Chapter 1

Frank lived in a small house in a small town in Utah, on a road that led from town up into the hills. He lived just where the pavement ended and the road became dirt.

He had lost his job as a middle manager a month before. He had some savings, but not enough to see him through to the end of his life, certainly. The year was 1976. He was 56 years old.

It was a cool summer afternoon, and he was sitting on his porch, thinking.

Emerging from the woods on the dirt road were two girls. Both wore long dresses that seemed very unsuitable for hiking, brown dresses, almost like you’d see pictured on old-time pioneer women. There were streaks of mud and places the dresses were visibly torn.

They looked at him uncertainly. One was blond, the other brunette.

“Um, hello,” said Frank, rising and walking out to the street. “Can I help you?”

“Um, yes,” said the blond, uneasily. “We’re new to town and we need a place to stay, until we can get our bearings and figure things out.”

It seemed a strange situation, which made Frank cautious. But they certainly didn’t look like thieves or ax-murderers, and although it shouldn’t matter, of course, they were also very attractive.

“Well, sure, I live right here. Come on in.” He realized the house was kind of a mess. “Come to think of it, you could wait out here just a couple minutes? Count slowly to a hundred?”

The girls nodded and smiled, and he went in, closed the door behind him, and did his best to pick up plates and cups, old newspapers, clothing strewn here and there, and stains. It was far from clean or tidy, but it would have to do.

“We only got to fifty,” said the blond with a smile, when he reappeared, as she and the other girl went into the living room. “Do you have anything to eat or drink? It’s been a long walk.”

“Sure.” He motioned them to sit at the small table in the kitchen. He produced a bottle of Coke from the fridge and poured them each a glass. They reacted with curiosity at the sight of fizzing and the fizz in their mouths, as if they had never encountered a carbonated beverage before. He realized that if they were very thirsty then plain cold water would be better, and poured them each a separate glass of that. As they drank he got out some white bread, ham and cheese from the fridge, and made a couple simple ham sandwiches. He brought out mustard in case they wanted that, but they ignored it and devoured the sandwiches. Having finished the water, they started on the Cokes, but spluttered. Frank refilled the water, and made another pair of ham sandwiches, and both ate most of the second sandwich before pausing.

“Do you have a bathtub of any kind?” asked the blond. “We got rather dirty.”

“Oh, sure, a shower.”

“A shower?” asked the blond.

Replied the brunette, “You know, it’s like a tub where you stand under the water that’s filling it up. You’ve read about it.”

“Oh, right! That would be wonderful,” said the blond. “And these clothes ... But I’m afraid we don’t have anything to change into.”

“Hmmm,” said Frank. There wasn’t any women’s clothing in the house. “I’ve got various men’s stuff that would keep you decent, but probably won’t fit too well. Then we can run your dresses through the washer and dryer.”

“Oh, OK, that would be great.”

“Oh,” said the blond to the brunette, as the two looked into the bathroom. “Everything so modern. I shower first?”

“OK,” said the brunette, who returned to the living room.

Frank went into his bedroom and rummaged around for clothing, choosing sweatpants, T-shirts, long-sleeved shirts -- a mix of stuff, and he brought it out, where the brunette sat uneasily perched on the edge of the sofa.

“Um, what’s your name?” he asked.

“Abigail,” she said. “My sister is Alison.”

Conversation lagged. They heard the shower turn off, and Alison’s muffled voice. “Any clean clothes?”

“Sure, I’ll bring some in,” said Abigail, scanning the pile of stuff Frank had brought and selecting a few items.

Alison let her into the bathroom, and Frank could hear the two sisters talking in low voices. He realized he hadn’t brought any underwear -- but maybe girls would rather go without than wear men’s underwear? He had no idea. Shortly Alison appeared, dressed in a pair of sweat pants and a long-sleeved flannel shirt. The door shut behind her and he heard Abigail turn on the shower.

There was a brief awkward silence, and then Alison bit her lip and looked at Frank, then looked down. She took a deep breath, then said something that surprised Frank a great deal. “What I want to know is, do you know how a girl can get pregnant?”

Frank’s heart leapt.

“Hmmm, actually I do.”

“Could you tell me?”

“Um, yeah, I could.” His heart was pounding.

“It’s something to do with a man,, right?”

“Um, yeah. I could show you, I guess.” Frank smiled to show he was kidding, but Alison either missed it or ignored it.

“Could you? That would be nice.”

Frank’s cock was getting very hard, straining against the restriction of his underpants.

“Well, it’s usually done in a bedroom.” He showed her into his bedroom and shut the door behind them.

“I always figured it was something a husband and wife did alone together in a bedroom, but I have no idea what.”

There were so many questions to ask, but he didn’t want to ask any of them -- not yet. Was she 18? She looked grown up enough, but if she was underage he didn’t want to know. “Lie back on the bed.”

He kicked off his shoes and pulled down his trousers and briefs.

“Oh, my goodness, what is THAT?” asked Alison, eyes wide, staring at his erect and very stiff cock.

“It’s my penis,” he murmured, “and now I’ll show you how a man makes a girl pregnant. Show me your -- you know, down there.”

Alison dutifully pulled the sweat pants halfway down her thighs, and there was no underwear, of course -- nothing but girl.

“Spread your legs apart ... So, it’s done like this,” he said, lying on her and aiming his cock. She had silky hair down there, and in the middle was the slit, just where it should be. It had been far too long since he had done this! He aimed his cock tip, and spread her lips apart gently with his fingers and pushed. His tip felt warmth and hair, and then more warmth, and then smoothness and no hair, and it felt fantastic and right. He didn’t try to hold back. He pushed hard in and out as ecstasy overwhelmed him, and then he came -- gobs of his cum gushing right up into her, and instantly it was hotter and wetter and his cock slid in further, more smoothly, and it felt even better, and in a few seconds it was over. He pulled out and flopped onto his back. He was dimly aware that she had said a rather loud, ‘Ouch!’ back when his cock first forced its way in.

“That’s how it’s done?” asked Alison softly, turning over to face him.

“Yup, that’s how it’s done,” he said, smiling at her.