Sixty One

Flight home is smooth, Zero says, ‘I’m giving CC borrowing rights. She’s had intercourse, done the oral bit, she was an escort after all.’
‘She know this yet?’
‘I texted her, devious girl replied, thanking me for my generosity. She is well aware that I make no rules for her, only you. She’s more like a part owner, a partnership to keep our play toy in line.’
‘When don’t I do what you want?’
‘Never, we intend to keep it that way. When she has you trained, we’ll see about me.’
I grin, she’s enjoying her self-appointed status, teasing and serious.
Zero, ‘I started to wear just a t-shirt for the flight, but I thought the pilot might think you’re a perv, which you are, but so am I. Other people don’t get to know about us though, so I included jeans. Sacrificed my desire to exhibit, the fun of having you staring at my legs the whole flight.’
‘I promise to stare at home.’
‘Of course you will, that you could resist is laughable.’
She knows me, lanky minx.
According to the Urban Dictionary, a minx is an alluring, cunning, or boldly flirtatious girl or young woman. Has unusual seductive powers such that she could commit acts that would otherwise be considered inappropriate, while still maintaining an air of class or poise.
Pretty much sums up the both of them, Sophisticated Sluts. I don’t use slut as a pejorative, a slut is a girl that likes sex with men or women depending on preference, in the case of CC and Zero, both. A slut is not a whore, whores do it for money, sluts do it for fun. Neither is evil or even bad, except in the eyes of a hypocritical society, posturing about right and wrong while engaging in every sort of debauchery.
Home, CC kisses Zero, jumps into my arms for a hug, ‘Twins are outside, pleasant day, lots of sun. In fact, their time’s up,’ she goes out the back door to herd them inside. 
They come in wrapped in towels, present soft cheeks to be double kissed by Zero then upstairs to shower. Zero and CC go with, they like the girls to wash their hair, although the reticent twosome would never actually ask. She knows because of their lightened auras.
I take the opportunity to put away the guns, Zero only fired one round, mine never fired. The twins don’t know about guns, or what we use them for. 
I’m thinking over a drink when the four come down, everyone in butt hugging t-shirts and socks. The twins have seen CC and Zero walking around nude, they do it themselves from time to time. Whether the girls have reassured them I’m no threat or they figured it out on their own, I can’t say, we never discussed it. One or the other twin has wandered into the downstairs bath while I’m showering, you will remember there’s no door to the shower. They use the downstairs water closet to pee rather than schlepping up the steps. They don’t close the door, a cue they picked up from CC and Zero. If they have any interest in my male part it never surfaces, like their approach to everything, it’s a fact, not a fantasy.
For my part, it’s not erotic, just two strange little girls; CC calls them The Adorables.
‘Do you want to cook, Zero, or should I get something.’
‘CC took out hamburger patties, ground sirloin with blue cheese. I’m grilling them later, fries seem heavy with blue cheese burgers. We have shredded cabbage and tomato for toppings, gorgonzola crumbles if anyone wants more cheese than what’s in the burger.’
We park on stools at the island, wine for the girls, a little white with seltzer for the twins. I have vodka with a splash of cranberry.
Nikita reaches over and takes my glass, ‘I will taste, ees okay?’
‘Sure, a sip or two, vodka is much stronger than wine.’
‘Da, we are Russian girls, you haf Russian vodka.’
True, I use Russian Standard, in my opinion it’s the best vodka on the planet. Vodka is supposed to be a colorless, odorless liquor, but I find Russian Standard has a mouth feel, called umami, different from the rest, even so-called premium vodka. I confess it could be my imagination.
Nikita, ‘Taste, sister, ees gud.’
Natasha sips, swallows, thinks it over, takes a second sip, ‘Da,’ gives the glass to me.
Zero, ‘You going to start drinking vodka at seven? Might not end well.’
Natasha, ‘Nyet, we are too young, a sip from Commandant’s is enough. When we are eight, then vodka.’
Zero laughs, the twins have a sense of humor, made better because they don’t smile, it’s all deadpan.
‘Zero, forecast is good for the next couple of days, we should go to the range.’
‘If you wish.’
Nikita, ‘What ees range?’
CC, ‘Commandant has a big piece of property where he set up a range for shooting, pistols and rifles. He taught us to shoot, it’s fun.’
‘You will show us shooting.’
‘We will, tomorrow,’ she looks at me, ‘shall I show them the guns?’
She walks to the wall, presses the block that looks like all the other blocks, except this one opens the door to the gun closet. They follow her in. I can hear explanations, Glock, Ruger, ammunition, the other martial arts weapons. They come out, CC closes the door.
Nikita, ‘You haf meeny guns.’
‘A few, yes, and they are dangerous, you must learn how to handle them, and you will hear us say over and over, never assume the gun is unloaded, always check, always.’
‘You will show sisters, we will learn gun shooting.’
Zero found a new, old, TV series, Blindspot. A woman is found nude in a bag at Times Square. She’s completely covered in tattoos and has no memory of her life.
Turns out she’s the only female Navy Seal, which she doesn’t know, her records have evaporated. What does happen is she is a fearsome opponent hand to hand, and a deadly shot, without knowing why she has those skills. The original Jason Bourne plot was a similar situation, but a man, and no mystery tattoos. I don’t bother to find out which screenplay came first, I’m not the plagiarism police, I don’t care.
Sleepy twins are shepherded upstairs, no girls come down, I do brush, flush, and die to consciousness.
When I wake up there’s a darling elf staring at me on the side of the bed, I can’t tell if it’s Nikita or Natasha, at least not until they speak. Nikita retains an accent, Natasha speaks the Queen’s English. Zero thinks they do it so they can tell each other apart. I’ve never seen such perfectly synchronized humans, not that I know any other twins. Often they sit at the same moment, cross their legs identically, watching them on the trampoline is mind boggling. They bounce and flip like synchronized air swimmers.
‘I haf coffee,’ she sets the cup on the nightstand, ‘you will get up, breakfast ees ready and we will go to shooting place.’
I sit up, the other three girls are at the kitchen island, wave at the girls, take my coffee and do morning things, then join them.
Zero, ‘Twins were up at six thirty, I found them studying Glocks on one of the laptops. Well, Natasha was, Nikita was spinning a nunchaka, she’s getting dangerous with those things.’

Sixty Two

Zero shows the girls how to hold the Glock, naturally the smallest version, the G26, recoil on the subcompact is minimal. Target is set a ten yards, twins are taught the two handed grip, squeeze the trigger, pop goes the nine.
I oversee, have no reason to interfere, the girls know what they’re doing, the twins soaking up everything, serious not frivolous. And they consistently hit the target, not dead center at first, their determination will win out eventually.
Zero, ‘You did well, hand tired?’
They’d been through a box of fifty rounds each.
Nikita, ‘Da, a leetle,’ she’s opening and closing her trigger hand, then shakes it, ‘we will go again.’
‘Get a Coke, there’s protein bars in there as well. We’ll watch CC use the rifle.’
We brought the Mini-Mags and CC’s sniper rifle, A Ruger Precision. I drive the SUV out five hundred yards, set the targets, drive back.
CC is prone, adjusting the sight, barrel resting on the bi-pod, the v-shaped bit that supports the barrel. The Precision is a bolt action, there are five and ten round magazines, she has the five today.
I’m the spotter, for a rifle like the Precision I’m unnecessary at this range. Since we aren’t on a battlefield, I don’t need to watch her back. The wind isn’t a factor and it’s overcast, not raining.
CC is low on the first shot, hits the target but not the center. She makes a tiny adjustment, the next four bullseye, practically through the same hole.
Nikita is peering at the target through binoculars, ‘CC ees gud shooting peerson, she will keel everyone. Sisters will learn, then we will keel everyone else.’
‘Here’s how it goes, you use the Glocks until you can hit a target at twenty five yards, then thirty to forty. Anything further is guesswork. Then you will learn the smaller rifle. When you can five for five at a hundred yards, you can try the big one.’
CC, ‘That’s how I did it, one step at a time. Zero is going to show you harder targets next time as well. When you can hit the rotating star five in a row, you will be pistol dangerous, in your case, twice as dangerous.’
‘What ees revolver star?’
‘A wheel with five arms. When you hit one of the plates at the end of the arm, it falls backwards which makes the wheel turn. The next four are in motion, harder to hit. We didn’t bring it today, we’ll come again in a couple of weeks, bring it then.’
While Zero and I go through a box of ammo at fifty yards, CC takes them to the wooden table and shows them how to disassemble, clean, and reassemble the pistol.
Then it’s time to head back. I might have stayed overnight, but the twins will be hand sore. I did bring gel packs, dig out two from the cooler.
‘Let these rest on your palm, the cold will minimize any soreness.’
Approaching home Nikita says, ‘Will we get to keel some peerson?’
‘Who do you want to kill?’
‘Bad man, een Russia there are no good men, een America we think maybe not every man, but anyway many.’
CC, ‘You think you could just shoot someone, if he was a bad guy I mean.’
‘CC, we haf already cut throat of two bad men wiz keechen knife, shooting ees easy wiz Glop gun.’
‘We see meeny men and sometime women in news online. They keep kid lock een basement, maybe rape, even own children. Children are not dog to be kept in cage. You will find bad men, sisters will keel dead wiz Glop.’
CC giggles, ‘Glock.’
‘What ees difference what gun ees called? Glop, klock, point and shoot, dead, seemple.’
Zero, ‘She has a point.’
‘No point, knife haf point, I will haf klock.’
Zero laughs, ‘Okay Commie runt, you will haf klock.’
‘And also sister.’
‘Of course, Commandant will order two for your very own, your babies, you and Natasha have to take care of them.’
‘We will haf best Glop, you will see.’
Cripes, Zero is building an army of assassins. I don’t know how she does it, me, then CC, then the twins. She’s a death magnet, a girl any psychopath would be proud to call friend.
Zero, ‘Thank you.’
Nikita, ‘What ees thanking for?’
CC, ‘Zero can read Commandant’s mind.’
‘They can talk in head like sisters?’
‘No, you and Natasha are different, you can have an actual silent conversation. Zero knows what Commandant is thinking, he can’t do the same with her.’
‘So what ees thanking?’
Zero, ‘He was thinking how nice it is that you two joined us, Zero saw you and brought you in to be part of our tribe, family so to speak.’
‘We are fahmahley wiz you?’
‘Absolutely, the best part.’

Sixty Three

Time does its thing, we do our things and what seems like a few months has turned into two years. The twins are approaching ten, CC, Zero, and I don’t approach, we’re stopped.
Twin are mightily observant, particularly Natasha who says little but sees everything.
Nikita, ‘Sister says we are grow bigger, but CC and Zero do not anymore grow, they are the same always, how ees?’
Zero and CC explain, sort of, Zero isn’t sure how it works, a few years ago she said we would not age and we haven’t.
Zero, ‘We could start aging at any time I suppose, CC and I like being twelve, looking like twelve anyway, Commandant is a rusty old twenty nine but he pays the freight so we let him hang around.’
‘What about sisters?’
‘When do you want to stop, not now I don’t think.’
‘Nyet, we will see, sister will think about it. Maybe also twelve.’
The twins are like nobody else. If any other kid had been told it was possible not to age, there would be one million questions, possibly anxiety, what will happen when, what if it doesn’t happen. They accept the partial explanation without comment or question. Their mindset is neutral, it will happen or it won’t.
‘Sister says you do not act so young.’
CC, ‘We keep learning, experiencing the same as if we were getting older. It’s our physical appearance, the brain keeps learning, changing. I’m sixteen in years on Earth, Commandant in his early thirties.’
‘What ees Zero?’
‘We don’t know, fifty, a hundred, two hundred, could be anything. She doesn’t remember who she was when. All Zero knows is that she is, was, will be.’
Zero, ‘I don’t credit knowing the past as important, it never mattered to me. I would never be one of those adopted children who grow up determined to seek out their biological parents. They don’t seem to grasp that those relatives may be doing just fine and don’t want or need to reconnect. Parents are the people that raise, feed and house them, care for them when they get sick, offer encouragement, put up with teenage tantrums. Blood is overrated. Too often an excuse to manipulate.’
Nikita looks at her sister, she’s asking a question silently.
‘Da, manipulirovat, make a peerson feel guilty so they will do what you want.’
‘Exactly. Also an undercurrent of threat, implying the manipulated may be shunned, thrown out. Use fear of abandonment to coerce compliance.’
CC, ‘And what is coerced is resented, if the person manipulated realizes they’re being jerked around. Even without grasping it directly, there’s a sense of something not right, a little tingle in the mind. Guilt or fear not accepted by the mind manifests in a physical way, an ache where there wasn’t one, frustration, anger redirected from the source to a less intimidating target. A boy can’t point his anger at dad, so he takes it out on the younger brother, or the weak kid at school.’
Nikita, ‘Sisters are understanding.’
I surf our sites, one for paid assassination, one for abuse, ‘We have one of each, an ordinary conflict resolution, and another man who takes out his insecurities on his wife and a kid, with his fists, a belt, scalding water.’
The twins have participated, traveled with us, observed, then did a for profit kill, and another abuse kill.
Nikita, ‘You will make arrangement, sisters will kill everyone.’
CC, ‘My turn this time.’
‘Sisters will anyway go along, maybe you will miss.’
‘Ha-ha, Soviet Ingrate, I don’t miss and surely not from two feet.’
‘You shot cop from long distance.’
‘Not that long, five hundred yards, I’m good at a thousand.’
‘Sister can hit from five hundred now, I am not so good as her, snipering ees not for Nikita.’
I doubt many people with four girls that spend time discussing who is most talented at long distance murder. Warms my conscience-free heart.
Zero, ‘Let’s do the conflict resolution first, he’s closest, then to the abuser who’s a couple of states farther on. It’s January, we can fly from there to ski in Colorado, or keep going southeast to the Caribbean.’
‘I’m open, what do the rest of you want to do?’
CC, ‘I’m for nothing bikinis and ocean, what about you guys?’
Nikita, ‘Beach ees gud. We haf ski three times, only once to beach.’
‘If it’s settled, I’ll leave it to Zero to arrange flights and map out locations for the targets. Don’t worry about the vacation until we’ve done both, we can’t gauge the time we need, could be more than one day. We can book a hotel in the Caribbean afterwards.’
Zero doesn’t let the grass grow, we fly out this morning. 
Our SUV is waiting, a Ford Tardcart with three rows of seats and not much else. We want our travel vehicles to be virtually invisible, at the least unmemorable, like a blind date with an actuary.
Zero, ‘Follow the highway to exit four, take a right, his place of business is four miles from the exit. He’s a tattoo artist, specializes in right wing crap, flags, women with enormous tits like in a graphic comic book for teenage boys, Nazi stuff, swastikas, stupid clichés, god guns and guts. One big G, the rest lined up next to it. A definite creativity fail.’
‘Must have fucked up somebody’s ink, tattoos are easy to get, hard to lose.’
CC, ‘Kill him for a bad tattoo?’
‘Tattoos are permanent, like death.’
‘Okay, I get that.’
Zero, ‘That’s it, on the left, Fourth Reich Ink.’
‘Heil Hitler.’
CC, ‘Is it open, yeah, little neon sign…open.’
‘Two cars, one is the target’s truck, GMC Annihilator, plate’s right. The other, what is that..oh, Chrysler Oldster, top speed twenty two miles an hour, downhill, with the wind at your back.’
CC, ‘Who buys that?’
‘Parents get them for their teenagers, insurance rates drop like a spinster’s tits and they get eighty miles to the gallon.’
‘And the kids go for it?’
‘No, they hate the things, so they never go anywhere, rather stay home and study. The Oldster is credited with improving SAT scores across the country and reducing teen pregnancy rates.’
‘More effective than those YouTube videos for gamma waves, alpha waves, binaural beats that claim make you a genius, stimulate the pineal gland, align chakras, fly to other worlds.’
Zero, ‘Should we stick a tracker on the Annihilator?’
‘Not yet, if we cap him here, we’ll just have to retrieve it.’
Spoke too soon, a gaggle of bikers rolls into the lot, must be a dozen.
Nikita, ‘Ees a gang?’
‘A gang of nerds, they have Vespa Virgin scooters.’
Zero, ‘Boots and waist chains seem incongruous with Lederhosen and Tyrolean hats.’ 
CC, ‘At least they have biker vests, not denim, taffeta, club name embroidered on the back, Sons of Village Idiots, Twink Chapter.’
‘And they have name tags, Hello, My Name is Thad.’
‘A dozen guys named Thad formed a biker club?’
‘Appears to be the case, scooter club anyway.’
Our target comes outside, he’s got a shotgun, fires it in the air, ‘I told you faggots to stay the fuck away.’
Thad, ‘Now Thad, don’t be pissy, you didn’t want us to stay away at the Blue Boy Bar and Grille, you big silly.’
‘I was doing undercover surveillance.’
‘You were undercover alright, with my cock in your ass and Thaddie’s dick in your mouth.’
One Thad pulls out an accordion, the Idiots start to polka, except one who yodels.
‘He’s a pretty good yodeler.’
‘There is no good yodeling, only bad and worse.’
A kid, teenager, comes out, slides cautiously across the front of the shop then sprints to the Oldster looking behind him to see if the Idiots are following. 
They aren’t, but one flaps his wrist at the boy, ‘Stick around cutie, meet a man who can make you a man.’

Sixty Four

Tattoo Thad, ‘Leave him alone, Thad, he’s mine, you got eleven dicks to suck already.’
‘I’m going for a baker’s dozen.’
Fires a second time, ‘Get going fruitcakes.’
Thad holds up an iPhone, ‘Got you on video, hairy ass and all.’
Tattoo Thad uses the shotgun like a bat and bashes the phone across the lot.
Thad starts to cry, ‘All my photos, video, you are so mean, meany.’
Another Thad, ‘It’s okay Thad, they’re all saved on the Cloud. We can post them on twinkledotcom.’
The Dancing Thads finish, Yodeling Thad goes silent, they mount Virgins and putt away.
Nikita, ‘Ees like alternating university.’
‘Alternate universe.’
‘Da, alternator universe.’
Zero, ‘Guess who’s all alone?’
‘Ok girls, who wants the job?’
CC, ‘My turn, the twins can have the abuser.’
Zero, ‘Take one of them with you, in case he’s more aware than we think.’
‘Come on Natasha,’ she gets out of the Annihilator, Natasha follows.
We don’t hear the pop, in less than a minute they’re back in the SUV.
CC, ‘He should’ve had a ringer for his door. We walked in, his back to us, a gay porn video on a laptop, bodybuilders getting ass fucked. Put a fat hole back of the skull, head fell forward like he was kissing the screen. We’re fifty thousand richer…cha-fucking-ching.’
‘Zero, we have time to get a plane today, move on east. We’ll get a hotel and stalk our abuser in the morning.’
Zero logs on to our Blue Sky account, flight from here to there, another rental SUV, ‘Two hours to takeoff.’
‘Perfect, we can get something from a fastie, I’ll drive around while we eat.’
‘I didn’t use the same airport, ours is two hours away.’
‘Good thinking, there’s a Butt Burger up on the left.’
I pull to the drive-thru, keep it simple, the girls eat anything, order five of the same burger, ketchup, mustard, pickle, fries, five Diet Cokes, we’re on the road again. 
Plane is waiting, turn over the Tardcart, board and fly, private really is the only way to go.
We land around five, hour missing with the time zone change, another SUV, a Buick Bulimic, so ugly you want to throw up.
Zero, ‘To the grocery, we have a roomy suite at Casa Tequila, two bedrooms, two baths, full kitchen.’
‘Roast chicken okay?’
CC, ‘Good, I’ll get that, you shop for wine, get a sparkling, the twins like that.’
I check in, haul my bag and the gun case to the suite, CC comes in with Natasha, five minutes later, Zero and Nikita. The twins don’t dress identically, unless you count t-shirts at home. Hair is cut the same but worn differently, part on one side, the other in the middle. Between that, sunglasses and occasional hats for work, people see two young girls but not twins.
I still want them coming into the hotel at different times, call me a protective psychopath, protecting our up and coming psychopathettes. 
Zero, ‘We came in the side entrance, didn’t see anyone, employee or guest.’
First showers, when we’re all nice and sparkly, we gather at the dining table for a glass of wine and nuts. Zero cuts up the chickens and slides the pieces in the oven to keep warm.
We only added coleslaw, CC got a bag of mixed cookies, sugar, chocolate chip, oatmeal.
‘Maybe we should have gotten breakfast stuff.’
Zero, ‘We can hit a drive thru, the hotel has a breakfast, but better not to be seen together.’
Nikita, ‘Sisters like driving through, only at home better when Zero cooks and Nikita ees to help. We make best food.’
‘You certainly do, the only things we get for takeout are fried chicken, pizza, and 
Chinese. Fried chicken is messy to make, good Chinese at home is almost impossible.’
A relaxed evening, nothing much we wanted to see on TV, or even the streaming services, I read while the girls watch something called Stranger Things, which consists of lots of implied scary, but not much else. It involves little kids who spend their time either in a basement or riding bikes.
I go to bed shortly after ten, CC comes in and uses the bathroom, three girls take up a fair amount of space in the other one. She climbs in next to me. She’s got something on her mind, something involving the shaft between my legs. Her past taught her a thing or two, how to make me lose my mind…in a good way.
Sated on sex, we sleep, not so much as a stir until morning. In the shower, damned if she doesn’t give it another go, leans against the wall while I ease me in from behind; no, not anal, just upright doggie until she shivers and quakes. I’ve had a few delightful intimacy partners, she takes it to sublime.
Dry and I dress, we move to the living area, Zero has coffee made, ‘CC is looking dreamy, you get lucky?’
‘Yeah, but CC is dreamy all by herself.’
Z, ‘You have him right under your thumb, legs.’
‘Where he wants to be.’
They kiss.
Twins come along, Nikita, ‘We haf beezness today, not time for making flirting.’
‘Okay Cossack, we’re just getting coffee, you want tea?’
‘Da, I will feex, CC and Zero can get dress, or do you plan to feex abusive person naked?’
‘Might be interesting, but no, we’ll go as normal civilians.’
We load the Bulimic, drive to his place of business, a consignment showroom. People drag in things to sell, he provides space for sixty days, if it sells he gets forty percent, if it doesn’t they have to take it back.
‘Sweet deal, no expense for inventory, just the space, utilities, maybe property tax if he owns the building.’
It’s a concrete block affair, large plate glass windows with various offerings on display. No furniture I notice, unless you count armoire’s, most of it appears to be sporting goods, golf crap, a few grandfather clocks, paintings, an eclectic mix like a giant garage sale without the pure junk, no small appliances, no major appliances for that matter. Rick’s Fantastic Finds, hardly original.
Zero, ‘Rick is anal, the place is spotless.’
We can tell from outside because it’s nothing if not brightly lit inside and organized by type of merchandise. The street in front is reasonably busy, in part due to a hospital across the street. The trade-off is that people trying to pay off medical bills aren’t likely to have money for bric-a-brac or grandfather clocks, no use for golf clubs unless they plan to beat the billing department with a nine iron.
‘His car here yet?’
Zero, ‘Let’s drive around and see, it’s just nine, opens at ten, maybe people bring or collect stuff before it’s open to the public. Give him time to situate it on the floor, what didn’t sell goes out the door.’
CC, ‘There it is, the Jeep Procrastinator, pass it so I can check the plate.’
It’s his car, white, like the message said.
‘If we trash it, maybe he’ll die of a heart attack.’
‘We don’t get paid for heart attacks, difficult to prove we caused it.’
A van pulls in to the rear door, a roll-up thing like for a warehouse. It opens, man gets out with a hand truck, goes in. A few minutes later he comes out with a wooden chest maybe four by three by two. Nice varnished finish, brass handle, no idea what it’s good for, a hope chest perhaps for someone with high hopes. Must not be filled with gold bars, it isn’t heavy. The man rolls it to the cargo door, tilts the chest so one end is laying on the bed of the van, then lifts the other end and slides it in. Picks up the hand truck and slides it in next to the chest.
He drives off, the roll-up is still up. I look around, this is a service alley, open on both ends by not visible from any street. A long wooden fence separates the alley from whatever is on the other side.
‘Who’s going in?’
Nikita, ‘Sisters will go.’
‘CC, go with, let them have the job unless there’s trouble. Zero and I will be here,’
our car is at the corner of the building, poking out enough to see what happens in the alley.
Twins and CC chamber a round, slip on gloves, sunglasses, a hoodie for Natasha, watch caps for CC and Nikita. 
‘Double check, although he should be easy to spot, look for a slim man with pasted back black hair, resembling a weasel. Rick the Rat Face.’
While the threesome head inside to whack a rat, Zero says, ‘Interesting evening. Not yours, mine. I was half asleep, there was some shuffling by the twins, thought they were getting situated for sleep. Then I heard light smacking, I lifted my head and they were kissing.’
‘Not an innocent kiss goodnight?’
‘Not exactly, whichever twin was on top kissed down the torso to the sensitive spot and started in delivering what sounded like muffled, but intense pleasure. It went on for a while, then a quiet gasp, the bed vibed. The giver worked her way up and they made out for a bit.’
‘They knew you were awake?’
‘Must have, I propped on my elbow and watched. They didn’t acknowledge me, didn’t care that I saw. When they settled I had to use my fingers to relieve the pressure. It was electrically erotic, I’m getting warm just reliving it.’
‘Twincest, every perv’s dream. Even before the Olsen twins hit puberty men across the planet had fantasies. Fantasies the twins fueled by hanging on to each other every place they went and occasionally kissing. No make out kiss but not a peck on the cheek, on the lips.’
‘If I had a twin identical as ours, I’d have to wonder what kissing myself would be like. Twins can be like one person in two bodies, ours seem that way. Maybe it’s like assisted masturbation.’
‘Sharing is caring.’
‘I’d love to do some twin sharing, do any damn thing they want.’
‘You’ll get your shot, they follow you and CC around like pets, and their eyes linger on tight bodies and satiny slim legs. Not out of the question that you and CC sparked the fire in the first place. Unless they approach on their own, you might drop the idea that you would be open to…fun, twice the fun even.’
‘The mind reels.’
I laugh, the three show up and climb in.
CC, ‘Rat Face has been altered, now it’s a rat face with a hole in the head, right between the damn eyes, twice.’
Zero, ‘Didn’t hear jack.’
‘They fired at the same instant, hit the same spot, the normal entry wound was twice as big and Rat Face is twice as dead.’

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