Dad always liked’em young. I guess my 30 year-old mom was just not young enough for him, though Maryssa was only three years younger.
Her two girls were my age, but small for their age; about four-ten and eighty pounds if that. But despite their slim build, they had small mounts and hard nipples poking at the tight thin fabric of their almost sheer t-shirts. Their skin was also very dark, like their mom’s, but their hair was jet black, done up in braids and multi-colored beads.
Dad and Maryssa immediately disappeared into their bedroom behind the kitchen. I felt a little awkward with the two girls eyeing me curiously and me trying not to stare at what were virtually dark copies of my sister so I mumbled an excuse about unpacking and heading to a hastily prepared bedroom.
It was stacked with boxes and my “bed” was a full sized mattress on box springs. It was late, so I stripped to my boxers and went to sleep.
Dad took off the next morning around four for a two week run to Idaho or Iowa, I don’t remember which. I vaguely remember him telling me good bye and to behave.
When I woke again, morning light streamed through the window.
I went to the kitchen where the two girls were already eating cereal at the small island bar that separated the kitchen from the living room.
I had picked out some minor differences in the two last night. Laryssa had a slightly rounder face and her hair was just about shoulder length. She preferred tube tops to accentuate her tiny buds and tight shorts for her little round butt. She was a little more filled out than Klaryssa, but not by much.
Klaryssa was in a pink bikini. Not a top and short, but just a skimpy pink bikini. She was slightly more slender and her hair was maybe an inch longer than Laryssa.
Make no doubt; they were identical and if you saw them individually, you’d be hard pressed to know who was who, but together, yeah, you could tell them apart.
Of course, this morning I had noticed something else.
They had their names tattooed on their lower back in a fancy script, like a tramp stamp. Maryssa must have had difficulty telling them apart too.
They gave me a half-hearted good morning, then whispered. All I got was, “ell him?… be cool… he’s a boy, why wouldn’t he… no.”
I shrugged and grabbed a pop tart.
“Hey, Jamie?” Klaryssa asked and Laryssa jabbed her with her elbow. “Whatcha doin’ today?”
I shrugged.
“Probably ride my bike, look around.”
“Not much here,” Klaryssa said and got another jab from her sister. “Have fun.”
She was wrong. There was NOTHING here, just swamps and a few scattered trailers. It took sixty minutes of riding, ninety degrees of heat and one hundred percent of humidity for me to head back to the blessed A/C of the trailer.
Temporary as dad claimed for it to be, he took good care of it. Nothing creaked, squeaked or leaked. The door opened without a sound and I stepped onto deep pile carpet.
I heard moaning coming from Maryssa’s room. I could tell well enough that it was the TV. With Maryssa’s Citation and dad’s Charger gone, I knew only the girls were here, unless someone had a bad day and in that case, wouldn’t be watching porn.