Chapter 1

My self-centered sister Sandra had foisted herself, her live-in female lover and a pair of foster care teenagers on me right at a time when I was trying to finish my life-defining novel about War and Peace.

Let me clue you in right up front that I never had sex with my sister.

Well, at least, not real sex in the true meaning of the word.

Her girlfriend soul-mate was about the ugliest female I had seen in quite some time and that was from my open-minded perspective as a recently pardoned and completely horny lifetime inmate of the federal prison system.

Now, with a hefty settlement pension and a deed to a cabin in the Rocky Mountains, I was ready to remove myself from my fellow man and the other gender which I shall not call by name since I am trying my best to remain unaroused. In a way, it was a convenient circumstance that my sister’s BFF was a hatchet faced sour-puss with a pear-shaped caboose that made me nervous at the thought that some male had probably taken liberties with her on a moonless night filled with countless empty bottles of beer and a body that was functioning strictly on instinct and not on any sort of selective law of nature. My sister was still reasonably attractive, but I was not going to get caught in that spider web of incestuous relations that had ruined more than one family member with undying shame and deep regret. I didn’t think she was up for anything with me anyway because she shook my hand after a decade of absence that certainly didn’t make her heart any fonder.

The remainder of our so-called “family” was a pair of female black widow spiders called Tessie and Tammy. They were identical twin girls abandoned by their meth-addicted parents shortly before their row-house was demolished by an explosion rumored to be the result of an illegal laboratory for the production of chemical substances prohibited by Federal Law. I had to admit they were decent-looking girls just barely sixteen and were in excellent physical condition due to their obsession with playing soccer every waking moment of their life. I was fortunate to have enough level space in the back of my cabin for them to play and practice wearing only their skimpy gym shorts and training bras like whirling dervishes punishing the black and white ball with their leather clad feet that made the silly little ball do astonishing tricks that defied gravity. I noticed that neither my befuddled sister nor her doting girlfriend took any interest in them at all and I could not help but speculate on their dubious reasons for their “foster-care” efforts in raising the little troublemakers.

At that point in my life, I was basically a masturbating single man with little interest in up close and personal relations with any female no matter how attractive or alluring her personality. I seemed reasonable safe with regard to my sister and her slow-witted friend, but the twins posed a bit of a problem because they never failed to arouse my libido each time they bent over or squatted in their skimpy outfits. Of course, neither of them had any upper body development to speak of, but in all honesty, I was not a top-heavy admirer, but an aficionado of posterior excellence and perfect heart-shaped cheeks with an obedient attitude to go with. The two girls were prime examples of youth gone bad and they boasted about their many perverted relationships with drug dealers and pimps of different ethnic groups. I came to later find out their stories were mostly made up on the spur of the moment just to tempt me into sins against good moral character and general common sense.

I was on the verge of asking them all to vacate the premises and leave me to my writing and my masturbatory explorations when the radio crackled with news reports of multiple explosions in most major cities across the lower forty-eight. For some strange reason, neither Alaska nor Hawaii was involved in the “unattributed” biological attack on the Homeland. The news reports were peppering the radio waves with one bad news story after the other when suddenly most of the stations just went to a terminal signal and the others just ceased to broadcast any signal at all.

My sister broke open a bottle of my best “black” wine and got so drunk she fell off my south facing balcony and straight down the cliff to the rocks some two hundred feet below. There was no point in attempting to recover her body because by the time we would get there the animals would have stripped her bones of all flesh and we would only have a skeleton to carry back up the winding path to our cabin.

Sandra’s ill-tempered soul-mate was so upset that her partner had preceded her out of this plane of existence that she used my beloved .22 LR target pistol to aerate her brain housing group with extreme prejudice and the twins and I had to drag her remains from the bathroom to the balcony to send her on her way to join her BFF in rocky exile far below. I returned the deadly little pistol to a spot high enough to keep it out of the hands of the twins hoping they would not have an inclination to become latter day lesbians like their two mommies.

Now, it was Tammy and Tessie and I to act as an “end of the world” outpost of humanity and I felt generationally challenged and not quite up to the task. Fortunately, the two girls considered me an asset to their nocturnal entertainment agenda and they made great efforts to make my uninspired love-making equipment the source of their pleasure from that moment on.

At first, I was a bit perturbed that they considered me their “stud muffin” but after a short period of adjustment, I was performing beyond my expectations and it seemed like they were most appreciative of my middle-aged talents in furnishing them with vaginal exercises that left them both panting in joy and happiness constantly filled with my precious bodily fluids each and every night. I would like to say that it was physically demanding on my over the hill mass of muscle and bone, but in all honesty it was good work if you could get it and I was not ready to ask for overtime when my services were required past quitting time.

I would have to say that Tammy was the most skillful of the twins when it came to milking my shaft with her tight channel of love. She never hesitated to work my rear door with her happy little fingers making me pump more juice whenever she needed something wet to lubricate her teenaged tunnel. I kind of liked Tammy a bit more than Tessie because Tammy was the sister that constantly fell to her knees and sucked me up into readiness with very little encouragement. Sometimes, she would even do it for her sister’s benefit to get me into position for a quickie at a time of frenzied need.