The war started in the Middle East over oil routes and their effect on the World’s economy. But, now, that doesn’t seem too much matter.

Most of the World’s population was dead, either killed in the initial attacks or dying a slow painful death from nuclear radiation.

There were lucky ones though. People who, by pure chance, had been in places that would shelter them from the radiation and with enough resources to wait out the month or so needed for the radiation to reach survivable levels. I was one of those. My mediocre job was a file clerk at the National Archives in Washington. I was in one of the underground file rooms when the attacks happened along with maybe 40 other people. While it might seem odd, it turns out that dense paper is one of the things that will block nuclear radiation and we were surrounded by it. There was also a snack bar in our underground purgatory, put there by our ‘slave masters’ (that’s what we called our bosses), so they didn’t have to give us long breaks or lunch periods; we could eat there.

A month passed while we rationed the contents of the snack bars and survived. Then, we ventured out.

Other people who were similarly lucky were emerging from their safe places also; bank clerks from vaults, subway workers who were deep underground when it happened, and the like. We were all pretty happy to find others, like us, who had survived. But, there were not many.

The people from the DC area congregated at what was left of the US mint; it seemed to be the biggest building that had mostly survived the blast. All in all, there were maybe 1,000 of us, various backgrounds, races, ethnic groups, and ages. For some reason, many more females had survived than males. We figured it was because more males had outside jobs and were killed right away where the females that worked were more inside and had a better chance. Of the people at the mint, the women to men ratio was about 4 to 1.

We set up an ‘advisory group’, not to be in charge, but made up of people with the right backgrounds to help us decide what the best path forward was for us was. We figured there were probably other groups like ours that had survived around the World, but had no way to know where they were or how to contact them.

For the first month, the medical folks (medico’s) took the lead. We needed to know how everyone was. The advisory group also talked a lot about repopulation. If we did nothing, eventually, we would all die from old age and there would be no one left. We needed to think about producing new generations of people.

Few traditional family groups still existed since the attack happened in the middle of a work day. Husbands and wives were at work, usually different places, and children were in school. Some survived and some did not.

New family groups had to be formed. We couldn’t adhere to the niceties of society that existed before the war. No longer could anyone be concerned about race, social status, monogamy, or previous norms like how old you needed to be to mate up. We needed to start repopulation as soon as possible.

The medico’s in the advisory group started identifying females that were of child bearing age and males that could impregnate them. Then, they started matching them up into new family groups based purely on the ability to produce children. The members of the new groups would have to figure out how to care about each other.

It was decided that females would be designated as ‘of child bearing age’ when they turned 15. If a female started producing children at 15 now, rather waiting until they were 19 or 20 as before the war, it meant that their offspring would become productive members of society four years earlier and that was important.

Breeding age for males was a little higher, simply from an experience viewpoint. Males that could do impregnation started at age 19.

I was 21 when all this was going on, black, and very healthy. I had played football in high school and did not have a college education, but my IQ was in the 120’s.

I was paired up with three females. Two were twin sisters, Jennie and Janet, who were 15; they were white, blond, petite, blue eyed, and pretty. The third was a Latino female, Carmen, 19 years old, who had been in the archives with me. I only knew her casually. I knew she was married, but her husband had died in the attack and she had no children.

As the head of the family unit, it was my responsibility to take care of the women and to put a baby after baby into each of them.

While this was officially my ‘job’, I have never been able to have sex with someone and not at least care about them. I knew I would get an emotional attachment to these women, well, two were ‘girls’ temporarily, but that was fine with me. After meeting the three, we sat and talked for several hours. They were all pleasant, funny, and easy to talk to. Carmen, of course, had some sadness about her, having lost her husband, but I was determined to try to fix that.

Carmen, Jennie, and Janet moved into my apartment with me that night. I had only one bedroom, so we would all be sleeping together.

I sent Jennie and Janet to shower and get ready for bed to give me some time to talk to Carmen. Not only was she the oldest, but she was also the only non-virgin, so I expected her to help guide the other two. I wanted to set a couple of ground rules first though, things that I expected from them. First, we would always sleep naked and, if the three girls wanted to, they could just stay naked whenever they were in the house. Second, I am not into pussy hair. I told Carmen that I expected all three of them to stay shaved smooth all of the time. She smiled and said she liked both of those ideas and would take care of the younger girls. With that, she headed off to the bathroom where Jennie and Janet were showering.

I was cooking dinner when they came down the hall from the bathroom. All three were nude with Carmen holding the hands of each girl. Jennie and Janet looked a little embarrassed, but I told them they would get past that. Carmen, of course, had the bigger breasts, maybe a ‘C’ cup and wider hips, not fat, but more mature. Jennie and Janet’s nipples had popped, but their boobs were just beginning to fill in; neither one was big enough to need a bra yet, but they would when their milk dropped. Their hips were smallish with thighs that didn’t touch together when they walked. I figured they weighed maybe 100 pounds. Carmen’s pussy has a prominent clit that sticks out like a small finger while Janet and Jennie’s pussies were small with lips that were tightly clamped together.