Delivery

John sat insensate at the kitchen table as post-nut clarity set in, absentmindedly finishing his somewhat cool food, too lost in thought to really notice how good it was compared to the usual fare he had to suffer. He ran over the events of the morning: the searing pain in his head, his mother freezing up, then throwing herself at him, then seeming to go back to normal only to act completely abnormally in a different way, then his father turning into his favorite pornstar and blowing him at the table while his mother somehow didn't seem to notice, and throughout it all the constant focus on what he wanted, even without him saying anything.

The chime of the doorbell echoed through the house, breaking him out of his obsessive loop. “John! Could you get that? I'm busy right now,” his mother yelled from somewhere deeper in the house. John automatically stood and walked over to the front door, opening it to find a balding, slightly overweight UPS driver holding a medium-sized box.

“Package for Paul...” he began to say in a bored monotone, scanning the label on the package, then looking up. The moment their gazes locked, the delivery man froze.

'Oh shit, it's not just my parents!' was John's panicked thought as he waved a hand in front of the delivery guy's face. “Fuck, are you okay?” he asked in desperation, unsure what could happen now. Then John instinctively recoiled as IT happened again.

The driver, who had been dressed in the standard brown polo t-shirt with logo and shorts, exploded with extra limbs, extra cloth, extra everything, flowing in and out of the approximately human sized volume now occupied seemingly by multiple people at once. The package hung in mid air, alternately ed by nothing and by multiple limbs in nonsensical positions that should have had no effect, the clipboard vanishing into the mass of varying skin, cloth, and hair at some point. It was over in an instant that felt like an eternity to John, and where the balding delivery man had stood was now a tall, stunning Latina woman.

Long black hair, voluminous and in expertly styled waves, framed a face framed with perfect cheekbones, emerald eyes staring out of it, full, bee stung lips curled in a confident and mischievous grin as she looked at him. Her body was heavily muscled, not to the point of being a body builder, but with everything taught and outlined to a degree he had never seen in real life. She still wore a UPS 'uniform' as such, but it was skin tight and stretched to its limits. the top now with a plunging neckline that lead to a strip 1 button across that barely held it closed while displaying deep, full, perfectly tanned cleavage between positively gigantic breasts that would have looked unrealistically large in porn, let alone real life. John thought he could see a hint of dusky nipple peeking past the bottom, which was tailored straight across to show insane underboob, the UPS logo placed above the right nipple and tented by it, the pronounced points making it clear there was nothing but the woven top holding back her mounds. The shorts looked spray-painted on, clinging tightly to her smooth crotch and suggesting by the taught pressure lines that her ass had to equally ridonculous. The outfit wasn't completely a sexual parody; she had a small utility belt, which was necessary since the pockets in her so-called pants would never have been able to fit a quarter, let alone her electronic scanner, and the shoes were solid work boots. As his eyes trailed down her thick, muscular thighs, John also noted that she now had on a pair of kneepads.

She shook her head in that now almost familiar way, then shoved the package into John’s hands. "I'll need you to sign for that," she said, then in one swift motion dropped to her knees in front of him, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his already-erect cock, shoving it between her breasts. She reached around to grab his ass and used her grip as leverage to thrust herself up and down along his length at a rapid pace, her shirt pressing her breast firmly around his dick without needing any assistance.

John gasped, falling back against the doorjamb as he tried to process what was happening. 'This is insane! I can't believe this is happening... AGAIN!' he thought, most of his physical efforts devoted to staying upright and not dropping the box on her head. "What the FUCK does this have to do with g?" he managed to gasp out. Each thrust of her tits along his length brought him closer to covering her in his cum, as she was sparing no effort to get him to do quickly.

"New system. what's better than a fingerprint? Your semen on my face," she replied like that made sense. "Totally unforgeable. And it's not like you don't want to cum on a hot delivery girl if there is half-reasonable explanation for why, so I'll be a smoking hotty for you," she added, a look of intense concentration on her face as she worked to get him off as quickly as possible.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" cried a female voice from his left. John manged to look over toward it and saw an elderly woman at the edge of the neighbor's fence, a leash extending from her hand down out of sight behind his house's much lower fence and clearly being pulled on by a barking dog that did not like having its walk suddenly interrupted. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene, face going though a variety of expressions as she her gaze jumped from the the UPS driver on her knees, skipped past his clearly visible dick appearing and disappearing between her boobs, and finally tracked to his face.

She opened her mouth again, about to scream something else, but then she froze, which made John groan, only half from how close he was to cumming. As John began to shoot all over the latina's face, the old woman's expression shifted from outrage to disinterest as she shook her head, and then let her dog pull her along like her neighbor emptying his balls all over the face, hair and boobs of a woman kneeling with his dick between her breasts in his doorway was not even worth a glance.

Even as the last few spurts oozed from his cock onto the new woman's boobs, John’s gaze followed the old lady as she walked down the street. She stopped, getting her poop collection bag ready, and waved hello to a businessman John didn’t recognize as he moved to go around them, a look of mild distaste on his face. The man raised a hand perfunctorily to wave back in response to the motion in his peripheral vision and froze in mid motion as he looked in her direction. She paid no mind to his frozen state, leaning down to clean things up and then letting her dog lead her on, leaving him behind as he shook his head and continued on his way, also not glancing at John as the driver licked him clean and stuffed his dick back in his pants.

"Thanks for g so fast. They penalize me if I get behind schedule," she commented as she stood up and pulled out her electronic scanner, somehow using it to take a quick selfy of her cum-coated upper body (John could have sworn those things didn't have full color screens on them, but this one sure did). "I hope you order more stuff sometime soon. I'll take your signature anytime you want," she commented before turning and walking back toward her truck, not touching the cum soaking into her top or drying all over her chest, face, and hair. John's eyes were drawn to her ass; it was huge as he had expected, and she walked with an exaggerated swaying of her hips, making the it bounce and jiggle with each step. She paused for a full 15 seconds as she stepped into her truck, leaning over unnecessarily and wagging her ass at him before giving it a slap before she proceeded, still having made no move to address the splooge all over her. John stood frozen in the doorway, still clutching the package, his boner already fully recovered.

"Is that for me or your swap-mom?" his mother asked from behind him, making John jump slightly in surprise. "Ah, it's the pants your father ordered," she commented after grabbing it from him. John silently followed her back into the house, his inability to think of something to say starting to feel like an ongoing condition, and noticed that a pile of boxes had begun collecting in the living room. He realized that she must carried them out as he got a boobjob from the driver, and not bothered to stop or even notice it happening a few feet away from her. "Well, I guess I should see about returning these," she continued. "Not a chance these fit your swap-mom."

“What's all this?” he asked, gesturing toward the pile of boxes. He flipped one open and saw it was full of male underwear.

“Your father's old clothes,” she said, already on the computer trying to do the return. “None of this is gonna fit Cory, outside a couple button-down shirts for her to wear with nothing under them. Nothing wrong with any of it, so I’m gonna give it all to charity.”

"But what will Da... Cory wear?" John asked. The clothes his father had been wearing when he changed had altered with him, so John was surprised all the rest still looked normal. For a moment he imagined his porn star-lookalike swap-mom in nothing but that purple shirt and panties at all times from lack of anything else.

"She did say she's going to shop on the way home tonight," his mom replied nonchalantly over her shoulder as she printed a return label. "So, are you going to class or not? You should get going if you don't want to be late."