Top of the morning.

I was alone in this house. I was still groggy eyed and climbing out of bed when I elected to change that.

"Honey... do you think you could whip something up?"

"Sure, babe." I turned to my handsome wife, dirty blonde hair over the side of her face. After giving her a kiss on the forehead, I descended down the stairwell. A new, immaculately bodied, smooth-skinned spouse was nice. But not enough. I turned heels into the kitchen.

"Hey Dad," my twin daughters greeted in unison.

"Hi Charlotte. Morning Belle."

Ah, high school girls. Couldn't go wrong with those.

"Cereal again?" I opened the fridge, nabbed some eggs. Belle shrugged her shoulders, causing her shoulder-length hair to tussle.

"Why not? I like cereal. Besides, cooking takes forever."

"Well, I'm making something for your mother and I. So don't go asking for seconds."

"Yeah, fatty." Charlotte snickered at Belle's mad-dog of an eye.

"I'm NOT fat!"

"Your thighs are."

"SHUT UP CHARLOTTE."

Taking a look at Belle's thighs, I had to give it to Belle. She wasn't fat. In fact, what she had was a lot of skin, all nicely sculpted by the right amount of fat and natural muscle. She was, in fact, making me quite hard right that instant.

Because of course she would. I had not conceived ugly chicks in the throes of my real-life sexual fantasy.

"Mm-hm." Slinking into her seat, Charlotte's body lurked behind her own exposed legs as she tapped away on her cellphone. She was also beautiful. I was sure she had a great ass to make up for those modest handfuls on her chest.

I decided to find out.

Shake your ass, I thought at her as I switched on the stove and cracked open a pair of eggs.

"Hey. I'm gonna shake my butt really quick," announced the slim brown-haired girl, suddenly, shutting off her screen.

Getting up, she set the phone on the table. Then she turned around on bare heels, directing her rear towards me specifically. She then bent at the knees at a light 45 degrees, jutting her juicy, shorts-covered arse outward. And just like that, she started mightily shaking and twerking her fine butt like there was no tomorrow, thrusting it up and down and up and down like she was a black, ghetto-bootied back-up dancer onstage for tips.

Belle yawned, then collected another spoonful of Honey Bunches just as a boy entered the room.

"Hey, Belle, where's my--" Noticing me, after first noticing his twerking sister, he nodded. "'Sup Dad."

"What's going on, sport." Eggs hissed and crackled as I adjusted the frying yolk with my spatula. Stainless steel.

"Why are you twerking in the middle of the kitchen, Charlotte? Weirdo." After a discreet glance from me, he blinked and made a very blatant leer at his sister's jittering butt cheeks. A twitchy dent promptly prodded the interior of his trousers' groin area. "Damn that's a fine ass," he said. To his embarrassment, drool splattered on the floor from his mouth. He went down to wipe it with his own PJ-covered arse before returning upright and approaching his other sister like normal.

"You're so sexy, Belle," he blurted.

Belle ignored the comment. She sunk her spoon into the splooching milk.

"So fucking sexy." Another twitch.

The subject of his compliments looked at him flatly. Spoon in mouth.

"Anyway," dashing his thoughts away, the brother continued, "hoverboard. Where."

Instantly, Belle's brows furrowed. The light squeaks of Charlotte's soles against the tiled floor non-deterring. "I don't know where your hoverboard is, Aaron."

Aaron scowled. "Belle, I gave it to you and Tam two days ago! Where is it?"

"We returned it to your room, dummy, where do you think?"

"Belle, give me my hoverboard!"

"Clean your friken room!"

"I WILL, but, first, um. Belle?"

"What?"

"Um. Like. You're sooooo fucking sexy."

There we go. I slipped the metal food handler below the smiling egg before me and slapped it onto a plate.

"So bangin' hot. Man what a hot whore of a sister I have. I want to plug you like you were sinking the Titanic. Hot hot hot."

As Belle rolled her eyes and returned her attention to her cereal, I poofed some bacon and sausage into being and left the kitchen for the master bedroom. I heard Charlotte let out a gasp of air, her twerking performance no longer in demand. Girl musta been a bit winded after that. She was jerking those ass-cheeks hard. The clap-clap-claps were a mark of genuine talent, no doubt. As genuine as a divinely bestowed ability amounted to, that was.

All in all, it was good to have some family time every now and again, whoever these people were.