**EVERYONE IN THIS STORY IS 18 OR OLDER**
It's currently July 15th and the year is 2935. I've been roaming these wastelands with my older sister Olivia for the last fifty years. I believe we are the last humans alive. If there is more, we haven't found them. We're fairly certain that everyone has died or fled to another planet. For the first twenty or so years, we actively searched for anyone else who survived the bombs. We scoured the planet on our hovercraft but there was no luck.
The only things left are ugly mutated creatures. Some are so mutated that they can hardly function. It's not uncommon to see deer with extra legs or chickens the size of wolves. The only reason my sister and I survived is because our father worked for the government at the time. They kept the threat of bombs hidden from the public for so long. My father got access to information he wasn't supposed to see and spent years building a bunker that could shield us. It's miles underground and had enough food and water to last hundreds of years. When the alarms went off, only my sister and I made it to the bunker in time.
The world leaders all took "vacations" to other solar systems the weeks leading up to the bombs. The wealthy followed them as well. The bombs went off June 2785 and we stayed in the bunker for a hundred years. We were worried that any sooner, we'd just die from the fallout and chemicals. We've been wandering for the last fifty years. We have the appearance and body of people in their early 30's. Scientists solved the whole aging problem a few hundred years ago. But with no one here to maintain us with the proper medicine. We are slowly aging. We still have a lot of time left even without the injections. We'll probably look and feel like we're 70 in the next five hundred or so years.
My sister Olivia is a small redhead with short pixie-cut hair. Her bangs hang over her forehead and her cheeks are covered in light freckles. She is quite curvy and after all this time spent together. We aren't shy anymore. We casually change in front of each other and even take showers and baths together. It's better if we stick together as much as we can. The wasteland can be dangerous.
I'm six feet tall and before having to survive the wasteland. I was overweight and chubby. I had pudgy cheeks and was very lazy. But that quickly went away. We've both become excellent warriors. We've fought off countless radioactive wolves and other strange abominations together. I'm glad to have her by my side.
Finding food isn't hard. Before the bombs, everyone ate shitty processed food anyway so when we find the rubble of a house. We dig out as much food as we can. I'd kill for some nice fresh steak but I'm not taking my chances with radioactive feral cows. So we've essentially been surviving off glorified TV dinners since we locked the bunker. Some houses will have a working freezer still running. But who wants a hundred and fifty-year-old meat?
"My God!" My sister exclaims. "It's so hot out here. It's always hot."
"It's either always hot or it's always cold," I say back. "You're never pleased with either."
"I complain about the cold when it's cold. I complain about the heat when it's hot. They are valid and real complaints, dumbass."
Even after a hundred years cramped together in a small bunker and fifty years roaming. We still bicker and tease each other. I wasn't very close to my sister before we had to be close. She is three years older than me and we always kind of just did our own thing. We didn't have similar interests and hobbies. We were the type that saw each other on holidays but didn't talk much outside of that. Conversations were very shallow and empty. We talked like old friends who hadn't seen each other in while and grew apart. But we were always like that, we never grew apart.
The hundred years we spent in a bunker we got really close. I mean who wouldn't? You could spend a hundred years trapped with your worst enemy and you'd come out best friends. We'd listen to music and dance and sing together. We discovered every possible way to make hyper-preserved food as gourmet as possible. We'd get drunk and watch movies. It wasn't so bad. If I was alone I would have gone crazy but it's not so bad being alone with the person you love the most.
Sexual desire was a thing we both struggled with. We first started slipping away to the small cramped bathroom to masturbate but after a few years, all formality was gone. My sister would just say "I'm gonna go masturbate in the bathroom." She'd say it with no shame. Even now as we wander, we're still open about needing our alone time. When we make camp for the night we usually take turns. One of us wanders off a little, not too far, but just so it's not awkward.
Living in the cramped bunker, I'd hear her moans and whimpers through the wall. It grossed me out at first but when fifty years go by and that is the only female around. Your mind can get a little warped. I've touched myself to the thought of fucking my sister. I'm not ashamed to admit it. I would never actually do it. It's not something I actively desire either. I'm just desperate and she's literally the last woman alive. She's quite attractive as well.
"Where are we, Liv?" I ask following behind her.
I've never been good with directions or anything like that. I just let my sister handle where we go and keep watch. My blaster is always on my hip, ready to take anything out. You could say she's the brains and I'm the muscle.
"We're in Brazil, Tyler," she replies while looking at the holo-map beaming from her wrist.
"Remind me why we're talking again and not flying?" I ask annoyed.
"Because I think we're close to something."
"We're close to what? Be specific, Liv."
"I think we're close to houses."
"We're always close to houses."
"I mean houses that aren't wrecked. One of those fancy gated communities."
I've never seen gated communities with my own eyes but I've heard about them. They are completely guarded by some kind of advanced force field technology. I'm sure the people who lived in those houses fled the planet long ago. I trust my sister but I don't understand how a gated community would be in the direction we've been walking.
"I don't want to doubt you and your nerdy ways but all I see so far is rubble and more rubble," I say dramatically spinning around and pointing everywhere.
"Trust me," my sister says focusing on the map.
The wasteland used to be a frightening place. But I've grown used to it all. I was terrified seeing mutated nature growing over buildings. Or fighting off feral dogs with six eyes. But now, that's just a normal Tuesday for us. I walk a few steps behind my sister to watch her back and also because I can stare at her ass as she walks. She's wearing a white tank top with tight black jeans. She's dirty and covered in sweat which somehow makes her look even sexier to me.
Suddenly she stops and puts her arm down. The holo-map shuts off and she leans against a warped red and green tree. She slides down on her back and plops on the ground looking frustrated. I rush over and kneel down in front of her.
"What's the matter!?" I ask putting my hand on her forehead. "Is everything okay?"
"Tyler," she says. "I'm fine. I just, I can't talk about it."
"Are you sick?"
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. What's wrong?"
"We have no secrets anymore, right?"
"Right."
I can say with a hundred percent certainty that I know everything about my sister. We have nothing new from the past to talk about. We've told each other every memory we neglected to tell when we weren't close before the bombs. I know about the time she got her belly button pierced and it got infected. She knows that I got drunk once and woke up with someone's name tattooed on my cheek. I got it removed but the story is hilarious.
"No, judgment, okay?" My sister says seriously.
"I wouldn't dare," I say in a sarcastic tone.
"I'm being serious."
"Fine, tell me."
"Okay...I just...I need to cum, like right now."
