underneath it now that was entirely unfamiliar to you.

You shrugged it off, however, the moment you got to the house, and the smell of Dianne's cookies came wafting to your nose.

"Dougie!", an excited, shrill scream emerged from the kitchen the moment you and Greg put your stuff down in the hallway.

Out came waddling Dianne on her high heels, wiping her hands on her apron as she did. She ran up to you in an excited huff, arms spread wide for her patented bearhug.

"It's been *much* too long!", she lamented, after grabbing you tightly. Almost too tightly, it seemed to you - and you could almost swear she took a deep whiff of the side of your face before she released the hug and looked you over, beaming, her manicured hands pawing your shoulders.

Dianne had never been much of a looker, though her sheer confidence and giddy swagger had always given her an undeniable charisma. As such, you couldn't help but blush slightly as the older woman looked you over, gleaming a crookedly toothy grin amidst her thickly glossed red lips.

She was in her 40s now, a little overweight and a few years older than your mom - but unlike your mom, she looked it. In fact, undoubtedly due to her chainsmoking and fervent drinking, she actually seemed a good few years older than she was. The bright red hair dye of her short curly bobcut was obviously more to hide her graying hairs than for fashion. She was as buxom as ever, though, showcasing an exaggerated hourclass figure even through her apron. And though her somewhat overly made-up face with yellowed teeth was far from attractive to you, the sheer size of her bosom and her massive, child-bearing hips would not have escaped your teenage boy's notice - had they belonged to someone else.

To be honest, specifically if that someone had been a good few decades younger - Dianne was more like an aunt to you at this point.

She sighed.

"I'm *so* happy you could make it. And Lisa, too, I heard! Oh, I've been planning this dinner for so long, we'll have such a good time, you'll see!"

Greg fidgeted uncomfortably in his mother's gaze.

"But, oh, don't let me keep you boys, I'm sure you have some catching up to do", Dianne continued. "Just make sure to be back down here in an hour to help me prepare dinner, okay smoochum?"

She gave the last part a flourish by pinching Greg's cheek, though he oddly flinched back a bit from her touch.

"Y- yeah, sure, Mom.", he muttered awkwardly. "Let's go, Doug."

Greg raced upstairs to his room, and though you were feeling increasingly puzzled you quickly followed.

Your worries quickly dissipated, however, as you and Greg easily fell back into the hanging-out-after-school mode you had spent so many afternoons in. It didn't hurt that you were absolutely trouncing him at Call of Futy.

But after 15 rounds straight of sheer domination, even you began to get a sense that Greg seemed somehow distracted. Before you could give it any more thought, however, Dianne burst into the room with a tray of freshly baked cookies.

And the sight of her was more than enough to drive any other thought out of your mind at the moment.

She had changed into her evening dress, apparently - and it was an evening dress that would have seemed risqué for someone half her age, but positively scandalous to you for an older mother. It was a bright red, loose, one-piece off-shoulder dress. It had an extremely wide v-shaped slit down the middle, exposing Dianne's entire midriff, belly and most of her bra-less decolletage - stopping just short of the very edges of her nipples on the sides of her massive, loose-hanging breasts, though just a hint of her dark-pink, bumpy areolas were tantalisingly visible nonetheless.

The open slit tapered right down, well past the top of her pubic mound, to the point you could immediately tell she had shaved down there. And while technically still covered - if barely - her nipples and genitals were not exactly well-hidden. Two fat, dime-shaped and down-pointing nipples were clearly visible poking through the dress. And no dress would have been loose enough to hide the massive, semi-flaccid penis swinging down to Dianne's knees, wrapping the fabric of her dress around it.

The dress had two side slits, further more, running up Dianne's legs, so wide that her gigantic thighs -and most of the side of her ass - were practically completely uncovered. Due to the sheer size of the opening, any underwear straps would have been clearly visible - making it abundantly clear she wasn't wearing anything down there either.

Completely in spite of yourself, because of the sheer audacity if nothing else, you gulped audibly and gaped at her awkwardly.

"Oh, Doug, honey, stop; you'll make an old lady blush!", Dianne giggled.

You quickly averted your gaze, turning red with embarrassment. "I, um, uh, s-sorry, Dianne."

"Don't worry about it, dear. It feels good to know I can still turn a few heads when I want to! Now here, have a cookie. Just one, though! Don't want to spoil your appetite for dinner."

She gave that last word a bit of an odd inflection, you thought. But you awkwardly mumbled something about thanks, and tried to fumble for a cookie while simultaneously avoiding any kind of eye contact. You noticed you were actually trembling a bit. If you had looked upwards, you would have spotted a wide smirk forming on Dianne's face - and an unmistakable twitch in her nethers.

"Hmm, that's right, honey, eat up and enjoy. Now enjoy your games, you two, and I'll see you downstairs in just a bit!"

"Y-yeah, later.", you muttered as you chomped into the cookie absent-mindedly. It was surprisingly bland and tasteless, however - perhaps that's why Greg had apparently declined to take any.

Oh well, you thought nothing more of it as Greg grabbed his controller and before you knew it, you were back in.

And then out.

Out into a deep, black nothingness..

*gluck, urck, hngh*

The sounds of gargled, sloppy **** and a staccato of rhythmic, wet slapping sounds slowly came through the haze as you groggily opened your eyes.

"Uggh...", you groaned, waking slowly from a dark, dreamless slumber.

The first thing you saw woke you right up, however. You were no longer up in Greg's room, it seemed. Completely disoriented, you had trouble immediately placing where you were, exactly - but one thing was disturbingly clear.

On a table in front of you lay your young friend Greg, completely naked and face up. Towering over his face, Dianne was violently slamming her enormous cock into his throat as she bent over him, keeping Greg's arms pinned to the table with her hands. His knees seemed bound to the table, somehow, but his lower legs were twitching and flailing wildly as his own mother was grunting and hissing with exertion, pounding her full weight into her son's skull with lustful abandon.

She was still wearing the dress, but her breasts were now fully exposed and dangling over her helpless son. Gigantic, fat and covered in blue veins, they swayed and clapped together hypnotically and dripped with sweat.

Dianne turned her gaze to you.

"Oh, Dougie, honey, you're awake! Just a, *haah*, second, dear.", she crooned as the pushed her full girth into her spasming boy with delight, straight to the hilt and holding it there. You could clearly see the outline of her pulsating dick ballooning Greg's entire throat - it looked excruciating.

Dianne maintained eye contact with you as she kept her full penis sheathed forcefully. Greg was clearly losing breath, and began to flail and twitch ever more desperately as Dianne moaned in satisfaction. Eventually, to your horror, he slowed, stopped twitching, then stopped moving altogether - and his mother gave a lusty cackle as she slowly withdrew, her sheer girth seeming to drag Greg's entire unmoving frame along with it until she finally popped free and slid out of his mouth, accompanied by a wave of frothy saliva, vomit and precum. She was still fully erect.

"Wh-what the fuck is going on?", you croaked. "Is - is Greg...? Did you...?"

"Kill him? No, don't be silly dear. Just passed out, nothing to worry about!", Dianne replied cheerfully. "We do this all the time."

The absurdity of the situation had yet to sink in completely, and you were most immediately occupied with concern over your friend. Luckily, relatively speaking, he did seem to just be ****.

"You mean - **** him out? A- all the time?", you asked in a shrill voice. "That's... What about brain damage?"

"Brain damage?"

Dianne chortled dismissively, then tapped her skull.

"Oh honey, you're boys - not much up there to damage, now, is there?"

She sighed contentedly as she casually wiped her froth-covered fuckstick off in Greg's hair.

At this point, you slowly became more aware of your surroundings. You were clearly in the dining room, and spotted a fully decked dining table behind you. Greg was strapped to the salon table to the side, and you were sat on a chair in a viewing position. And as you tried to stand up, you noticed to your dismay that you had been fully tied up - hands at the back of the chair and your feet to the chair's legs. You were completely immobile.

Panic began to sink in as you struggled against your bonds.

"What the fuck's going on, Dianne? Did - did you fucking **** me? Let me fucking go!"

Dianne giggled excitedly as she noticed your defiant distress. "Ooo, this is gonna be so much fun!"

She picked up a carton of cigarettes from the salon table, lit one up and put it between her lips before sauntering over to you - her dress fully open, all her goods on display as her rockhard dick swung from side to side. At spots wrinkly, droopy and with rolls of chubby belly bouncing as she moved, she nevertheless exuded a sheer, breathtaking sexual confidence. A sheen of sweat covered her all over and gave her an almost otherworldly gleam.

As she approached and looked down on you from her baggy, heavily mascaraed eyes, she swung her high-heeled right leg up and slammed her foot hard on the seat of your chair - right between your legs. You gave a yelp as she just barely missed spearing your genitals with her heel. Her cock was now right at eye-level, and only a few inches from your face at that.

As cocks go, it was immaculate; massive and rock-hard, at least 16 inches long. It turned slightly upwards, where an almost perfectly spherical cockhead just peeked out through thick rolls of foreskin. And it was fat, at least as thick as your upper arm, and thickest in the middle. A saggy, bulbous scrotum dangled quite low underneath; clean-shaven, as you had suspected earlier, but all wrinkly skin and heavy weight. Like a stretched out tote bag carrying a pair of small melons.

In spite of Dianne's cleaning efforts, her whole shlong was still covered with a sheen of Greg's saliva mixed with Dianne's own precum. And staring directly at her precariously twitching piss-slit, you could see thick layers of yellowish smegma hidden away in her foreskin folds.

The smell was incredible; and sickening. A mix of fishiness, rotten eggs, tobacco and pure, filthy sex hit your olfactories like a brick hammer. You got the distinct feeling her own son's throat might be just about the only cleaning Dianne ever gave the thing.

Poor Greg.

Poor you? What the hell was going on?

"Dianne,", you pleaded, "What - what's happening? Look, I - I don't understand."

She relished the confused, panicked look in your eyes for a few moments - taking another drag of her cigarette - before sighing in faux-exasperation.

"Well alright, I'll make it simple. I'm a woman, Doug, I have needs. Little Greg fulfills them, up to a point, but you know - all women need a bit of variety here and there. Sometimes, only one boy at a time just doesn't cut it. And you're so young, dumb and pretty... Just how I like 'em. You push all my buttons, dear. Have for years..."

She licked her lips.

"I've been watching you, you know, ever since Lisa had you. Watching you grow, watching you fill out in all the right places, looking forward to whenever I could finally... have you."

The thick veins running across Dianne's shaft began to throb, even more fully engorging and hardening her giant hog.

She took another puff as you listened on in shock.

"And tonight's the night, honey. Lisa finally gave the go-ahead, and I intend to celebrate."

Your mind snapped at attention the moment Dianne dropped your mother's name.

"Mom!", you exclaimed. "You can't - she said -- she'll be here later!"

Dianne smiled genuinely. "Yes she will; naturally her one condition for breaking you in is that she could join in on the fun. And have a bit of a rumpus with my own darling boy, of course, while we're at it. Happy to oblige, call it a family exchange."

You couldn't believe - you didn't believe it. Your own mother, selling you out like - like some cheap whore? What was Dianne talking about?

"But she was courteous enough to give me a few hours with the both of you first, all to myself."

Suddenly, catching you completely by surprise, Dianne's cock twitched once and shot out a quick spurt of thick, gunky semen straight into your open left eye.

"Agh, ow! What the fuck?!", you recoiled in disgust and pain, desperately shaking your head and blinking to fling the pungent goop out your socket. Even then, it left a stinging pain and a grimy film of cum smeared in and around the eye, and you were tearing up.

"Oops, yeah, I pre-lube a lot when I'm excited. You might want to get used to that.", Dianne chuckled.

That explains the ridiculous amount of smegma, you thought.

But your primary thoughts were of disgust, of pain, and indignant humiliation. This was surreal; Dianne, a woman you had known since you were a kid. Who had always been like an aunt to you. Mother to one your best friends. Best friend to your Mom! Now leaning over you like a towering predator, with a hunger and a glee in her eyes that scared you.

"Now here's what's gonna happen, Dougie honey. It's been too long since I've had two boys at my disposal at the same time. I wanna milk the opportunity. You two'll have to do stuff to each other, of course; for me to watch, for my enjoyment. Do you understand? And of course I will make full use of you both sexually, myself.", Dianne began to explain, suddenly utterly business-like and nonchalant - like a grade school teacher laying out an itinerary. But her throbbing erection and staggered breath, dripping with arousal, betrayed the illusion somewhat.

"But there will have to be a pecking order, of course. I can barely wait to tear into that bubble butt of yours, Dougie...", she said almost wistfully, "...but Greg is my own boy; I can't just hand out that privilege right in our first session, it wouldn't be fair to him. You'll have to work your way up to his level."

You were dazed by the recitation and barely processing the words because of the shock, but you picked up on your friend's name. "Wh-what about Greg?", you asked meekly.

"Oh, I'm going to fuck him, of course.", Dianne moaned. "And hard, too. He's going to be bucking and begging me to stop. Hmm, it'll be amazing. I can't be going easy on my own kid, after all. Every boy needs to know his place."

Another, mercifully smaller, drip of semen pulsed out of her penis, splattering on your torso.

"I'm going to run through that little whore like a disposable fucktoy, the way it should be."

Dianne continued. Her pitch seemed to gradually be decreasing, a hint of anticipation building. "But you, Dougie, you will be a rung lower even than that. You will service us both, at my whim, and function as our fluffer, -- UNG"

Another spurt of precum as Dianne shivered.

"-- cleaner and -- well, receptacle." She added the last word with a knowing, almost pitying smirk. "I will enjoy it."

The emphasis on the "I" remained unspoken, but felt.