Alex In Pornoland

CHAPTER ONE: ALEX WAKES UP TO A DIFFERENT WORLD AFTER AN ACCIDENT

“Alex! Are you out of bed yet? You’ve got that audition today, remember?”

I groaned at the sound of my mother’s raucous voice that came shouting up the stairs as I finished getting dressed. One of these days, I kept telling myself, I’d get a good job, a good acting gig that paid well and I could move the hell out of the family home and into a place of my own. Twenty years old and still living at home -- trust me, it sucks.

“Yeah, big brother, don’t want to miss your chance for an Oscar, do you?” came the voice of my sister. As if living with my obnoxious mother wasn’t bad enough, I had to deal with the eighteen year old version of her as well.

“Fuck you, Chelsea,” I muttered under my breath, pulling my tie up and looking at myself in the mirror.

My parents had both been lookers in their earlier years and I’d inherited their good looks if nothing else, even if I say it myself. Dark hair, square jaw, green eyes, standing nearly six feet tall, I’d had more than my share of girlfriends. Of course, most of them had smiled and walked away after seeing my less than impressive dick. Those that had stuck around hadn’t exactly been impressed by inability to last more than a couple of minutes in bed. Judging from the ridicule my mother used to pour on my father, that’s something else I’d inherited.

Great, I thought, just the things to dwell on before an audition. That’ll get my confidence up.

My mother, Lisa, was making breakfast for her and Chelsea in the kitchen when I got down there; no sign of any food for me.

“Didn’t want you to get anything on your suit,” she said when I complained.

Like I said, she’d been good looking in years gone by but now, ten years after my father’s death in a factory accident, she’d long gone to seed. Overweight, lank hair, bad skin -- I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her looking anything other than like that.

Chelsea was turning into a younger version of her, as well. Not quite as fat yet, but getting there, all the weight was in her belly and thighs, leaving her no tits to speak of. Her hair, like mine and our mother’s, was dark but untidy; I don’t think she’d ever had it professionally cut. As to boyfriends? She’d a bit of a reputation a few years before of being a prick tease, leading guys on but never giving up the goods. Now, I don’t think she’d had a guy even ring her for months.

“So what’s the part for?” Chelsea asked, eating her fried bread, eggs, bacon and beans.

“Just a small part on a soap,” I said, picking up my car keys from the board on the wall.

“You should be the man for the job if they want a small part,” Chelsea said with a smirk. I’d gone out with one of her friends a year or two ago and she’d delighted in telling my sister of my small dick.

“Fuck off,” I said wearily.

“Alex? Language,” my mother said automatically, not even looking up from her breakfast.

“I gotta get going,” I said, heading out the door and to the car.

An hour or so later and I was in the city, heading to my agent’s office. I’d signed up with Darla Lassiter a year before and she’d found me several auditions over the last few months which had led to some one off jobs, but no steady work. Today’s job, she thought, had the best chance of becoming a repeating job.

“You’re looking good, Alex,” she said to me, “but you need to wow them today. I know the producer but I can’t swing anything for you; it’s all down to you, okay?”

Darla was a no-nonsense sort of woman who’d been in the business for years. Mid-thirties, blonde and skinny as a bean pole, me and a couple of her other clients suspected her of being a lesbian. We’d never seen any sign of her love life, with a man or a woman, but she’d rejected several of the men who worked for her, myself included, so we just assumed she wasn’t into guys.

She gave me the details of the audition again, who I’d be seeing, who I’d be playing, where I’d be going, and ran through some scripts with me to get me in the right frame of mind. Soon, though, it was time for me to head off and do my thing.

The drive to the audition was long due to the amount of traffic and I found myself worrying that I wouldn’t make it on time. Stuck at some lights, I saw a small alleyway that seemed to cut between a builders’ yard and an office block and would, if I was right, save me about twenty minutes. As the lights changed, I swung hard on the wheel, turning across the oncoming traffic that was just leaving their lights, heading for the alley -- and the car stalled.

“Fuck!” I shouted, sat in a powerless car that straddled two lanes of oncoming traffic.

I reached for the key as I heard the loud blare of a horn which made me glance up just in time to see the front of the truck that slammed into my car and sent me rolling up the street and into unconsciousness.

† † † † †

“That’s it, baby -- suck that cock.”

“Mmmmm -- I love your big dick -- make me take it -- make me glummpppffff -- ackkk -- ggacckkk -- koffff -- aahhhh, God yeah -- mmmllffff!”

I half opened my eyes and slowly turned my head to the sounds.

Some guy sat in a chair, trousers around his ankles, long white coat falling to the floor, his admittedly big dick being enthusiastically sucked by a nurse who knelt between his thighs, her head being guided up and down by both his hands.

She was stunning; she looked like she’d stepped out of a porno set in a hospital. Gorgeous face, tiny white uniform that was open to reveal her red lingerie: g-string, stockings, suspenders and a bra that was currently fighting to contain two huge, round tits.

“Fuck -- cumming!” the doctor groaned.

The nurse reared back and grabbed his cock, jerking on it frantically as it started pulsing and bucking in her hand. Streams of jizz spurted from his dick, coating her face over and over as she moaned and purred in delight. I’d seen enough porn in my time to know he was giving her a facial worthy of an award and she was taking it like it was the best thing in the world.

I closed my eyes again, thinking this was a strange dream, and everything went dark.

† † † † †

Dream or no dream, when I woke up sometime later, I was definitely in a hospital bed, laid in a small room with a couple of chairs to one side and a bedside cabinet to another. An IV tube was stuck in my left arm and my right was held aloft and in plaster. As I turned my head, I could feel a thick bandage wrapped around it.

“Fuck,” I whispered, my throat sore. “Least I’m not dead,” I said as I remembered the truck heading towards the car.

“Mr Taylor. You’re awake,” a man said from the door of the room. It was a doctor; he might have been the man from my dream but I couldn’t be sure that had even happened. “How do you feel?”

“Sore,” I croaked. He took some water from the cabinet and poured me a glass, offering me a straw to sip it through. “Thanks.”

“You had a nasty accident. Do you remember much about it?”

“The car stalled; there was a truck coming; that’s pretty much it,” I said.

“Okay. I understand the police are going to want to talk to you as well, just as a formality. All the witnesses describe the same sort of thing happening, but they need to do the right thing, of course. Now, can you remember your name, how old you are?”

Turned out I could, as well as answering a few other basic questions like the date of the accident (which had been three weeks before) but when it came to world figures like the President of America or the Prime Minister of Britain, I was coming up with names he’d never heard of. When he told me who was in those roles, he could have been making names up for all I knew.

“Well, let’s not worry about that right now,” he said. “We’ll get you back in for some tests in a week or so but for now, your mother and sister are here to take you home.”

As if waiting for a cue, they stepped into the room -- and I nearly passed out in shock.

My mother looked like she did twenty or more years ago: she was slim again, wearing figure hugging jeans and a cropped vest top that left her tiny waist bare; her make-up, what little there was, was immaculate and she looked gorgeous; her hair was piled up on her head in a big 80’s style perm.

Chelsea was still a younger version of her: slim but not skinny, her legs revealed from beneath a very short tartan skirt; knee high socks and a tight blouse completing a sort of slutty school girl look; her hair was short and spiky, though, and her make-up was dark and gothic, her black lipstick set off by a studded collar around her neck.

As if that wasn’t a hell of a change, both of them had huge tits as big as their heads. I mean seriously big -- Tiffany Towers, Sarenna Lee, Wendy Whoppers style big. Don’t know those names? Go search Google and you’ll see what I mean.

“Mom? Chelsea?” I gasped.

“Oh sweetie, thank God you’re alive!” my mother said, rushing over and hugging me as carefully as she could, her huge tits squashing against my chest.

“We were so worried about you,” Chelsea said, moving around to the other side of the bed and hugging me from that side, being careful not to hit my plastered arm.

Four enormous, round tits pressed against me and even though they apparently belonged to my mother and sister, I couldn’t help glancing down mom’s vest top and Chelsea’s wide open blouse. I’ve always had a thing for big tits -- that’s why the models I named above came instantly to mind -- but this was the closest I’d ever come to any this size.

Beneath the covers, I felt my dick start to stir -- which gave me another surprise. Unless I was very much mistaken, my old familiar member had undergone some changes as well. Something to investigate at a later time, I thought.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” I said, feeling them stand up. “I’m liking the -- the new look,” I said, nodding at both of them.

“What new look?” my mother said, looking confused.

“We’ve always looked like this, Alex,” Chelsea said. They both turned to the doctor.

“There’s the small possibility of some memory loss,” he explained. “To be expected in cases like this. We’ll get him back in next week for some tests but on the whole, he’s good to go home.”

“You hear that, sweetie?” my mother said. “We can get you home today.”

“Your son’s obviously going to need some help doing everyday tasks,” the doctor said. “So please be ready to help him when he needs it.”

“What sort of help, doctor?” Chelsea asked.

“Bathing and dressing, mostly. His right arm’s going to be in plaster for another week so that’s going to limit his movements. Alex?” he turned to me. “You’re going to have to put up with this pair of lovely ladies being at your beck and call for a while. Think you can manage that?”

I looked at the new versions of my mother and sister, my gaze dropping to their huge chests for a second, before smiling up at the doctor.

“I’ll try,” I said.

† † † † †

Later that morning I sat in the passenger seat of my mother’s car, waiting for her and my sister to finish up in the hospital before they took me home.

A man, dressed in a long black coat and a wearing a black, wide brimmed hat walked over to the car and tapped at my window. I wound it down a little and looked up into his white, drawn face. He really didn’t look well: thin, sunken cheeks and eyes, pasty white complexion, dark shadows around his yellowed eyes.

“You’re not meant to be here,” he said.

“Well I’m waiting for my mother; I’ve just been discharged -- “

“No. You’re not meant to be -- here,” he said again, emphasising the last word.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“The truck should have killed you. You should not be here.”

We stared at each other, him just looking at me, his eyes never blinking, me sat in shock at his words.

A moment later he turned and walked away.

“Hey sweetie,” my mother said as she as Chelsea got in the car just as the man in the black coat stepped out of sight. “Ready to go home?”

“Sure,” I said. I turned back to her and smiled, glancing down at her tits again which made her smile indulgently back at me. “Sure. Let’s go home.”

CHAPTER TWO: ALEX IS TAKEN CARE OF BY HIS MOM AND SISTER

Despite the obvious changes to my life since I woke up from the coma after the traffic accident, I still expected mom to drive me and Chelsea back to our little mid-row house that we shared. Instead, she drove out of Springdale -- which looked nothing like I remembered it -- to an area I’d never seen or heard of before -- Rockway Hills. The place was populated with big houses, mansions really, set back from the road, all overlooking the city below. There was some serious money here and as I watched the scenery through the car window, I wondered just where we were going.

“Here we are, sweetie,” my mother said as she pulled the car off the road and into a drive leading up to one of the huge houses. “Home sweet home.”

I sat and stared at the place: three stories high, a huge garden, balconies along the upper levels and, as I would discover, an enormous pool out the back.

“We live here?” I asked.

“Of course we do, sweetie,” my mother said as she opened my door and helped me out, taking care not to knock my right arm which was in plaster. Chelsea was instantly at my other side, trying to help.

“Wow, you really have lost your memory, haven’t you?” she asked kindly. She was so different from the sister I remembered -- not just in looks (though the sexy, big titted, goth schoolgirl look was a world away from what I was used to) but also in how she treated me: she obviously cared for me which was a pleasant change.

“Let’s get you inside and we’ll worry about your memory later,” my mother said. “Chelsea, get the door, sweetie?”

As my mom helped me up the drive and the steps, Chelsea ran ahead and sister or no, there was no way I could stop myself staring at her pert little ass as it flashed at me from beneath her tiny tartan skirt.

“Haven’t lost your appreciation of sexy girls, I see?” mom whispered, leaning in to me.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Guess I shouldn’t be looking at my sister like that.”

“Being related has never stopped you before,” she said. “Hell, you should know both of us love having you pay attention to us like that,” my mom said with a big smile.

“What are you two talking about?” Chelsea asked as we drew level with the door.

“Alex was just watching that little ass of yours bounce up the steps,” our mother said before I could say anything.

“Just my ass, big brother?” she asked, cupping her big, round tits and giving them a squeeze, making them bulge out the top of the tight blouse she wore. She laughed at my startled expression and ran inside the house.

“Chelsea, go and make us all some coffee,” my mother laughingly called after her as we walked inside. “I’m going to get Alex up to his room.”

Still stunned, I let my mother lead me up the wide marble stairs -- marble stairs? Seriously?! -- to the second floor and my room which turned out to be more of a complete suite. Sure there was a bedroom with a very large bed dominating the whole thing, but there was a sunken lounge area, an en suite shower and bathroom and even a small breakfast bar affair with my own coffee pot, refrigerator and small sink.

“This is my room?” I asked as mom led me over to the sunken lounge and helped me sit down. My arm was the only thing broken but both legs had taken a battering in the accident and my ribs were bruised as well, so I sat down with some relief.

“Sure is, sweetie,” mom said, leaning over and brushing my hair out of my eyes, giving me a fantastic -- and deliberate -- view down her cropped top. Her perfect, huge tits nestled together, the cleavage dark and oh so inviting. She smiled as she saw me looking. “We should probably get you changed out of that hospital gown,” she said. “God knows who’s worn it before you.”

I looked down at the basic green, all in one thing the hospital had given me to go home in. “I guess so,” I said, glancing round the room, having no idea where my clothes were.

“You stay there, I’ll get you something,” mom said. She headed off to the bedroom area and I watched as she went through some drawers and a wardrobe. She made a big show of bending over at the waist, her round ass pointing back at me, and smiled every time she looked back and caught me staring. Eventually she returned with a loose shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. “Come on, sit up and let’s get that thing off you,” she said.

I did as she asked and she leaned into me again, reaching behind my neck to untie the knot, thrusting her big tits into my face. For some reason it took her a minute or so to get it undone, all the while, rolling her huge jugs against my face. God knows how I resisted grabbing hold of them and stuffing them in my mouth. Unsurprisingly, my cock reacted as just about any straight man’s would and started swelling. Unless I was mistaken, that was something else about this weird fucking world that had changed too.

“There we go,” mom said, finally stepping back and before I could do anything, whipping the entire gown off me, the large arm hole thankfully missing my plastered arm, and leaving me naked. Both of us stared at the huge cock that sprang up in my lap.

Before the accident -- in what I was starting to think of as the Old World -- I wasn’t exactly blessed in the penis department. Just about every girlfriend I’d had was less than impressed and I honestly couldn’t blame them. Now though, to match my mother’s and sister’s porn star sized tits, it looked like I’d been upgraded as well: that was about a foot long cock that stood proudly out of my groin, above a pair of balls that looked to be the size of two lemons.

“Fuck,” I said in amazement.

“Are you offering, sweetie?” my mother asked. I suddenly realised I was naked in front of her with a hard-on and tried to cover myself up.

“What? No!” I said automatically -- this was my mother, after all, despite all the flirting that we’d been doing.

“Shame,” she said quietly with a gentle shrug of her shoulders. “I wondered if the memory loss might have changed your mind.” My blank look made her smile kindly. “Despite our jobs and everything, you’ve always had this moral code about me and Chelsea.” She shrugged again. “I sort of wondered -- hoped -- if things might have changed.”

“Our -- our jobs?” I asked, confused as all hell.

My mother looked genuinely sad for a moment as she realised I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Don’t worry about that now,” she said. “We’re just happy you’re safe and back home.” She dropped to her knees between my legs and held up my shorts. “Now, let’s get you dressed.”

I slowly lifted one leg, allowing her to slide the shorts halfway up before doing the same with the other. She pulled them up to my knees, bringing my legs together, then leaned up and over me.

“You’re going to have to lift your ass up so I can get these under you,” she said with a smirk.

“I could -- I could probably manage,” I said.

“Oh hush. Doctor’s orders, remember?”

Bracing my shoulders against the back of the sofa and with my feet on the floor, I lifted my ass up. My mom took hold of the waist band of the shorts and pulled them up my thighs, dropping her torso on to my waist. Her huge tits landed on my hands that were still covering my dick and ballooned out the top of her T-shirt.

“You have to move your hands, sweetie,” she said with a devilish smile.

I slowly moved both hands aside, leaving my rock hard monster cock nestling beneath and between her enormous tits, separated from them only by the thin cotton of her top. Staring at me all the while, gently biting her bottom lip, she pushed and pulled and wrestled with my shorts, rolling and moving her tits over my dick, grinning as I looked down and watched her mounds slide all over it. She glanced down, staring at the head of my mammoth cock as it poked out from beneath her tits, then looked up at me.

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you, sweetie?” she asked quietly. Her tongue slid out from between her lips and licked them, slowly. “Maybe just a blow job?”

Mother or not, I had to admit I was incredibly tempted right then, not to mention incredibly fucking horny. We stared at each other, my apparently never softening prick pulsing beneath the weight of her fantastic tits.

“What’s happening here?” Chelsea said with a smirk from the doorway.

The moment broken, I managed to use my good left hand to ease my mother back a little and pull my shorts closed over my hard-on. Mom actually pouted a little as she knelt back up, then winked at me.

“Just following the doctor’s advice and helping Alex dress,” mom said as Chelsea walked in carrying a tray with three coffee mugs on it and sat beside me on the sofa.

“Uh-huh,” my sister said, obviously not believing her. She openly stared at the big lump in my shorts as mom took her drink and I reached for mine. “Looked more like you were trying to get Alex’s dick in your mouth,” she said with a big grin, the pair of them laughing as I blushed.

What the fuck was going on here? I wondered.

“By the way, big brother,” Chelsea said, reaching over and prodding the still hard lump in my shorts when she said big, “there’s a message on the phone from Darla. Sounds like she found out the hospital let you home and she wonders if you’re -- up -- for a visit.” Another prod, leaving her finger against my dick just a little longer this time.

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” mom said. “The sooner she gets you back in front of the camera the better.” She looked back at my stiffy. “Not that she’ll find that -- too hard.”

She and Chelsea giggled and, for the first time in what seemed like forever, I found myself laughing with them.

† † † † †

We spent the rest of the day relaxing and, from my point of view, getting to know them, while they spent a lot of time flirting not only with me but each other, sometimes for my benefit, sometimes not. At the end of the day we sat in the huge lounge and watched a horror film together, Chelsea climbing into our mom’s lap because she claimed to be scared. I couldn’t be a hundred percent certain but from where I sat it looked like mom took her mind off the movie by slipping her hand up Chelsea’s skirt. I half-watched my sister move gently up and down, her eyes half-closed, her breathing coming in gasps as -- I think -- our mom fingered her pussy.

It was, I guess, no surprise that my sleep was filled with dreams of the pair of them.

The next morning over breakfast, mom told me she’d been in touch with Darla, my agent, and was going to take me into Springdale to see her.

“I need to pick up a few things anyway,” she said, “so I’ll drop you at Darla’s office and pick you up later if that’s okay?”

“Sure, mom, thanks,” I said, looking at her. Skin tight jeans once again showed off her lovely legs and her perfect, round ass. A low-cut spaghetti vest top struggled to keep her huge tits inside it, displaying a massive cleavage and a fair amount of side boob. I looked away as I felt my cock stirring beneath the loose dressing gown I’d managed to pull on over my plastered arm.

She stood in front of me as I drank my coffee, putting one hand on her hip, the other on the table, leaning forward, her tits right in my eye line.

“You need any help getting dressed?” she asked softly, staring at me with a big smile.

“No fair, mom,” Chelsea said from the doorway -- it was obviously a habit of hers. “You helped him yesterday. Surely it’s my turn?”

We both looked over at her. Gone was the goth schoolgirl look, replaced instead with a pair of plain, pink cotton pajamas that she still managed to look sexy in. The fact that the top was unbuttoned almost to her navel and was spread wide by her big tits helped, of course.

“I suppose so, sweetie,” mom said, kissing her lightly on the lips as she came into the kitchen-cum-breakfast area. “But you’re going to have to hurry if we’re going to make the appointment,” she said, pointing up at the clock.

“Come on, big brother,” Chelsea said with a smile, taking my drink out of my hand and placing it on the table. She took my hand and led me out and back up to my room. Once there, she took me over towards the bed, leaving me standing as she rummaged through my clothes, looking for something for me.

“I could -- I could manage to -- to do this on my own, Chels,” I said nervously, watching her go through the same moves our mother had the day before. She bent at the waist, the pajamas clinging to her gorgeous, pert little ass, her huge tits straining against her top.

“No can do, Al,” she said. “Got to do what the doctor told us, remember? Help you with bathing and dressing, that’s what he said.” She smiled at me as she held up another pair of shorts and a baggy T-shirt. “And you’re going to need a shower this evening, I’m guessing.”

She dropped the T-shirt on the bed and the shorts at my feet then took hold of my dressing gown and pushed it off, the cord unravelling at my waist, leaving me naked. Maintaining eye contact all the while, she slowly dropped to her knees in front of me, her huge tits brushing against me every now and then. She only looked away when she came level with my big dick which, while not fully hard, was definitely more than a semi and pointed out almost horizontally, bobbing beside her head.

“Oh wow,” she breathed, staring at it. She moved closer and I could feel her hot breath against it as she examined it close up. “You’re so fucking big, Al,” she said quietly.

I looked down at her, unable to move, unable to speak. My hugely titted sister knelt in front of me transfixed by my cock. Part of my brain -- okay, it was mostly my dick -- wanted to just move to one side and slip the head of my knob into her mouth while the rest of me was screaming “This is your sister, dude! Don’t you dare!”

“I’ve never had a dick this big,” she said looking up at me again. “But I’d really -- really -- like to.”

I swallowed nervously, still unable to speak or move or do anything except watch.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head, laying her cool cheek against my heavy prick, moving her face along its length once or twice.

Somehow I found my voice.

“Chelsea -- Chelsea -- I can’t,” I said, surprising myself at how sad I sounded.

She opened her eyes and looked up at me again, smiling despite her obvious disappointment.

“Okay, big brother,” she said. “I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to.”

She reached beside her for my shorts and directed my legs, lifting first one then the other into them just as our mother had yesterday. She moved around a little, wiggling them up my calves, before leaning back and then forward, kneeling up quickly.

I watched as my big dick, still half-hard and now trapped between us, slipped down the front of her pajamas and between her big tits. I gasped at the feeling, groaning as Chelsea moved her upper arms together, sandwiching my cock in her cleavage.

“Oops,” she said with a smile, not sorry in the slightest.

“Chelsea?” I gasped, simultaneously loving the feeling of her huge mounds of tit flesh squeezing my cock and panicking at having my dick anywhere near my sister.

“Sorry,” she giggled. “Guess I should have seen that coming, eh?” She moved again, my dick sliding around in her cleavage. “Have to admit it feels real good, though,” she sighed.

“Chelsea -- I can’t,” I said again.

“Okay, big brother,” she said with that same smile. “Then you’d best take your dick out from between my titties, don’t you think?”

We stared at each other as I slowly, oh so fucking slowly, used my left hand to take hold of my big cock and pulled it free of her cleavage. I couldn’t help groaning at the feeling of her hot, firm flesh against my dick, the biggest pair of tits I’d ever had wrapped around it, and here I was, turning them down.

As my cock popped free, Chelsea stared at it and blew it a kiss before pulling up my shorts, letting me tuck myself away before she did them up. She pulled on my T-shirt over my head, carefully feeding my arm through it, then patted my still bulging crotch.

“See you later, big brother,” she said, standing on tip-toe and kissing me briefly on the lips. “Your sneakers are slip-ons so you should be able to manage those.”

With that, she skipped out of the room.

† † † † †

Darla Lassiter, it seemed, was still my agent but whereas in the Old World she’d had a single room office above a small store, here she was part of a thriving partnership that she was in charge of. Mom drove me into the city and let me out of the car outside the building of Lassiter, Dash and Collins, a big, sleek multi-storied office building with mirrored windows and a big reception hall.

“You’ll be fine, sweetie,” mom said, leaning over the passenger seat and looking out the window at me. She knew full well her vest top was bulging under the weight of her huge tits, giving me a fantastic view of her cleavage. “Just ask for Darla at the reception desk and she’ll come and get you. I’ll pick you up in an hour or so, okay?”

“Okay, mom,” I said, watching as she drove away.

I turned to the entrance, stopping as a man, dressed in a long black coat and a wearing a black, wide brimmed hat stepped in front of me, the same man that had talked to me outside the hospital the day before.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, same as yesterday.

“Who are you?” I asked, wincing at his sunken cheeks and eyes and his pale, sallow complexion “What do you mean I shouldn’t be here?”

“You need to go home,” he said, never blinking. “You need to get back to your world.”

“What? How do I do that?”

“You need to leave here.”

He stared at me for a moment longer then walked off, turning round a corner and out of sight.

“Weird,” I said to myself. Whoever he was, he obviously knew something was odd about me, about this world I’d woken up in. He knew this wasn’t my world, my reality, and wanted me to go back to the old one.

I thought about my mom and Chelsea and wondered if I wanted to go back to the Old World.

Still wondering, I walked into the office building to meet with my agent.

CHAPTER THREE: ALEX MEETS HIS AGENT WHO CLUES HIM IN

The big reception hall of Lassiter, Dash and Collins was busy to say the least. Dozens of people moved to and from, most of them very good looking girls with figures built for porn. They moved to and then away from the central reception hub, a circular desk in the centre of the floor manned by three attractive, busty young women. As I stepped up to the desk, one of them, a cute blonde, looked up and smiled automatically for the briefest second before her smile, and her eyes, became wider as she apparently recognised me.

“Good mor -- oh, Mr Hazard, oh it’s so good to see you back,” she said, confusing the shit out of me as my surname’s Taylor.

“Ummmm, I think you have the wrong person,” I said a little uncertainly, watching perplexed as the two other receptionists turned at her words.

“Mr Hazard, thank goodness you’re back,” one of them said, ignoring my words, before the other said “We were so worried when we heard about your accident, Mr Hazard.”

It might have been wrong of me -- they obviously thought I was someone else -- but having three cute, busty girls coo over me was kinda flattering. I also noticed one or two of the other girls in the room casting their eye over me, nudging each other and pointing me out.

“Well -- thank you, ladies,” I said, smiling back at them. “I’m here to see Darla Lassiter.”

“Of course, Mr Hazard,” the first receptionist said, pressing a button on her console. “I’ll buzz Miss Lassiter’s secretary.”

The three receptionists returned to dealing with other customers, though they’d occasionally glance over at me and smile. I have to admit to loving the attention but eventually, another young lady tapped me on the arm and said “Mr Hazard?”

She too was good looking with a mass of dark hair piled up on her head in a neat but looks untidy sort of style. She wore a black skirt and white blouse and had a pair of round specs perched on the end of her nose. In one hand she held a clipboard, in the other a pen. She looked like the perfect definition of a secretary in other words.

“Please come with me, Miss Lassiter will see you now,” she said, turning and heading to the elevators over on one wall. I waved goodbye with my good hand -- my right was still in plaster -- to the receptionists and followed the pertly jiggling ass of my agent’s secretary.

Since when did Darla have a secretary anyway? I wondered as we rode the elevator up to the top floor. Back in what I was thinking of more and more as the Old World, her business was a one-woman affair -- she had a single room office above a small store and dealt with everything herself. She didn’t have enough clients to need a secretary and yet here she was, so my mother told me, as lead partner in a thriving business.

Her secretary led me from the elevators down a short corridor before tapping on an office door, letting me in then closing it as she left to do whatever she had to.

I glanced around Darla’s office which was so different from the one I was used to in the Old World. Here there was a massive wooden desk with keyboard, monitor, mouse, desktop pads and pens and a huge leather seat behind it. The window looked out on to the Springdale cityscape with a view that was breath-taking and so different to the town I knew in the Old World. A mini-bar stood in one corner, a large sofa in another and, from behind a door next to that, came the sound of running water, presumably an en suite bathroom.

Around the walls hung movie posters with titles and images that left me in no doubt what sort of films this world’s Darla was providing actors for -- The Italian Boob Job showed three hugely titted women astride red, white and blue Minis; Avengers ASS-emble had female superheroes bent over, their asses to the camera, looking back over their shoulders; Charlene’s Angels had three other big titted girls as private investigators; Meet The Fuckers had an almost wholesome family scene before you realised the dad’s hands were cupping his wife’s and daughter’s tits; Alien 3DP showed another big boobed babe in a sci-fi setting being menaced by three aliens with long tentacles.

Then Raiders of The Lost Ass caught my eye. A mock-up of the famous 1980’s film poster showed the hero in fedora, beaten up leather jacket, carrying a whip and fighting off Nazi’s. But here, the hero was a woman, Alabama Jones, whose shirt beneath her jacket barely contained two huge, perfect, round tits that squashed together forming a fantastic cleavage.

Alabama Jones was played by one Lisa Hazard.

My mother.

“That’s always been my favourite of your mother’s films,” Darla said from behind me, having walked in from the en suite.

I turned and, once again, was struck by how different things were here. Back in the Old World, Darla was a mid-thirties, dirty blonde women who was as skinny as a beanpole -- here she was an absolute MILF, just like my mother. White, platinum blonde hair down to her waist; long legs; a firm, round ass; a tiny waist; and, best of all, a pair of huge, round tits like almost every other woman in this world. All this was wrapped up under a severe yet sexy business suit that looked professional but couldn’t hide her figure.

“How are you feeling, Alex?” she asked, walking over and hugging me, taking care not to knock my plastered arm, her big tits squashing against my chest. The move caught me by surprise as we’d never been close in the Old World.

“I’m -- I’m good,” I said, feeling my cock lurch a little in my shorts.

“When I spoke to your mom,” Darla said, letting me go and heading to the mini-bar, “she said you were having problems with your memory.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” I said, taking the whisky and coke she offered me, watching as she sipped her own.

“What’s another?” she asked.

“That I don’t have a clue what’s going on around here,” I said, laughing a little despite the truth of it. “The receptionists kept calling me Mr Hazard which confused the hell out of me.”

We both sat down, Darla behind her desk, me on one of the comfortable chairs in front of it.

“That’s your screen name, Alex Hazard. When you decided to follow your mom into the business, you kept her screen surname.”

I indicated the poster for Raiders of The Lost Ass over my shoulder. “Which is why she’s called Lisa Hazard on the film poster back there?” Darla nodded. “Can I ask, what type of film is that? I mean, is it just a B-movie knock off or -- “

I left the question dangling, unsure whether I wanted to hear the answer I thought I was going to get.

“Oh, sweetie, you really have lost your memory, haven’t you?” Darla said with sympathy. “Your mother’s a porn star -- that film was the one that really made her name in the business and was the first one I produced.”

“You produced it?” I said, not sure why I was so surprised.

“I’d starred with your mom in about half a dozen films but wanted to get behind the camera as well as in front of it,” Darla said with a smile. “We became good friends so she was happy to star in my first film as producer and things just took off from there.”

“Wait, you’ve starred in porn films?” I asked.

“Now that does a girl’s ego no good,” she said. “I’ve starred in porn films with you and you don’t remember?” I stared at her, fucking amazed. She sighed, tapped at her keyboard and, moments later, turned the monitor round to face me.

On screen, Darla lay on her side on a table, wearing nothing more than stockings and suspenders, her huge tits moving gently as she sucked on the big cock of a coloured guy who stood at her head. Behind her, holding one leg up, spreading her legs wide as his slid his huge dick in and out of her pussy, was me.

I swear I heard my jaw drop open in surprise.

“Uh-huh -- uh-huh -- fuck me baby,” Darla said on screen, taking a break from sucking the black guy’s cock for a second.

“Holy shit,” I said from the chair, painfully aware that my dick had sprung to life and was bulging down the leg of my shorts.

“You seriously don’t remember this?” Darla asked, a little curious and maybe a little hurt as well. I silently shook my head. Darla tapped at her keyboard again, closing the media player and bringing up another file. This time a redheaded girl lay on a bed, legs spread wide as Darla knelt on all fours, eating her out. I was behind Darla, cramming my dick in her pussy again. “How about this one?”

Again, I slowly shook my head, my eyes glued to the screen.

“I’m a porn star?” I asked dumbly.

“Yep, and a damn good one, too,” Darla said. “Just like your mom.”

That shook me out of myself and brought me back to the first part of our conversation. “So my mom does porn as well?”

Darla laughed and again closed one file and opened another. She and my mother appeared on screen in a classic lesbian sixty nine, my mom on top, both of them naked except for stockings, mom in white, Darla in black. With all the hints from my mother over the last couple of days, with everything Darla had said, it shouldn’t have shocked me, but I couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of my mother and my agent engaging in full on, lip smacking, finger fucking, girl on girl sex. And I couldn’t help but feel my cock swell even more as I watched.

“Jesus,” I whispered.

Darla grinned. “You pair aren’t the only ones in your family, you know,” she said, once more closing the file and bringing up another. A younger girl with big tits appeared on screen, riding a skinny dude’s dick, gasping in pleasure as he fucked her. It was my sister, Chelsea.

“Jesus,” I said again. “Chelsea does porn, too?”

Darla laughed. “The three of you are pretty much porn’s first family,” she said proudly. “The fans love the fact you’re related.”

I looked at her, remembering something both Chelsea and my mom had said over the last couple of days about not doing things I didn’t want to.

“But I haven’t -- you know -- I haven’t with my mom or -- or my sister, have I?” I asked.

“No, as much as we all try and convince you to,” Darla said with a matter of fact smile.

“What? Really?” I gasped. “You want me to commit incest?”

Darla frowned. “Your head’s really messed up isn’t it?” she asked again, not unkindly. “Incest hasn’t been illegal for years, not since President Fitzgerald repealed it in the 60’s after genetic testing revealed the fears of inherited problems were unfounded. As long as everyone involved is over the age of eighteen and consenting, you can fuck anyone in your family that you like. As much as your mom and Chelsea are up for it, though, you’ve always resisted for some reason.”

For a moment I was baffled as a few questions rattled through my head -- who the hell was President Fitzgerald? Did they really have genetic testing in the 60’s? Incest is legal? -- before one percolated to the top.

“So -- my mom and Chelsea -- have they -- ?”

Darla didn’t bother saying anything, just opened up a new file and let me watch.

On the monitor, my sister wore a porno French maid’s outfit -- tiny skirt, frilly apron, white hat, blouse cut way down low to reveal her huge tits -- while my mom wore a large ball gown made of shiny silk or something. She’d pulled the bodice down and was cupping her own big jugs, her skirts pulled up to her waist, her legs spread wide. Chelsea knelt between them and was fucking her with a thick, black dildo, occasionally dipping her head to suck and lick at her pussy.

Once again I sat stunned into silence.

“That’s one of my biggest sellers,” Darla said after a while. “Fans love watching your mom and sister fuck on screen. I think the only thing that would be a bigger success is if you joined them.”

“I -- I can’t,” I said, for the first time finding myself wondering if I could. This was some weird, fucked up alternate reality world that I was in. Did the normal rules apply here? Not to others, obviously.

“Well, that’s your choice, Alex,” Darla said, shutting down the media player. “My immediate concern is finding out when you’re going to be ready to get back in front of the camera.”

“Ummm -- I’m not sure,” I said, a little thrown by her straightforward manner. “The cast is coming off in a few days,” I said, “so maybe after that?”

“That’ll be good timing,” Darla said. “Shoot magazine have finally agreed to pay what we’re asking for you so they’re keen to get you into some of their girls, and I know you are too.”

“Shoot magazine?” I asked, embarrassed by my lack of knowledge.

Darla sighed. “Yes, Shoot magazine. The one you’ve been trying to get into for the last year? The premiere magazine in the big boob market?” She reached into her drawer and tossed me over a small, glossy booklet. “Those are the girls that are going to be available and Shoot know their fans are going to love you working with them so they’re basically giving you your pick. Read through and let me know by the end of the week which ones you want me to set up for you.”

I looked at the booklet’s cover which showed a hugely titted, gorgeous model cupping her big melons and smiling at the camera, the Shoot logo above her head. He shoots, he scores, I thought, making the connection between the Old World and the New, realising what I had in my hands.

“Now, you head home because I’ve got work to do,” Darla said, standing up and kissing me on the cheek as I stood, giving me another hug. She gave my half-hard cock a friendly squeeze and then pointed me toward the door where her secretary was waiting to take me back down to the exit.

† † † † †

I stood in the sunshine outside Darla’s office building, waiting for my mother to come and pick me up, the brochure of the Shoot girls in my shorts pocket. I wanted to look through it, to browse the girls that were willing to work with me, to confirm my suspicions as to the names that would be in there, but figured I’d wait until I got home.

Home, where two of the horniest, sexiest, bustiest porn stars were living with me. Why did they have to be my mother and sister? Why did that have to bother me so much when it obviously didn’t bother them?

“You know you don’t belong here, don’t you?” a voice said from behind me.

“For fuck’s sake,” I said as I turned, expecting the thin, gaunt looking guy in black who’d approached me twice before. Instead, I found a gorgeous girl dressed all in white -- T-shirt, mini-skirt, shoes, sunglasses -- smiling up at me. For a second I wondered if any woman in this world was anything other than good looking, before her low cut top caught my eye and I dropped my gaze to her big tits and fantastic cleavage.

“Sorry,” I said. “I thought you -- ummm -- sorry.”

“You thought I was someone else,” the girl said with a smile. “Maybe a tall, skinny dude who dresses in black?”

“Ummm, yeah, actually. How’d you know?”

She shrugged. “I know all about him and his creepy, scary warnings. For all his ridiculous ways, he’s right -- like I said, you know you don’t belong here, don’t you?”

I sighed. “If you mean I’ve woken up to a world where my entire life’s changed and I don’t know how I’m supposed to react, then yeah, I guess so.”

She reached out and stroked my good arm reassuringly.

“I know it can be disconcerting. If you need someone to talk to, feel free to give me a call.” She handed me a business card with her number and name -- Daphne -- on it. “I can help you, Alex. Give me a call over the next day or so. And stay away from the man in black.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said, putting her card in my pocket. A car horn beeped twice and I turned to see my mom pulled up at the roadside, waving at me.

When I turned back, Daphne had vanished.

“This just gets weirder and fucking weirder,” I said to myself, heading to the car where my porn star mom was ready to take me home.

CHAPTER FOUR: ALEX TAKES A SHOWER WITH HIS MOM AND SISTER

I was sat in my car again, stuck in traffic, desperate to get to my audition. Seeing a different route, I swung across the empty oncoming lanes and stalled. As I struggled to get the car started, a truck appeared heading straight for me, blaring its horn. I turned the key and pumped the gas pedal but nothing happened. The truck bore down, its huge grill filling my sight - -

I jolted awake from the dream, for a moment wondering where the hell I was. I knew it was less of a dream and more of a memory -- the crash had happened, leaving me in a coma with a broken right arm and severe bruising over my legs and torso. Thing is, when the crash had happened, I was a struggling actor still living with my grossly overweight mother and sister who ridiculed me every chance they got. My agent was next to useless and my love life was non-existent, not helped by my small penis and inability to last more than a couple of minutes when I did get to bed a woman.

That was the Old World, though, as I’d started thinking of it. Because the world I’d emerged into from the coma, the New World, was a whole different ball game. Here I was a porn star with a huge cock; my mother and sister were also porn stars, both of them with huge tits, and they both loved me. They both also wanted to have sex with me; here incest was legal as long as everyone was at least eighteen and consenting but, for some strange reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it with them.

I looked round myself, realising I was sat on the sofa in my suite of rooms. That’s right -- suite of rooms. The tiny house I’d shared with my mother and sister in the Old World was now a mansion paid for by our porn star money. I’d returned from a meeting with my agent, Darla, who’d also turned out to be a sometime porn actress that me -- and my mom -- had fucked on screen more than once, not that I remembered it. My life right now was a weird mixture of the Old and New. Anyway, after getting home, I’d fallen asleep on my sofa and dreamed about my accident, woken up, and here I was.

“Got some soup for you, big brother,” my sister Chelsea said as she walked into the room carrying a tray which, sure enough, held a bowl of soup and a spoon.

Have to admit, though, my attention was less on the food and more on what she was wearing. Her big hair had been pulled back and tied into two bunches on top of her head. A tiny, pink, low-cut and cropped T-shirt left her taut belly bare and, I imagined, if she moved her hands over her head, the bottom of the shirt would slip up and over her huge tits which were clearly not held in place with a bra. The shortest shorts I think I’d ever seen tried to cover her round ass but left a lot of her butt cheeks free, a sight I got when she bent over to put the tray on the table in front of the sofa.

“You need to keep your strength up,” Chelsea said, holding the bowl and spoon as she knelt beside me, letting me put my left arm around her shoulders so she could get really close. Her smooth belly touched my side, her huge tits squashed against my upper torso, as she spooned some soup from the bowl and held it up to my mouth.

“I think I can manage to eat on my own, Chels,” I said with a smile.

“Maybe you can,” she said, paying no attention to me and feeding me the soup. “But I like to help you, big brother.” I took two or three spoonfuls of chicken soup like this, conscious all the while of her big tits pushed against me, her deep cleavage on display every time I dipped my head to take some food. Not surprisingly, I felt my cock lengthen and thicken in my shorts and, due to my size, there was no way Chelsea didn’t notice it, either. Not that she took offence.

“Am I distracting you, Alex?” she asked, pointedly looking at the long lump that ran down the inside of my thigh.

“You know you are,” I said, unable to be angry at all.

“Mind if I have some?” She held up a spoonful of soup to her own mouth, sucking it in before letting it dribble from the corner of her mouth, the pale fluid pouring over her chin to fall on to her huge tits, running into her cleavage. “Oops,” she said, using a finger to scoop it up, licking it clean as she stared at me.

“God damn it, Chelsea,” I said, part exasperated, part turned on. “I wish you’d stop teasing me.”

“Do you? Really?” She ran her hand over my thigh until it encountered the obvious lump of my cock, her fingers sliding up and down its length. “Looks like one part of you disagrees, at least.”

“I can’t help that. Any man would have the same reaction to you dressed like that and sat so close.”

“Is that what gets you hard, big brother? Just my clothes and sitting next to you?” She put a finger into the already low cut neck of her T-shirt and pulled it down, revealing her deep cleavage and the inner slopes of her tanned melons. “Not my big tits as well?”

“Jesus, Chelsea,” I whispered, swallowing hard as I looked down at my sister’s huge fucking tits. Despite all my protests, all my claims of not being able or wanting to commit incest, I couldn’t take my eyes of her perfect, round melons. Just that morning she’d helped me get dressed and accidentally on purpose ended up with my half hard dick between her tits. I remembered how they’d felt wrapped around my dick and swear my cock grew another inch in response.

“Mmmm, you do like my big tits, don’t you?” Chelsea asked me. She put the soup bowl and spoon down and now ran both her hands along my shorts, folding the material close around the length of my cock. “Such a big dick,” she whispered. “You know what my favourite porno is at the moment?” she asked me.

I shook my head. Part of me wanted to ask her to stop this; a large part of me didn’t.

“It’s your scene in The Best Little Whorehouse in Arkansas. You remember?” Again, I shook my head. “It’s the scene where you get to fuck Dolly Partridge because you’re threatening to close her down and she doesn’t want you to.” Chelsea ran her hands along my cock, squeezing it gently. “She goes down on you, then you fuck her, then you fuck her big -- fucking -- tits -- before you cum all over her face.”

Chelsea looked up at me, a little breathless as she relayed the scene to me.

“The director wanted you to fuck her ass as well, but she was scared to take your big dick up her butt and you’re such a nice guy you wouldn’t force her to do it.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” I said quietly. “All round nice guy,” I said. Back in the Old World I’d never even had a finger inside a girl’s ass -- despite nervously trying once or twice -- and yet here I was, apparently having refused to butt fuck a girl because I’m such a good guy.

“I’d let you,” Chelsea said quietly. “I’d love to take this up my ass,” she said, still running her hands up and down my now painfully hard cock.

We stared at each other, neither one knowing what to do or say.

“Ahem!” our mother said as she walked into the room. “I sent you up here to feed your brother, Chelsea, not to seduce him.” She stood in front of us wearing an old, long T-shirt that was almost transparent, allowing us to see the tiny bikini she wore beneath it, her huge tits covered by basically two triangles of cloth and some string. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail but for all that, my eye was caught by what she was carrying in one hand -- a tube of Saran Wrap and a roll of duct tape.

“You need a shower, Alex,” our mother said, taking my good hand from around Chelsea’s shoulders and pulling me upright, Chelsea pushing me from behind. Together they walked me into my bathroom -- big, sunken tub on one side, large walk-in shower cubicle on the other, toilet in a separate little room.

Mom led me into the middle of the room and had me lift my plaster covered right arm up and out before she started wrapping it in the clear film.

“Can’t have it getting wet while you shower, can we?” she asked. Once covered, she took the duct tape and sealed up the top edge to prevent any water getting under it. “There, all done. Chelsea? Start the shower, sweetheart,” she said.

“Thanks, mom,” I said, still conscious of my very hard -- and uncomfortable as it was still pointing down my leg -- dick. “I can take it from here, I think.”

“Oh no, sweetie,” mom said. “Doctor’s orders -- we’re to help you with dressing and bathing, remember? But to spare your blushes,” she grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head in one move, “we’re going to wear our bikinis while we wash you.”

My mother’s bikini, as I mentioned, was tiny -- a little dark blue number that covered her nipples and her pussy and not much else. As she took me by my good hand and led me to the shower, I watched Chelsea take off her shorts revealing an equally small pair of bikini bottoms. She took hold of her cropped shirt and started to lift it up over her head as mom had done.

“Oh no,” she said without any real regret. She was half-way done and showing an expanse of underboob that was more than most women I’d known in the Old World had in total. “I forgot my bikini top,” she finished, whipping her shirt off, her massive, tanned tits revealed to me and mom.

“Oh Chelsea, shame on you,” mom said, half-frowning, half-smiling. She turned to me. “Well, you can’t have a shower while you’re dressed,” she said.

The pair of them carefully pulled my T-shirt off, making sure not to knock my arm, their hands running over my defined abs and pecs. They then knelt down on either side of me and together, as I looked down and watched, undid my shorts and slowly pulled them down. Inch by inch, they revealed my swollen cock until the material cleared the head, letting it bounce up and free, pointing straight ahead.

“Did mean old Chelsea tease you, sweetheart?” mom asked me, licking her lips as she looked at my cock.

“I didn’t mean to,” Chelsea lied with a smile.

They knelt there for a second or two, both of them just looking at my dick before I cleared my throat to get their attention.

“Ummm -- the shower?” I said, more to break the moment than anything.

They stood and as I tried not to stare too openly at Chelsea’s fantastic tits, I let mom lead me into the cubicle and under the warm spray of the water. It felt good to be washed again, the first shower I’d taken since waking up from the coma. It felt even better when first my mom and then my sister followed me into the cubicle. The thing was large, like I said, but it wasn’t designed for three people and I had to stop myself from moaning as first mom then Chelsea squashed up against me, their huge tits -- in a bikini in mom’s case, naked in Chelsea’s -- pressing against my skin.

“Pass the shower gel,” mom said to Chelsea who reached out -- running her tits against my arm as she did -- and passed the bottle of gel to our mom who was on the other side of me. In seconds the warm water that splashed and ran down our bodies was joined by the fresh, lemon scent of shower gel foam that mom rubbed all over my chest and shoulders, Chelsea quickly joining in, doing my neck and back.

The foam and bubbles made it easier for them both to rub against me effortlessly as I stood there, my cock still pointing forwards, one hand on the shower wall in front of me to brace myself, the other held to one side. Chelsea took my good hand and covered it in suds, holding it up against herself, her huge tits sliding either side of it.

“Got to get you nice and clean, big brother,” she said over the noise of the spray.

“I hope you don’t mind, son,” my mom said from my other side, “but this just keeps slipping and getting in the way.” I turned to look as she took her bikini top off, her enormous tits, covered in soap and water, naked and pressed up against me as she washed my chest.

I couldn’t help but stare at my mom’s huge tits as they ballooned out to either side as she pushed close to me, water trickling off their slopes. My cock gave a lurch at the sight and rose upward, something which both women noticed.

“We’ve got to clean everywhere, you know,” Chelsea said, winking at me.

“Your sister’s right, Alex,” our mom said. “This is just us following Doctor’s orders. Nothing else.”

Together, as if they’d planned it, their hands slid over my chest, down my stomach to the base of my hard on. Both of them watched me as they slowly, oh so slowly, used one hand each to encircle the root of my cock.

I knew I should stop them -- this was my mother and sister, New World or not -- but I just let out a sigh and closed my eyes, not making a move.

Fingers entwined with each other, my mom and sister slowly ran their hands up my big dick, the water and shower gel making it easy for them. As they reached the big, flared knob, they slid their fingers around and across the head, rubbing it softly before travelling back down the length of my cock. Back up to the top they went together, in no rush at all, taking their time to enjoy getting their hands on my dick at last.

I opened my eyes to find they’d leaned forward and, as they continued to slowly stroke my dick, they kissed beneath the spray of water, tongues gently probing each other’s mouths. Their hands started to speed up a little, their grip tightening as they made out together while jerking me off, still under the pretence of washing me.

“God, mom,” Chelsea muttered, “he’s so big.”

“I know, baby,” mom replied. “But we’re just washing him, remember?” She looked up at me, blinking at the water that splashed on her face. “We can’t make him cum because that would be wrong,” she said before turning back to Chelsea and kissing her deeply.

I groaned in frustration at the thought of not being allowed to cum. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d shot my load -- certainly not since waking up from the coma despite all the horny women that seemed to inhabit this world. Now here I was, two busty pornstars slowly jerking me off and they weren’t going to let me cum?

“Sorry big bro,” Chelsea said looking up at me. “Mom’s right. We’re just washing you. You wouldn’t want us to do anything sexy with you. Would you?”

As she asked, she gripped my cock harder, her and mom speeding up a little, still stroking my cock from the base to the tip on every move.

“Oh God,” I groaned, putting my hand against the shower wall again, steadying myself as the pair of them slid their fists up and down my dick.

“Would you like to cum, sweetheart?” mom said. “I know this might feel odd as we’re just washing you,”

“Washing your big fucking cock,” Chelsea interrupted.

“But if you want us to stop, of course we will,” mom continued, looking up at me. “All you have to do is tell us to stop. Tell us to stop -- or tell us to make you cum.”

I groaned again -- not the most eloquent of responses, I know but my mind was in a whirl, here. Even before I’d woken up from the coma I’d apparently always resisted the advances of my mom and sister and yet now, after just a couple of days, I was being jerked off by both of them at the same time.

“What do you want us to do, sweetheart?” mom asked me.

I hesitated for just a second, imagining a cartoon angel version of myself on one shoulder piously protesting to get them to stop, while on the other shoulder, a devilish version just stood there, tongue lolling as it jerked itself off.

“Oh God,” I said again. “Make me cum. Please.”

They both grinned up at me before holding my dick under the water, washing off the suds and soap. Once clean, they bent at the waist and together, one either side, slowly kissed the head of my cock. I gasped as I felt their tongues wrap and play around my knob, their hands still jerking me off. If I had died at that point, I would have died happy. Thankfully I didn’t as things got better when my mom eased my thick cock head between her lips and into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down on it for a moment before letting Chelsea have a go.

I watched them taking turns blowing me and, at that moment, wondered why the fuck I’d resisted this.

Chelsea reached up with one hand and turned the shower off, the only noise in the cubicle now my heavy breathing and the slick, sloppy sounds of my mom sucking my cock.

“You going to cum soon, baby?” my mom asked as Chelsea took her place, sucking on my big dick. “You going to cum all over us?”

“Do it, Alex,” Chelsea said, the pair of them still jerking on my dick. “I want to feel your cum on my face and tits.”

They obviously felt me tense up at that thought as they managed to squeeze together in front of me in the cubicle, both of them holding their tits up, mom using one arm under both of her huge jugs, the other hand still jerking me off.

“Do it, Alex,” mom said. “Cum all over us.”

I gasped as my dick swelled even more and -- finally -- spat out a huge wad of jism which ran in an unbroken, thick line from my mom’s forehead, over her eye and cheek to hang off her jaw line before pooling slightly on one of her tits. My dick bucked and throbbed and shot out more jizz, adding a heavy coating of spunk over my mom’s face and tits, then another, and another. Laughing in surprise, mom pointed my cock at my sister, aiming my continuing blasts -- each one as full and heavy as the first -- at Chelsea’s face and tits.

“Yeah, do it -- cover us in cum!” Chelsea cried, sticking her tongue out and eagerly sucking in my creamy load, mom deliberately aiming a couple of blasts at her open mouth before turning it back to herself. She opened her own mouth and leaned forward, taking my next few shots straight down her throat.

Eventually, after what seemed like an age, I stopped cumming. My mother and sister still knelt in front of me, covered in my thick cum. Cords of jizz lay crisscrossed over their faces and tits, their huge mounds looking like they’d been glazed there was so much spunk on them; a large pool of jism nestled between my mom’s huge tits as she held them up.

“Do you -- do you need the -- shower turned on?” I gasped at them.

“No need,” mom said, smiling as Chelsea leaned in and started to lick and suck the cum from our mother’s face, mom turning and doing the same for her, the pair of them kissing and swapping my cum between them. Once their faces were relatively clean, they turned their attention to each other’s cum-covered tits.

As I watched them eat my cum from their tits, I felt my cock lurch and start to harden again but found myself thinking this was wrong.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “What have I done?”

CHAPTER FIVE: ALEX LEARNS ABOUT THE NEW WORLD... AND ITS DOCTORS!

I was awake early the next morning, awake and out of the house without my mother or sister spotting me. I couldn’t face them after yesterday when I’d let them jack me off under the pretence of showering me because of my broken arm. While they’d been more than up for it, I felt guilty for asking them to make me cum and as much as I enjoyed the sight of them sucking me off together before taking a huge facial from me, I was still left thinking it was wrong.

I’m sure anyone looking at this from the outside would be thinking “You’re an asshole. Your mother and sister and smoking hot, big titted pornstars who want you to fuck them -- and you still think that’s wrong. Just fuck them, already.”

I’m sure those people would love to put themselves in my shoes but I’m the one stuck here in the New World, trying to work out what the fuck has happened to me. One minute I’m a struggling, small dicked actor with an overbearing -- and overweight -- mother and sister, the next I’m waking up from a coma to find myself a huge cocked pornstar myself with, like the naysayers said, a mother and sister who are also in the porn business and who can’t wait for me to bang them.

As far as working out what’s going on, my best bet was Daphne, a mysterious girl I’d met the other day and who obviously knew more about this weird fucking world than I did. So, like I said, I sneaked out of our mansion -- yes, we live in a mansion -- walked down the drive, hooked out the card she’d given me and dialled her number.

“Hi Daphne? It’s Alex -- Alex Taylor. You gave me your card the other day.”

“Alex Taylor the confused young man, not Alex Hazard the pornstar?” she asked with a throaty laugh. Alex Hazard, I’d discovered, was my pornstar stage name. “Let me guess -- some weird shit’s happened and you want to talk?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” I said.

“Okay, that’s what I’m here for. Get a cab and head for Gold’s Coffee House on Savannah Drive. I’ll meet you there in half an hour or so.”

And with that, she was gone. I used the phone’s browser to find a cab company and, twenty minutes later, I was sat outside Gold’s Coffee House in the early morning sunshine with the rest of the breakfast crowd, sipping a great mug of coffee.

It was quite relaxing to sit and watch this strange New World go by as it looked so normal on the face of it -- men and women wandered past on their way to work, chatting with each other or on their own, some of them making phone calls or staring at their phones reading emails or whatever. It really could have passed for the Old World, the place I still remembered -- at least until you started looking a little closer.

Most of the guys were good looking hunks whether they were in business suits or, like me, in shorts and a baggy T-shirt. All the cars were top of the range sports and saloons with not a dent, a scratch or a busted light to be seen. There was no litter on the streets anywhere, no empty coffee cups or discarded newspapers. The sun was shining in the perfect blue sky even this early in the day but the temperature was just right.

And the women -- Jesus, the women.

Every one of them -- from the teenager serving me coffee behind the counter to the police woman on the traffic island directing cars -- from the business women walking up and down the street on their way to work to the cleaning lady just finishing her shift in the store across the road -- every one of them could have walked off a porn set. They were all stunningly good looking, blessed with model class looks atop killer bodies where even the most restrictive clothing couldn’t hide the huge tits that nature had blessed them with.

I had to make a concerted effort not to look at them too much for fear of my monster cock tenting my shorts and punching through the material.

“Good morning, Alex,” Daphne said as she arrived at my table, making me jump in surprise. “Taking in the scenery?”

She sat at the table and ordered a coffee when the gorgeous, busty waitress appeared to take her order.

“I have to admit the scenery’s fantastic,” I said, making no effort to hide the fact I was staring at her tits as they thrust against her tight T-shirt. Daphne, like every other woman around here, looked like a hugely titted pornstar -- a little chunkier around the hips if I was honest, but still gorgeous.

The waitress returned with Daphne’s coffee and left us to talk.

“Well don’t get excited,” Daphne said. “Unlike most girls you’ll meet round here, I’m not going to have sex with you at the drop of a hat, no matter how big that cock of yours is.”

“As disappointing as that is, I’m not surprised. I figured you were different when you knew I wasn’t from around here.” I sipped at my coffee. “How did you know that, anyway?”

Daphne smiled and pushed her sun glasses up on to her head, exposing her gorgeous blue eyes which, with her blonde hair, gave her the look of a Nordic goddess.

“Before we get into that, a couple of questions for you. Tell me about yourself, your old self. What were you doing in your old life? What happened to you before you woke up here?”

I told her briefly of my past, the struggling actor, my home life, the car accident and then waking from my coma in the hospital to find my new situation. Before I knew it, I was telling her of my pornstar mom and sister, their desire to fuck me and my reluctance to play along -- at least up until the incident in the shower the evening before.

“That’s a story I’ve heard more than once, at least in general terms,” Daphne said. “Do you remember anything bad happening to one of the American Presidents in the 60’s?” she asked out of the blue.

“Ummm, yeah -- Kennedy was assassinated in ‘63, I think. Or was it ’62? No, ’63, I’m sure.”

“The world I come from? It was Nixon who was shot in ’64.”

“The world you come from?” I asked, a little surprised.

“Well, yeah -- you didn’t think we were all from the same timeline, did you?”

“I hadn’t given it much thought, if I’m honest,” I said.

“Okay,” Daphne said, sipping at her coffee. “Time to give you some information on this place. As far as we can work out -- and I’ll get to who ‘we’ are in a moment -- this place, this world is some sort of heaven. A heaven created by a breast-obsessed teenager most likely, but a heaven nonetheless. Just about everyone here, we think, died in one way or another and ended up here, living out their new lives as though they’re the only ones they’ve ever had.”

“Wait a second,” I interrupted. “You mean I’m dead?”

“No, I don’t,” Daphne said, obviously not pleased that I stopped her. “You, and me for that matter, and a handful of other people over time have woken up here knowing something’s not right. You remember your previous life for one thing. That means, as far as we can tell, you’re not dead in your old life -- in all likelihood you’re in a coma.”

“Jesus,” I whispered. “So I could get back? Wake up in the Old World?”

“We think so,” she said, “though I have to admit it’s not certain.”

“You keep saying ‘we’ -- who are you?”

“We’re people like you, Alex, people who remember their old lives. There aren’t many of us -- maybe two dozen -- but we try and find and help new arrivals like us. Like you.”

“How do you find us?” I asked, waving my hand around at the dozens of people in sight and the hundreds if not thousands beyond in the city. “It must be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“We check the Index,” she said with a smile. “We have a handwritten list of all major business men and women, actors and actresses, politicians, royalty and even, as in your case, pornstars. We compare that list with our computerised one and look for differences.”

“Sorry, Daphne, I don’t understand.”

“Let’s take your example. If we find a fan of porn in this city -- and trust me, there’s thousands of them -- and ask them about you, your mom and your sister, they’ll be able to tell us when you all started your careers, the movies you’ve been in, who you’ve fucked and who you haven’t. When you arrived here, the world rearranged itself to take account of your arrival. It was as if you’ve always been here.

“Our handwritten list, though, doesn’t update. Whoever or whatever’s in charge of this place made sure that people’s memories, computers, histories and all the rest of that shit was updated when you, or I or anyone else arrives -- but the old fashioned pen and ink systems got missed out. When a famous pornstar like you appears on our computer list but not the handwritten one, we know we have a new arrival and come say hello.

“Most of them don’t know any different -- they’re fully engaged with this world and, as far as they’re concerned, they’ve always been here. Every now and then we find someone, like you, who remembers the old life they had.”

I frowned at her, trying to get it all straight in my head. “So what happens next?”

Before she could answer, the young, busty waitress returned and asked if we wanted more coffee. I declined but Daphne had a refill. Once she’d left us -- with me watching her pert little ass wiggle beneath the tight, short skirt of her uniform, Daphne continued.

“From experience, you have three options. You can embrace your new life, forget me, forget the old life and just become Alex Hazard, pornstar extraordinaire.”

“That is sort of tempting,” I said with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Alternatively you could leave that life behind but still stay here as one of us, helping new arrivals who still remember the old world. That would mean leaving this city and your mother and sister behind.”

“And the third option?” I asked, not being entirely impressed by that one.

“You try and return to your old life.”

“How do I do that?” I asked.

Daphne drank some of her coffee. “You die in this world.” I blinked in surprise. “As far as we know, that should get you back to the world you left.”

“As far as you know?”

“We can’t know for certain, of course, but the few who’ve done it have never been seen again and, more importantly, disappear from our computerised lists as if they’ve never existed here. All the evidence points to them getting back to their own worlds.”

We looked at each other, Daphne calmly drinking her coffee, me wondering if I was believing all this. Of course, none of what she’d said was any crazier than waking up in a world where I was a big dicked pornstar, my mother and sister had huge tits and incest was legal.

“So who’s the skinny guy in black?” I asked, referring to the weird guy who’d approached me twice before, telling me I didn’t belong.

“We think he’s some sort of defence mechanism for this world. Not police as such, but a way of the world being aware that you don’t belong and letting you know it. As time goes on and you don’t make a decision one way or the other, you’ll find he appears more and more often and becomes a lot more threatening. We think he’s forced more than one new arrival to decide whether they want to stay or not.”

I thought for a minute or two. “How come he’s not following you around?”

“I’m from a different city, originally. I moved here to help the new arrivals. For some reason, the man in black either doesn’t notice you once you move or doesn’t care.”

“So I either become Alex Hazard, pornstar -- move out of here and help the new guys -- or risk committing suicide in the hopes it’ll take me back to my Old World.”

“That’s it,” Daphne said.

“How long do I have to make up my mind?”

She shrugged, her huge tits jiggling beneath her tight T-shirt. “Kinda hard to say -- time works differently here. For example, your broken arm -- how long before that cast comes off?”

“Almost a week,” I said.

We were interrupted by my phone ringing. I hooked it out of my shorts and looked at the screen to find an unknown number calling.

“Hello?” I answered, holding my hand up to apologise to Daphne.

“Ah Mr Taylor,” a man’s voice said. “So glad to catch you, it’s Dr Richards. We’ve had an opening at the hospital come up so if you’re free this morning, we could get that cast off your arm today.”

I stared at Daphne who smirked as if she knew what was going on. “Sure, that’s fine,” I said.

“Good, good, just come to reception and ask for myself and we’ll get that taken care of. See you later.”

As I ended the phone call, I explained to Daphne who had called me and why. She shrugged.

“Honestly, that sort of thing happens all the time round here, coincidences are a way of life.” She drained her coffee. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift to the hospital. On the way you can start thinking about what you’re going to do. Like I said, the man in black won’t give you too long to decide.”

† † † † †

With all the talk of decisions and the ramifications of them, the drive to the hospital wasn’t exactly light-hearted. Daphne dropped me off and said she’d be in touch -- I did attempt to make a date with her but she proved to be as uninterested in hooking up as my mother and sister were, if you see what I mean.

I walked into the reception of the large hospital building and found myself -- as far as I could see -- on the set of a porno version of General Hospital or Casualty or some other medical based soap opera. Just like the people outside the coffee shop, everyone wandering around -- doctors, nurses, patients, orderlies -- were drop dead gorgeous or handsome and built for one thing.

“Hi there,” I said to the pretty, busty receptionist whose blouse was open showing her impressive cleavage. “Can you tell Dr Richards I’m here to get my cast removed?” I asked, indicating my arm.

“Mr Taylor, correct?” she asked, picking up a file from beside her and looking at a post-it note stuck to the front. “Dr Richards left a message to say he was busy and to pass you over to one of his colleagues, a Dr Barnet, if that’s okay?”

“Sure, no problem,” I said. “Where do I find him?”

The receptionist smiled. “Give me a moment,” she said, then bent over to a small microphone -- her blouse opening up even further, her tits almost spilling out -- and said “Paging Dr Barnet, Dr Barnet to reception, please.”

I thanked her and waited in reception for a minute or two before the double doors that lead to the wards opened and someone said “Mr Taylor? I’m Dr Barnet.”

After everything I’d experienced and the conversation I’d just had with Daphne, I know I shouldn’t have been surprised to discover Dr Barnet was a spectacle-wearing, gorgeous, blonde haired, tiny waisted, big titted dream of a woman. Her short skirt showed the hint of stocking tops, her blouse revealed the start of a deep cleavage, and her white lab coat could never have been buttoned up thanks to her huge tits.

She smiled and waved her hand at me to break my very obvious dumb-founded stare, beckoning as I finally snapped out of it.

“Follow me, Mr Taylor, and we’ll get rid of that cast for you,” she said before turning to the receptionist and taking my file that she held out for her. “Could you page Nurse Meredith for me and send her to room 7?” she asked.

I walked after the doctor as she left reception and took me to room 7, a large examining room off the main corridor. It had a desk and chair and a hospital bed off to one side, along with a trolley with assorted instruments laid out on it.

“Sit on the bed for me, would you Mr Taylor?” the doctor asked, flipping through my file for a moment before putting it on the desk. “Looks like you had a nasty accident,” she said. “You got off lightly if all you broke was your arm.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I said a little stupidly, sneaking glances at her expanse of cleavage when I could.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break anything else, what with your career,” Dr Barnet said with a smile, looking at my crotch. “No need to be coy, Mr Taylor,” she said as I stared blankly at her. “I knew all about our famous patient when you were in last week.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” she said, moving closer, stepping between my legs and running her fingers lightly along the bulge of my cock. “I made a point of calling into your room and -- inspecting you while you slept.” She looked at me, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “I hope you don’t mind?”

I gulped nervously. “No,” I squeaked. “I don’t mind,” I said, feeling my cock harden and lurch beneath her light touch, the thick length running down my leg beneath my shorts. I sneaked a glance at her big tits that seemed about ready to spill from her blouse.

“You like big boobs, don’t you Alex?” she asked me, using her free hand to undo a button on her blouse, her huge tits pushing the sides apart even further, the white lace of her bra now visible. “Do you like mine?”

I nodded dumbly, groaning as she moved her hand to the bottom of my shorts and slid it up, her fingers meeting the spongy, firm head of my cock.

“Dr Barnet?” said a female voice from the door. We both turned to see a dark-haired nurse, as stacked as the doctor, smiling at us. The uniform she wore was not the sort of thing you’d expect to see in a hospital -- except maybe in this crazy world. A sleeveless, white one piece that barely reached the tops of her stockings, it had two straps at the front that tied behind her neck and which left the inner slopes of her big jugs exposed. Elbow length gloves and a tiny hat completed the ridiculous -- but ridiculously hot -- outfit. She tottered over to us on her high heels and watched as the doctor continued playing with my knob head under my shorts.

“Nurse Meredith, good of you to join us,” Dr Barnet said. She leaned closer and they kissed in front of me, their lips opening, their tongues diving into each other’s mouths. My cock pulsed at the sight and a thick line of pre-cum spurted over the doctor’s fingers which she smeared over my knob, gripping my prick and sliding it in and out of her fist. They eventually stopped kissing and looked at me, their eyes shining, each other’s spit glistening on their lips.

“Nurse, would you be kind enough to start removing Mr Taylor’s cast while I -- distract him?” the doctor said, looking at me the whole time, her fist running up and down the first few inches of my cock, lubricated by my pre-cum.

The nurse walked over to the table and returned with what looked like a motorised pizza cutter: a handle with a circular blade on one end which had a safety guard below it. She slid that guard between my arm and the cast, turning on the blade so it would cut through the plaster without cutting my skin. As it went, though, it pulled on the cast which in turn pulled the hairs out of my arm, making me wince.

“Is this okay, doctor?” the nurse asked, slowly moving the blade along the cast.

“That’s fine,” the doctor said, undoing my shorts and opening them wide. “But I can see I really need to distract our patient from the pain.” She let go of my knob and reached in with both hands, pulling my hard-on free of my shorts, holding it upright. “That’s a really big cock, Mr Taylor,” she said, running both hands up and down it.

“Jeez, I don’t think I’ve seen one that big before,” the nurse said, pausing in her work for a moment.

The doctor looked at me and grinned as she slowly, oh so slowly, bent at the waist, her huge tits almost spilling from her bra. She stuck out her tongue, still staring at me, and slowly licked around the flared knob of my big dick, lapping up the almost constant stream of clear pre-cum that dribbled from the slit. She enveloped the head in her lips and sucked my cock head into her mouth, bobbing up and down, taking more and more into her throat.

“Wow, that looks so hot,” the nurse said.

The doctor paused in her blow job for a second and said “Please continue with removing the patient’s cast, nurse,” before sucking my cock again.

“Sorry, doctor,” the nurse said, the cutter starting up again.

While I doubt this was the prescribed method of pain distraction, I can tell you it damn well worked! I sat there as the gorgeous, smoking hot Dr Barnet sucked on my cock, taking it as far into her mouth as she could, making herself gag and cough over and over and couldn’t think of anything else. She hummed and purred as she gobbled on my fuck meat, quickly losing the tiny amount of pretence that this was a medical procedure, her hand -- now lubed with her own spit that ran down my shaft -- racing up and down what she couldn’t fit in her mouth.

“So big,” she moaned, taking it out and rubbing it over her face, looking up at me as she did. “So fucking big.”

She plunged her mouth back over my prick, gagging repeatedly as she crammed it down her throat, spit running down my cock and over her hand.

“Fuck my tits,” she gasped desperately. “Please -- fuck my big tits,”

She pulled her blouse apart and tore open the cups of her bra, freeing her enormous jugs. Without giving me a moment to consider the request -- not that I needed it -- she squatted slightly, took her massive mounds in both hands and wrapped them around my stiff as steel hard-on. Breathing heavily, she began moving her tits along my cock, the spit and pre-cum easing the passage in her deep cleavage, my knob head poking out from between her tits for a second before disappearing again as she made me fuck her tits. She bent her head and licked at the head of my cock as it played hide and seek between her fun bags, dribbling more spit all over it.

“Ahhhh, god,” I gasped, watching all the while. Back in the Old World, I’d dreamt of doing this countless times and here I was, living the dream.

“Are you going to cum?” Dr Barnet asked, looking up at me, her tits still working up and down my cock.

“Yeah,” was all I could manage.

“Good -- cum over my tits,” she said. “Cum all over my big, fucking tits -- just like you do in your movies.”

How could I refuse? She kept me fucking her tits for as long as I could last, sliding her huge melons up and down, up and down my cock until I groaned as I felt my dick swell and my balls tighten. Whether it was the physical signs, the look on my face or my anguished cry of “Ack!” that tipped her off, she moved back and grabbed my prick just as it lurched and started to spew.

The good doctor pointed my cock at her enormous, round tits and directed blast after blast of thick jizz over herself, smiling and moaning as her huge jugs were covered in my seed. Lines of spunk crisscrossed each other over her creamy white tits as she cupped them with her free hand, the viscous fluid quickly pooling in her cleavage and sliding in streams over the curves of her tits.

“Fuck yes -- more -- give me more,” she panted and thankfully I was able to deliver as my prick continued shooting out more cum than I’d seen in a bukkake movie. Well, almost.

When my prick finally stopped spurting out huge lines of jism, Dr Barnet’s tits were almost covered in my seed -- barely a square inch of flesh was untouched by my load. I leaned back a little, catching my breath, and watched in delight as nurse Meredith knelt in front of the doctor and began sucking and slurping up my cum from her tits. While she swallowed the first mouthful, she quickly filled up and this time kissed the doctor, the pair of them sharing my spunk back and forth before the nurse returned to her tits and sucked up some more.

It took a moment to realise but if she was there -- I glanced at my arm and sure enough, the cast had been removed without me even noticing. I flexed my hand, grateful to have some movement back, placing one hand on each of the women’s head, making them kiss again, my cum sliding over their lips.

“I could get used to this,” I said to myself.

CHAPTER SIX: ALEX’S MOM AND SISTER PUT TEMPTATION BEFORE HIM

I sat at my desk, flipping through the small booklet that Darla, my agent, had given me the other day. It was basically a catalogue from Shoot magazine showing the girls that were available to work with me over the coming weeks.

When I say “girls” I mean gorgeous pornstars with huge, perfect tits -- and when I say “work with me” I mean star in porn films and get fucked by my huge dick.

No seriously -- since I woke up from my coma in this weird New World, I’ve discovered me, my mom and my sister are all pornstars, both of them have killer bodies with huge tits, and are desperate for me to fuck them. Weirder still, incest is legal -- as long as you’re over the age of consent and into it -- and there was a President Fitzgerald in the 60’s. Even fucking weirder is that there’s a loose-knit collection of people in a similar situation to me who remember the world they’ve come from and try and help newcomers decide what to do. Basically my options are to embrace my new pornstar life and forget about my old one, stay in this world but move away from my job and mom and sis, or return to the Old World by dying in this one.

You want any of that in more detail, go read the earlier chapters.

Like I said, I was sat flipping through the booklet, grinning to myself. This world was really similar to the Old World but it had a few differences -- my obvious employment and endowment aside for the moment. Those differences in some cases were subtle, often just a slightly different name, as I was discovering in the booklet.

Having been a fan of big tits in the Old World, I’d bought copies of the premier big boob mag, Score -- here in the New World, it was called Shoot. In its heyday of the mid-90’s, it featured silicone enhanced models like Tiffany Towers, Sarenna Lee and Wendy Whoppers, all models I’d fantasised about over the years. Those and others were in this booklet I held but that’s where those subtle differences came into play.

The faces and bodies were the same, but the names were different. The big haired blonde was Lisa Weapons -- the slightly thicker bodied, round faced brunette was Letha Lipps. The incredibly fit MILF with the hard body was Pandora Pumpkins -- the brunette with the knowing smile was Penelope Peaks. The gorgeous blonde Canadian was Tiffany Topps -- the fresh faced almost innocent looking blonde was Traci Towers. The athletic redhead with the beauty spot was Sana Lee -- and the queen of them all for me, the Marilyn Monroe of the big titted models of the 90’s, was Sarenna Fey.

All of them -- and others including Angelique Alps, Brittany Hills, Candy Gunns and Deena Derringer -- were willing to star in a porno with me, literally making my Old World dreams come true. I could get to fuck my fantasy girls -- not to mention my incredibly hot mother and sister -- and all I had to do was just embrace this life and forget the old one.

So why the fuck was I even hesitating about this?

“Hey big brother, what you doing?” Chelsea asked in a sing-song voice as she sashayed into my room. For once she was dressed relatively normally in jeans and a T-shirt -- I’d become used to her wearing outrageous porno outfits around the house lately -- but she still looked drop dead gorgeous and I couldn’t help notice the way her T-shirt was stretched over her big, round tits.

“Just checking out some prospective work,” I said, looking her up at down.

“Really? Looks like you’re checking me out,” she said stepping closer, pulling up the spare chair and sitting next to me at my desk. My instinct was to move away and grab some clothes -- I was only wearing a vest top and boxers -- but then I remembered the episode from the shower and figured she wasn’t going to complain about what I was wearing.

“No, no,” I said a little too quickly. “No -- it’s just this -- this brochure Darla gave me,” I explained.

She took it from me and flicked through the pages. “Mmmm, Shoot magazine,” she said, licking her lips as she looked at the models on the pages. “Did Darla mention me and mom are hoping to do some work for them in the next few days?”

“No, she didn’t,” I said. “You’ve definitely got the qualifications,” I said before thinking, glancing at her huge tits.

“Aren’t you getting bolder?” she said with a laugh, slapping me on the thigh as I blushed, leaving her hand there.

“So are you -- are you going to be -- ummm -- appearing -- together?” I asked nervously. Darla had shown me footage of Chelsea and our mom in a porno together so I knew they’d done it before.

“Not at first,” she said, handing the brochure back to me. “We’re doing a couple of solo shoots first, then they’re hoping to team us up with one or two of their regular girls.”

“Really? Who?” I asked maybe a little too eager to find out.

“I think they want to team me up with Tiffany Topps,” Chelsea said, smiling as I couldn’t help groaning in pleasure at the thought of my sister hooking up with one of my all-time favourite models. “And I think mom’s going to be getting it on with -- oh, what’s her name?” she said, tapping her fingers on my thigh. “Oh yeah -- Sarenna Fey.”

“Jesus,” I couldn’t help but moan. My mom. With Sarenna Fey. My absolute, all time, no question about it favourite big tit model. Together.

“Mmmm, I can tell you like that idea,” Chelsea said, sliding her hand over my rapidly hardening cock, the front of my boxers expanding. “You know we’re going to be using toys, too?” Chelsea continued. “It’s not just standing next to each other and pretending to lick each other’s boobs or whatever. Mom’s really looking forward to using a strap on with Sarenna.”

“Has -- has Sarenna Fey ever done -- hardcore?” I asked. I knew the Old World version had only done solo or girl/girl shoots and videos -- maybe the New World version was a bit more adventurous?

“No,” Chelsea said, dashing my hopes as she rubbed at my cock. “Although the word from Shoot magazine is that she’d be willing to break her hardcore cherry if -- “ She stopped, leaving the sentence hanging, still running her hand over my by now very hard, very big cock.

“If what?” I asked.

“If you’d be willing to fuck mom on screen with her at the same time.” Chelsea said, pulling my boxers down and freeing my hard-on, gripping it tightly as she slowly jerked me off.

“Oh fuck -- really?” I asked.

“Uh-huh,” Chelsea said, leaning down slowly. “She’s a real big fan of yours and mom’s,” she said, sticking her tongue out and rolling it round the top of my knob, lapping up the clear pre-cum that dribbled from the slit. “She’d love to get this big -- fucking -- cock of yours inside her, but the deal is, you gotta fuck mom, too.”

She took the first few inches of my cock into her mouth and sucked and licked at it gently, nursing on the flared head. Sister or not, she was damn good at that and I watched her bob up and down on my prick, her hand still sliding up and down the shaft.

“God, I want this inside me,” she breathed, looking up at me, her lips moving against the side of my cock. “I want you to fuck me, Alex,” Chelsea said. “Will you, big brother? Will you fuck me?”

I looked at her as she licked up and down the length of my cock, staring at me the whole time, and I so fucking desperately wanted to just say yes, of course I’ll fuck you. But something -- conscience? Guilt? Suspicion? -- just wouldn’t let me.

“I -- I can’t, Chels,” I gasped.

“But I can still do this, right?” she asked hopefully, sucking my cock between her lips again.

“Fuck yes,” I said, letting her take as much of my cock as she could.

And yeah, there was part of me saying “Sure, you’re okay with your sister blowing you, but you won’t fuck her? You fucking hypocrite,” but what can I say? It still didn’t seem right fucking her.

I groaned as she shoved as much of my dick into her mouth and down her throat as she could manage, her mouth as wide as possible, her tongue sticking out on the underside of my length. She coughed a little, sending thick streams of spit down my shaft which she used to lubricate it, still jerking me as she sucked on my cock.

“Will you -- hahhhhh -- will you cum for me, big brother?” she gasped, looking up at me, my slippery cock sliding over her face. “Will you give me a big, creamy load?”

“Yeah,” I sighed and then -- to my own surprise and before I could stop myself -- added “If you show me your tits.”

Chelsea didn’t even pause. She just knelt up, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and whipped it off over her head, her huge, round melons jiggling softly. She leaned in again grabbed my cock, quickly sandwiching it between her big tits, sliding them up and down my dick.

“Ohhhhh God, yeah,” I groaned, watching my sister tit-fuck me.

“Mmmmm, you like that, don’t you?” Chelsea asked. “You like the feel of your cock in my mouth -- and between my tits, don’t you?” She spat into her cleavage, added more lubrication to the mixture of spit and pre-cum that already lined the valley of her jugs. “Think how much nicer it would feel in my pussy,” she said.

“Chels -- Chels, I can’t,” I moaned.

“Mmmmm, your sister’s hot -- wet -- pussy wrapped around your cock,” she said, ignoring my half-hearted complaining, still moving her huge tits up and down my cock. “Think about that, Alex -- think about sliding this big dick of yours into my horny cunt -- think how good that would feel.”

“Oh Jesus -- Chelsea,” I managed to groan.

“Or maybe,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper, “maybe you’d like to stuff it up my ass?”

My eyes went wide and I swear to God I almost passed out at the thought of it.

“I know you would -- I know you love butt fucking girls, Alex,” Chelsea continued. “I bet you’d love to cram this big fucking tool of yours up my tight little asshole, wouldn’t you?”

“Ohhhh fuck,” was the most intelligent response I could come up with at that point. My conscience or whatever wouldn’t let me fuck her -- but would fucking her ass count? Could I get away with that?

“You know,” she whispered, running her huge tits up and down my cock. “I’d be happy to let you fuck mom before me -- let you fuck her tight pussy before mine -- if you promise me one thing.”

“What?” I gasped, my dick swelling between her mounds.

“If you promise to fuck my ass before hers,” my sister said, grinning up at me.

“Uhhhhhnnnn -- I promise,” I groaned. Honestly at that point I’d have promised her anything.

We both froze as we heard the main door downstairs open and then close, followed by our mother’s voice calling up the stairs.

“Alex? Chelsea? Are you here?”

Chelsea smiled, dipped her head and kissed my knob goodbye before pulling my boxers back up.

“Hi mom!” she called out. “We’re in Alex’s room.” She casually reached for her T-shirt and pulled it on, covering her huge tits back up just as our mother walked into the room.

“And what have you been up to?” she asked, sauntering over to where I sat and where Chelsea still knelt between my legs.

“I was just blowing him and letting him fuck my tits, mom,” Chelsea said brazenly.

“Mmmmm, but judging by that hard-on, you didn’t let him cum, did you?” my mom asked her, leaning over and reaching down to grasp my cock through my shorts. “Has your wicked little sister been teasing you, Alex?” she asked me, stroking my rock hard dick.

“Yeah, a little,” I said quietly, staring at my mom. She wore a skin tight skirt and a blue silk shirt which, as she was bent over, was straining desperately to contain her huge and obviously braless tits, the tits I’d last seen covered in my spunk.

“Well maybe later we can think of some way of making it up to you,” my mom said, gently squeezing my cock. “But for now,” she said, standing up, “I need you both to get dressed as I’m taking you out for lunch.”

“What?” I squeaked, my dick almost bursting a hole through my boxers. Sure I’d resisted their advances up till now but I didn’t expect to be left with a case of blue balls like this.

“Come on you,” my mom said, lifting Chelsea up on to her feet. “Let’s let Alex get dressed and then we’ll go get a bite to eat. I have some good news I want to share.”

I watched dumbfounded as mom and Chelsea left my room, arms round each other’s waists, leaving me all fired up with nowhere to go.

† † † † †

A half hour later we sat in a nice restaurant enjoying a good Italian light lunch. I was in slacks and a smart, short sleeved shirt, mom was in the same skirt and blue silk blouse, and Chelsea had changed into a tight, front zipped blouse and a mini-skirt that only just covered her butt cheeks. Sat at a window table, we could chat and watch the world in all its handsome men and gorgeous women glory go by.

“So what’s your news, mom?” Chelsea asked after we’d finished most of the meal.

“Well,” she started with a big smile. “It ties in with Alex here. I’ve spent the morning with Darla and a lovely young lady from the Shoot magazine group. They’re really keen to get Alex shooting with them, as you know, and we were working out some final details to entice him back in front of the camera.”

“Ah,” Chelsea said, looking a little shamefaced. “I might have let slip one or two things there, mom.”

Mom frowned at her, looking a little annoyed. “Really?” She turned to me. “Did she tell you about me doing a shoot with Sarenna Fey?”

“Yeah, she did,” I said, feeling sorry for Chelsea.

“And what about Sarenna wanting you to be the first guy she fucks on screen?”

I grinned a little. “Yeah, but she said she’d do it only if -- only if I fucked you as well.”

Mom said back in her chair, crossed her arms under her huge tits, and frowned at Chelsea.

“Looks like you’ve stolen all my thunder,” she said. After a second, though, she smiled. “Although there’s one bit you haven’t told Alex because I only arranged that this morning.” Mom leaned over to me, putting her hand on my thigh. “If you agree to a threesome with me and Sarenna,” she said, “she’s agreed to do anal.” My eyebrows shot up my forehead. “That’s right, baby -- she wants you to fuck her asshole -- right after you fuck mine.”

“Holy fuck,” I whispered. Back in the Old World, I’d seen a couple of videos of the real Sarenna taking a dildo in her butt and often imagined her doing that with a guy. Of course, I’d never imagined that -- alternate world or not -- I’d be offered the chance of being that guy.

“What do you say, honey?” mom asked me.

“I -- Jesus, I -- ummm,” and fell silent as I glanced out the window.

There was a man on the other side of the street watching me. He wore a long black coat and a wide-brimmed hat despite the summer sun. It was the man from outside the hospital, the man from outside Darla’s office, the one who had told me I didn’t belong here. He was, according to Daphne, going to force me into making a decision about whether I wanted to stay here or not.

“Can you -- can you give me a minute?” I asked them and then hurried out of the restaurant, beckoning the man over as I moved out of my mom and sister’s line of sight. He walked over and I couldn’t help but wince at his white, drawn face. He hadn’t looked well at our first meeting and now looked even worse: his cheeks were sunken, his skin pasty and blotchy, seeming to peel in place, and his eyes were jaundiced, surrounded by red, sore flesh.

“You don’t belong here,” he said, his voice cracked and rough.

“I know, I know. I spoke with -- with one of the errr -- the outsider people?” I said, hoping he knew who I meant.

“Don’t believe her,” he said. “She lies, she always lies.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I know what she told you, about this being another world, a limbo or something. It’s not true.” He coughed, a little blood spraying out of his mouth. “If you have sex with your mother or sister, this whole thing ends,” he said, coughing again.

I didn’t feel like saying I’d already been blown by both of them -- I figured if a blow job didn’t count as sexual relations for Bill Clinton, then it didn’t for me.

“Daphne said if I did that, I’d become part of this world. I’d become the pornstar everyone thinks I am.” I hoped I didn’t sound as desperate as I thought I did.

“That’s bullshit. You’re dying, Alex,” he said. “This whole thing,” he waved his arm around, “is nothing more than a dying man’s fucked up wish fulfilment dream.”

“What?”

“If you fuck your mother or your sister, that’s it, you die, end of story,” he said. “Your weird, Oedipal complex dream gets done and your body gives up.”

“I -- I don’t understand. Daphne said -- “

“She told you what you wanted to hear. I’m telling you what you need to hear.” He bent over and coughed again, spitting out more blood. “We’re both parts of you, you asshole,” he said, standing back up. “She’s the part you want to be true, the one who gives you licence to do whatever the fuck you want. I’m the part that knows you’re lying in a hospital bed after the car accident and you’re dying.”

I felt sick and staggered against the wall of the building next to me, my head spinning.

“You got one chance, Alex,” the man in black said. “You need to end this bullshit here and get back to the real world. The longer you leave it, the sooner you’re going to die in here.”

“How -- how do you know that?” I asked.

“All the women around here -- they been offering themselves to you? Your mom and sister been trying to get you to fuck them, yeah? Offering you more and more incentives? Upping the ante, putting more on the table?”

I thought about it and had to agree. Since I’d arrived, my mother and sister had been tempting me with more and more. Hell, not ten minutes ago, my mom had offered me the ass of my favourite big tit model!

“They want you to succumb, to fuck ‘em. Soon as you do, that’s it, you’re dead and this whole thing falls apart.”

“So -- so this isn’t an -- alternate world? I’m not a pornstar here?”

The man in black coughed again and again. “Of course not, you fuckwit. You’re just boring old Alex Taylor who got his car hit by a truck while sitting in it. This, this whole sick, sordid fantasy, is your brain trying to let you down easy. Me? I’m the one trying to save your ass.”

I stared at him, unsure whether to believe him or not. Daphne had told me if I fucked my mother I’d be part of this world, forget about the old one and live happily ever after. This guy was telling me if I fucked her, I’d die.

“Jesus,” I said. “That’s a hell of a choice to make.”

“Make it quick,” the man said, coughing again. “I don’t think I’ve got long left. And if I die, so do you.”

“What? How the hell does that work?”

“Like I said, I’m part of you. We’re one and the same person, you asshole. I’m the personification of all your injuries and illness, just like Daphne’s the image of your lusts and fantasies.”

“So how -- I mean, if I don’t fuck my mom -- what happens?”

“Kill yourself here,” he said. “Jump in front of a car, throw yourself off a building, cut your own fucking head off if you like. You do that, you’ll wake up in hospital.”

“That’s what Daphne said would happen,” I said.

“Not everything she said was bullshit. Even she knows there’s a way out for you.” He turned and walked off, coughing all the while. Just before he turned a corner, he looked back at me. “Make your mind up quick. You ain’t got long,” he said, and was gone.

I stood, thinking about what he’d said and how it was completely at odds with what Daphne had told me. Either I was in an alternate world and had the opportunity to become part of it and live out my admittedly smut-filled dreams -- or I was dying in a hospital and would end up dead here, too, unless I woke up in the Old World, the real world, by killing myself here.

“Baby, you okay?” my mom asked as she walked up to me, Chelsea just behind her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I did,” I said.

“Hmmm. Sounds like you need some rest and relaxation by the pool,” my mom said. “Chelsea, go bring the car round, darling. We’re going to take Alex home and sun ourselves by the pool. I could do with topping up my tan -- hopefully I’ll find someone to rub some sun cream on my back?”

Despite everything the man in black had just said, I couldn’t stop my dick from stiffening slightly at the thought of covering my mom in sun tan lotion.

“Maybe I’ll find someone to do my front, too?” she whispered, pressing her huge tits up against my arm. “Maybe they’ll cover my front in some cream of their own?”

I looked down at her spectacular cleavage and just had to grin.

“Lead on, mom,” I said. As we walked to the pick-up spot where Chelsea would be bringing the car, I glanced back at the corner where the man in black had vanished and wondered again what the hell was going on.

CHAPTER SEVEN: ALEX FINALLY MAKES A DECISION

So this was it -- today was the day it all ended, one way or the other.

Dramatic opening, eh?

I mentioned before time was kinda weird in this place -- it might have been the day after my trip to the restaurant and my meeting with the man in black, or maybe the day after that. Whichever it was, I knew today was the day I was booked to star in a porno movie with my mom and the gorgeous Shoot model, Sarenna Fey, both of whom had agreed to do anal with me.

My only problem was working out what happened when I finally got round to fucking my mother. The man in black had said as soon as I did that, this whole porno world basically disappeared because it was nothing more than a dying man’s fantasy, with me as the dying man. If I fucked my mom, I died.

Straightforward choice, yeah? It would have been had I not already met a woman called Daphne who claimed this New World was an alternate one from my own, one where I was a porn star -- and so were my mother and sister -- and that if I fucked my mother or my sister, I would forget all about my Old World and just become part of this one.

Of course, I didn’t know which of them was telling the truth. In a world where I was a porn star alongside my mother and incest was legal, I was due to finally get my cock inside her -- and I was either going to live happily ever after or die.

That, my friends, is the very definition of one fuck of a decision.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” my sister Chelsea squealed as she bounced into my room, clapping her hands in excitement. Bounced was right -- she, like my mom, sported a fantastic, huge pair of tits which I’d had my hands on and my dick between a couple of times now. It seems this world didn’t count blow jobs and tit-fucks as sex for some reason, not that I was complaining.

“I can’t believe it!” she continued, running over and hugging me, squashing those big tits of hers against me chest. “You’re finally gonna do it -- you’re finally gonna fuck mom!”

“I thought -- I thought you might be pissed,” I said, genuinely concerned. Back in the Old World, my sister had been a mean spirited bitch -- this version I really liked, even putting the sex aside, and I didn’t want to hurt her.

“God no!” Chelsea said, looking up at me. “After all, once you’ve fucked mom, you’re going to do me, too, aren’t you?” She paused for a second to two, looking a little worried. “You are, aren’t you?”

“How could I not?” I asked with a smile, my big dick stiffening slightly at the thought. She smiled as she reached down and cupped my length.

“Good. I can’t wait to get this inside me,” she said, running her hand along the outside of my shorts, stroking my cock.

“Well you have to wait a little longer,” our mother said from the doorway as she walked in. “Alex needs to keep his strength up for the shoot. He’s got to have enough in him for me and Sarenna.”

“You lucky bitch,” Chelsea said with a laugh as she kissed our mother in front of me, a deep, tonguing, passionate kiss that did nothing to make my burgeoning hard-on disappear. She turned back to me. “But you owe me, big brother. You promised to fuck my ass before mom’s and now that’s not going to happen -- you’re going to have hers first.”

Mom kissed her again, running her hands over her huge tits. “I promise to let him have you tonight, after we get home, baby,” she said. “I promise to let you have him all to yourself if you want. That okay?”

“Okay, mom,” Chelsea said, kissing her back.

“Hey, don’t I get a say in this?” I asked.

“No!” they both said together, laughing at me gently.

“Come on,” mom said. “We need to get going.”

† † † † †

Mom drove us to Shoot Magazine’s studios, a large office building near the city centre which made no secret of its contents -- large posters with the covers of recent editions were proudly displayed in its windows showing gorgeous, barely clothed, hugely titted models posing and smiling at the people who passed by. It was a far cry from the Old World where porn was barely tolerated even when it kept to the shadows.

After parking up we headed into the reception where we were greeted by a young, busty girl who looked as though she belonged on the pages of the magazine she worked for, rather than behind a desk. Once she had our names, she rang up for someone to come and get us and, in a few minutes, we were picked up by another, equally busty young woman and escorted to Studio A.

The set was simple to say the least -- a mocked up bedroom with a couple of false walls, a couple of cabinets, some plastic plants and, dominating the whole thing, a huge bed. A lighting technician, sound operator and two camera operators wandered around, making last minute checks, all under the watchful eye of the director. And every one of them was a gorgeous young woman with huge, round tits bouncing gently beneath their T-shirts as they walked around.

“Ah, here’s the other stars of today’s show,” the director said as she caught sight of us. She was a small, petite redhead -- well, petite apart from the huge pair of tits under her shirt -- who introduced herself as Rachel as she shook our hands. “I’m really looking forward to getting you guys on camera,” she said. “I’m a big fan of both of you and getting you and Sarenna doing hardcore together -- well, this might be the highlight of my career.”

“We’re looking forward to it as well,” my mom said. “Is Sarenna around?”

“Yeah, she’s in make-up -- let me take you through and introduce you.”

I followed Rachel and my mom off towards a door leading to another room, my heart in my mouth, my cock stiffening in my shorts. Back in the Old World, Sarenna Lee had been my all-time favourite big boob model despite, or perhaps because of her never doing boy-girl hardcore. Here, in this weird, fantasy fulfilling world, she was Sarenna Fey, a model for Shoot magazine who was willing to not only do hardcore with me but even anal.

The only condition was that I fuck my mom alongside her and that made me think of this fucked up decision I had to make. If the man in black was telling the truth, I might be about to commit suicide by incest.

The side room was quite spacious -- a make-up counter with a mirror on the wall, lights all around it, was on one side, a large sofa opposite it with a big window leading to a fire escape opposite the door we’d entered by. A girl had her back to us as she stood over the model in the seat in front of the mirror.

“Sarenna? Lisa and Alex Hazard are here,” Rachel said, introducing us using our porn names.

The make-up girl -- yet another busty model -- moved aside, allowing her client to stand up and come towards us. Sarenna Fey was absolutely fucking gorgeous. Long blonde hair, subtle make-up, bright red lips, beautiful blue-grey eyes, perfect white teeth in a big smile. She was the epitome of slim and stacked, her fantastic figure topped off with a pair of big, round tits, each as big as her head yet which managed to suit her frame perfectly. That she wore just stockings, suspenders, a G-string and a corset was just the icing on the cake.

“I’m so very pleased to meet you,” she said in a perfect, upper class English accent that caught me by surprise as I’d assumed she’d be American. She and mom happily hugged and kissed each other, lightly at first, even politely, before both of them opened their lips, tongues darting out and sliding across each other. “I’ve seen all your films,” Sarenna said to my mom. “I’m so happy you agreed to make one with me.”

“There’s no way I could have turned it down,” my mom said. She let her go and turned to me. “Can I introduce you to my son, Alex?”

“Mmmmm, please do,” Sarenna said in that English accent of hers as she turned to face me. She leaned in and kissed me, standing on her tip toes to do so as she was a bit shorter than me. Instinctively, I put my arms around her, pulling her closer, her huge tits squashing against me as I kissed her back, gently at first before we both got into it, our tongues dancing into each other’s mouths. I felt her hand slide down to my crotch and grab my already half hard cock through my shorts.

She pulled back, her cheeks flushed a little as she looked me in the eyes.

“Could I -- could I see it, Alex?” she asked, biting her bottom lip a little. “Please, Alex?”

I swear, right then she could have asked me to do anything and I would have. Almost forgetting my mom, Rachel and the make-up girl were all still in the room, I unbuttoned my shorts, pulled the zipper down and let them fall to the floor.

“Oh -- oh my,” Sarenna said. “I’ve seen it in your films, but -- it’s so much bigger in real life,” she said, unable to take her eyes off my half-hard cock that swung and bobbed in front of her. She reached out and took hold of it, wrapping her hand round its girth, feeling it pulse and harden. My favourite big bust model -- okay, the alternate world version of her -- had her hand on my cock, and I wondered if life could get better.

“Do you promise to be gentle with me, Alex, when you stuff this big thing up my arse?” she asked me, running her hand up and down my cock.

What do you know? Life could get better.

“Uh-huh,” was all I could manage.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” my mom said to Sarenna. “He’s a real big fan of yours.”

“He certainly is,” she said, looking down at my burgeoning dick.

“Okay, people,” Rachel said, clapping her hands and bringing us all back to the room. “Let’s save it for the cameras, huh?”

Sarenna winked at me. “I can’t wait,” she said.

“Alex, Lisa? Let’s get you changed and made up. We’ll be shooting Lisa and Sarenna’s scene first, then the three of you.”

After I pulled up my shorts, I hung around and watched the make-up girl finish with Sarenna while mom changed from her jeans and shirt into a similar outfit to Sarenna’s -- stockings, corset, suspenders and a G-string -- before the make-up girl called her over and did her job. When they were both ready, they stepped back into the studio and headed towards the bed while I stood on the sidelines, out of the camera’s line of sight.

Rachel had a quiet word with both of them before they sat on the edge of the bed as Rachel walked out of shot.

“Okay, quiet please,” Rachel called. “Lights and sound are on?”

“Check!” called the women technicians.

“Okay, cameras rolling?”

“Rolling!” the camerawomen said as they moved into position.

“Okay then, Sarenna and Lisa? Action when you’re ready.”

“Hello, Shoot fans,” Sarenna said straight at one of the cameras. “I have a wonderful treat for you, today. It’s my very great pleasure to introduce a lady who’s making her Shoot debut, though you probably know her from the many fantastic films she’s made over the years such as Raiders of the Lost Ass, It’s a Mom’s World, Keeping it in The Family and last year’s The Girl with The Pearl Necklace. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the perfect MILF who is definitely an M I’d love to F, international adult star, Lisa Hazard.”

Sarenna clapped and turned to my mom who beamed happily at the camera, waving for the viewers.

“Thank you, Sarenna,” she said. “May I say it’s an honour to be inducted into Shoot magazine by you, its premiere model. I’ve been wanting to work with you for quite some time.”

“Mmmm, likewise,” Sarenna said, leaning over and kissing her lightly. “And there’s someone else you’ve been wanting to work with for a while, isn’t there?”

“That’s right,” my mom said to the camera. “Shoot magazine hasn’t just brought me and Sarenna together, but today will mark the first on screen scene of me and my son, Alex Hazard. But that’s not the only first, is it Sarenna?”

“No it isn’t. I know a lot of you have been waiting for this, so I’m pleased to say it’s finally going to happen. I will be doing my first boy-girl scene with Alex Hazard and, if that wasn’t enough, it’s going to be a threesome with Lisa as well.”

My mom leaned in closer to the camera. “And there’s one more surprise, one more first.” Beside her, Sarenna stood, turned around and bent at the waist, pointing and wiggling her butt at the camera. My mom put her hands on her ass cheeks and parted them as she grinned at the camera. “My son’s going to get his long -- thick -- cock deep inside Sarenna’s ass.”

Sarenna looked over her shoulder, her mouth wide in pretend shock at my mother’s words.

“It’s a Shoot magazine exclusive, so if you want to see me and Sarenna together as well as watching Sarenna do anal in her first boy-girl scene, join Shoot today.”

“Okay, and cut,” Rachel called. “That’s great for the promo clip, girls,” she said as Sarenna turned round again and sat on the bed next to my mom. “Now for the first course. Cameras still rolling?” The camerawomen said they were. “Then action when you’re ready.”

I watched my mom and Sarenna lean towards each other and lightly kiss before their lips parted and their tongues slid out, dancing and licking around against one another before they lip-locked, French kissing eagerly. Almost at the same time, still kissing, they both reached up with one hand and cupped the other’s huge tits, squeezing them, tit-flesh bulging over the top of their corsets.

“Mmmm, such fantastic tits,” my mother moaned into Sarenna’s mouth.

“You too,” Sarenna said, carefully unbuttoning my mom’s corset, the sides spilling apart as her huge mounds were released. Sarenna bent her head down and, holding one of my mom’s tits up with her hand, licked, kissed and sucked at it as she moved lower, circling her stiff nipple with her tongue before sucking it hard.

“Aaahhhhh -- ahhhh yeah,” mom sighed. Sarenna moved back up and allowed mom to do the same with her, opening her corset first, revealing her huge, round, perfect tits, before dipping her head and licking at them both, sucking on first one nipple then the other.

“Mmmm, that’s nice,” Sarenna said in her precise, English accent as my mom sucked on her tits. Mom’s hand headed south, Sarenna opening her legs as my mom slid her hand inside her tiny G-string, her fingers moving around, obviously finding her wet pussy and slipping a couple inside. “Oooh -- ooooh, yes,” she sighed, reaching over and returning the favour, her own hand easing inside my mom’s G-string.

I watched from the sidelines as the two big titted women moaned and fingered each other on the bed, my dick hard in my shorts, knowing that soon I was expected to not only fuck both of them but do them up the ass as well. Of course, tucked away in the back of my head was the thought that I might die if I did it.

How could life suck so bad and so good at the same time?

Back on the bed, my mom and Sarenna separated and giggled as they stripped each other of their corsets and G-strings before climbing on to the large bed and falling into a sixty-nine, Sarenna on top. The two camerawomen moved around it, getting different angles of my mom eating Sarenna’s pussy while she returned the favour and I knew the shots would be edited together so the fans could see what I was watching -- two gorgeous, huge titted women having sex with each other.

They stayed like that for a few minutes before Sarenna raised her head and moved off, staying on her hands and knees while my mom stood up. She headed to one of the bedside cabinets, opened a drawer and pulled out a large, pink, strap-on cock. They laughed together as my mom slipped it on and stood in front of Sarenna, jerking her rubber cock off before the busty blonde model leaned forward and sucked on the end. I watched knowing that, if I stayed there much longer, it would be my very real and very large dick she’d be doing that to.

Eventually my mom moved back and climbed on to the bed, hunching over Sarenna’s upturned ass, aiming the big dick at her pussy. One of the camerawomen moved in to get a close up of mom feeding her false prick into Sarenna’s twat as mom started to fuck her with long, slow strokes.

“Oh God -- oh bloody hell -- bloody hell that’s good,” Sarenna moaned. She knelt on her hands and knees, huge tits swaying gently beneath her in time to my mom’s thrusts, pushing back to get more and more of the plastic cock into her. “Oh God -- do it -- ahhhhhh -- do it, Lisa -- fuck me -- fuck my slutty pussy!” she cried as my mom picked up the pace, grabbing her hips and starting to fuck her harder.

My dick was practically bursting out of my shorts by now as I watched Sarenna get fucked by my mom. She started slapping her ass cheeks as she thrust inside her, turning the blonde’s pale ass cheeks red, not that Sarenna minded.

“Oh yes -- spank me -- smack my arse!”

“You like that, you dirty bitch?” my mom cried, spanking her as she fucked her with her strap-on. “You like my cock you gorgeous -- big titted -- slut?”

“Yes! Fuck yes!” Sarenna cried, reaching under herself and rubbing at her clit while my mom fucked her. “Oh Jesus -- cumming -- I’m cumming!”

“Come on -- cum for me -- cum for me, Sarenna,” my mom yelled as she continued stuffing her full of the fake cock. “Cum, baby -- cum for me!”

Sarenna groaned and pushed back hard, taking the whole of my mom’s dildo into her cunt, shuddering and gasping as she came over and over, mom fucking and spanking her the whole time.

Eventually, my mom slowed her movements, letting Sarenna fall on to the bed, her enormous tits squashing out beneath her as my mom laid on top of her. Sarenna turned her head and they kissed lovingly before they both turned to the nearest camerawoman and blew kisses at the lens.

“And -- cut!” Rachel the director called. “Thank you, girls, that was fantastic. Why don’t you get showered and changed and then we’ll film your threesome with Alex?”

My mom moved off Sarenna, gently withdrawing her rubber cock, and the two of them stood. They’d become a little sweaty beneath the hot lights so needed a shower -- they blew kisses at me as they headed to a separate shower room while the set was readied for their return and my arrival.

My arrival -- where I’d get to fuck them both -- and possibly die in the process.

I darted back into the make-up room on my own and, after a second’s hesitation, grabbed the chair from the desk and jammed it under the door handle. What the fuck was I going to do? It was decision time -- time to shit or get off the pot -- and I had no idea what to do. If Daphne was right and I fucked my mom, I’d become Alex Hazard, pornstar and live happily ever after. But if the man in black was right, I was going to die.

A fifty-fifty chance, then -- either I get to fuck big titted pornstars for the rest of my days or I don’t have any more days. I get my end away forever, or it’s the end forever.

“Fucking hell,” I groaned. “This is so un-fucking-fair.”

I headed over to the window and opened it, getting some fresh air, looking out at the fire escape.

Escape. There was a third option. They’d both said if I killed myself here, in the New World, I’d wake up in the Old. Sure, I wouldn’t be hung like a horse or sharing a house with two of the sexiest, horniest women I’d ever met but at least I’d be alive.

“Oh fucking hell,” I moaned, climbing out the window and on to the metal fire escape. A minute or so later and I’d run up the flights of metal steps, reaching the top of the building, six stories up in total. I climbed over the ledge and on to the flat roof that was dotted with square boxes that housed fans and air conditioning machinery. I stumbled across to the opposite side from the fire escape and leaned on the ledge, looking down at the parking lot so far below.

“Are you going to do it?” a voice said from behind me. I turned to see the man in black walking slowly towards me.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m scared.”

“I understand,” he said, coughing slightly. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news but if you don’t step off that ledge, I don’t think you’ve got much time left.”

“How can I be sure?” I asked. “You’re telling me one thing, Daphne’s telling me another. It’s all so confusing.”

“I know, man, I know,” he said. “You’ve come this far, though -- you obviously know what’s right otherwise you’d be downstairs banging your mom.”

I sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

I climbed up on to the ledge, wobbling slightly. Strangely, I couldn’t bring myself to look down.

“Just one more step, Alex,” the man in black said, standing right behind me.

“I -- I don’t think I can,” I said. “I’m scared. Can you -- can you push me?”

“No can do, Alex. It has to be your decision.” When I stood there, hesitating, not moving, he said “Why not turn around and lean back? It’ll save you looking at the ground.”

Carefully, oh so slowly, I did as he said and turned around so I was facing away from the drop, looking back out over the roof.

“Oh fuck,” I whispered, scared to hell.

“Just lean back, Alex,” he said. “Let gravity do the work.”

I swallowed, closed my eyes and leaned back, further and further and further - -

“SHIT!” I screamed as I reached the point of no return and fell back, pinwheeling my arms round and round as I slid off the ledge and into thin air, falling, falling - -

The man in black reached out and grabbed one of my arms, halting my fall suddenly. I stopped and swung forward, smacking into the wall of the building, looking up at him, my legs flailing, the only thing holding me up were his hands.

“What -- what the fuck?” I gasped.

“Fooled you!” the man in black laughed.

“What? What?”

“I lied, Alex!” he said. “Everything Daphne told you was true! I’m the liar! If you’d fucked your mom, you’d have stayed here in Pornoland forever!” He laughed like a cheap movie villain.

“What? Then -- why tell me -- what the fuck?” I managed to ask, my free hand frantically trying to find a hold of something. “You were sick -- the coughing -- the blood?”

“Make-up and stage blood, you fool!” he cackled. “I dislike anomalies such as yourself and get rid of them when I can.”

“You -- fucker! You made -- me jump!”

“Oh no, that bit was true -- it had to be your decision and you made it, not me.” He let go of one hand, just holding me with one. “I just didn’t want you to go without telling you how fucking stupid you are!”

He laughed in my face and let go of my arm and the last thing I saw in that world was the man in black receding and laughing as I plummeted down to the hard asphalt of the parking lot.

† † † † †

“Mr Taylor? You’re awake.”

I looked around at the sterile, cold room of a hospital, an old, wrinkled man standing at the foot of my bed, looking up at me, dressed in the white coat of a doctor.

“You had quite an accident. Can you remember your name, where you live?”

I paused for a moment then gave the name and address I’d used in the Old World. He looked down at some notes on my chart and smiled back at me.

“Good, Mr Taylor, that’s very good. Nothing wrong with your memory, then.” He walked round the bed and started poking and prodding at me. My arm was in plaster, my ribs hurt, one leg was suspended over the bed by cables.

“I’ll telephone your mother and sister,” the doctor said. “Let them know you’ve woken up.”

“Great,” I croaked, my throat dry.

It took a couple of hours for them to arrive and when they did, I wasn’t surprised -- disappointed but not surprised -- to see the grossly overweight versions of my mother and sister that I thought I’d left behind.

“Well you look like shit,” my sister said to me with an evil grin.

“Chelsea, enough of that language,” my mother said as she looked at me. “Though you’re right, he doesn’t look good.”

The doctor stepped forward. “Alex will need a good deal of help when he gets home -- bathing and dressing and so on.”

“Fucked if I’m washing him,” Chelsea said.

“Yeah, I’m sure he can manage,” my mother said.

I really was back in the Old World, it seemed.

† † † † †

A couple of days later, after more tests and pokes and prods, I got home. By taxi because neither my mother nor sister bothered to come and get me.

The small house was just the same -- full of mom and Chelsea’s rubbish, dirty and unwashed dishes in the sink, the smell of fried food hanging over everything. The only new thing was a large cardboard box about six feet tall, three feet wide and six inches thick that stood in the hall, near the base of the stairs. A label on the front was addressed to me.

“What’s this?” I shouted out.

“How the fuck do I know?” Chelsea shouted back. “It turned up the day after you woke up.”

I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and started to open it. As I cut through the address label, a delivery note fell out. Opening it, I read “I’m sorry. Come back. D.”

“Did Darla send this?” I asked aloud, wondering why my agent would send me this thing, whatever it was.

“I don’t know,” Chelsea said, standing in the hall, watching me slice open the box. “Come on, hurry up, I wanna know what it is.”

“You want to help me, then?” I asked, pointing to my arm in plaster. She shook her head and laughed as I turned back to the box and cut it open, Chelsea stepping next to me as the box fell away.

It was a large mirror, the perfect, silvered glass surrounded by a stylish steel frame. My sister and I were reflected in it and I couldn’t help but smile.

In the mirror, I was taller, better looking, had muscular shoulders and what looked to be a very impressive bulge in the cargo shorts I habitually wore. Beside me, Chelsea stood with her hands on her hips, a tiny skirt not reaching the tops of her stockings, her huge, round tits straining against the cropped shirt she wore.

I looked across to my sister who snorted. “Great, just what every fucking wannabe actor needs, a giant fucking vanity mirror,” she said, clearly not seeing what I was. She wandered off, losing all interest.

In the mirror, the New World version of her hung round a little longer before walking slowly away, flicking her tiny skirt up over her butt as she did.

“It was real,” I whispered, looking at the New World version of myself. The place the man in black had referred to as Pornoland was real. I looked again at the delivery note.

“Come back. D.”

It wasn’t Darla who’d sent me this mirror -- it was Daphne.

“Come back. D.”

“How do I get back?” I whispered aloud. I reached out to the mirror, my Pornoland version doing the same, and watched amazed as my fingers slid into the glass. “Oh my God,” I whispered, meeting the gaze of my alter ego who nodded and smiled.

I withdrew my fingers and looked at them -- they were undamaged, as if they hadn’t just moved into an alternate world or different dimension or something.

“When you’re done admiring yourself,” my mother shouted from the front room, “you can order us a takeout. We’re starving.”

If there was one thing neither she nor my sister were, it was starving. And, despite my injuries and just getting out of hospital, it was clear things were going to head back to exactly the way they were before my accident -- me running around after them with no thanks, no regard and no respect.

I thought back to my Pornoland mom and sister, how they’d been so happy to see me get released from the hospital, how they couldn’t do enough for me and how they genuinely liked me.

“Fuck it,” I said, taking a deep breath and stepping into the mirror.

I was going back to a better life.

I was going back to get revenge on that bastard in black for lying to me.

I was going back to fuck the hell out of my mother and sister!

THE END