An Easy XXX Crime ?

[JEMMA]

The classic fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel tells the story of two children who are sent into the forest to die by their evil mother, where they happen upon the candy house and the wicked witch. It does not say much about what happened after they shoved the witch into the oven and killed her.

So Vlad took over from there, starting the film with Hansel and Gretel somewhat grown up, and living in the house made of candy, where they were carefree and happy.

The first scene was of me, dressed in high water pants with suspenders but no shirt, pushing a wheelbarrow full of firewood up to the cottage, where Gretel, dressed in peasant clothing, was tending the garden, which was made up of fake plants in clay pots. I told you it was low budget.

First I noticed how, with her on her hands and knees, the short dress she was wearing revealed that she had on no panties. Vlad had already had me lick her until her inner lips bulged outwards, so the camera got a nice picture of a juicy, fuckable pussy below her bare ass.

I informed her of how delicious she looked, and slid a finger in her from behind.

She got up and told me how hot I looked, offering to cool me down by taking a wet rag and rubbing it all over my body. I shrugged off my suspenders, which dropped my pants, exposing my hard cock, which she also "cooled off" with the rag. Then she swallowed my tool and pulled off to announce that no matter how much of the house I ate, my penis still didn't taste sweet. I told her to wait, and we finished that scene with me masturbating and shooting off in her mouth. She looked at the camera and said, "Now that tastes sweet, dear brother."

Then, while I recuperated, we shot a scene in the "woods", which was the fake tree, with a ladder in front of it. Gretel climbed up to pick some apples and Hansel held the ladder steady. Of course he looked up her skirt, and when she came down he ducked his head under her voluminous skirt. She oohed and ahhed and then pulled up her skirt to show me licking her pussy. She ended up sitting on my shoulders with her legs wrapped around my back, having "orgasms" while I ate pussy with the best of them. I have to say, her "orgasms" were really quite good, compared to her real ones. All that practice we'd done had not been just for fun, it seems.

Then there was a scene of us waking up in bed together naked, and four positions of lovemaking there in bed. This time, when I shot, I had to fuck her until I felt it coming, and then pull out. The first shot showed the camera I was really cumming. Then he had me push it back in her so everybody watching the movie knew I was actually cumming in her pussy.

Her line during that was, "You're making a baby in me, Hansel!" I guess nobody was supposed to wonder why we didn't already have several toddlers running around, seeing as how we'd ostensibly been doing this since we were eight or so.

That pretty much did it for that night. Vlad told us he'd clean up, and for us to go on home and act normal. He said we'd finish it up Thursday night.

"You better not be lying about the money for this," said Addison, who had started off very nervous and stiff, and ended happily fucking me with abandon, able to ignore the camera.

"I would not lie to you, sweet Addison," said the man who had corrupted us so thoroughly. "You are going to enable me to keep living in the lifestyle I have come to enjoy. I cannot do that unless I keep my promises to you."

TBC

[JEMMA]

We went home, did our homework while eating supper, and then, after Dad had gone to bed, lay naked in Addison's bed and talked in whispers. You'd have thought that after all the fucking we'd done, neither of us would have been in the mood. You'd have been wrong. She sat on top of me and rocked, slowly, not so much trying to have an orgasm as just enjoying doing it for fun, instead of for the camera. In the end she lay down on me and we rolled over. If we moved too quickly, the bed made noises, so she closed her legs and we tried one of the things Vlad had taught us, and then filmed.

I went in deep and then rotated my hips in little circles. That massaged her clit and made it feel like her pussy was jacking me off.

She had a nice, long, gentle climax, and I pumped a load of sperm into her without making a sound.

I really wanted to stay there that night, but that was too dangerous.

So I padded back to my room and went to bed.

As I said before, there was more going on in our lives other than me getting my stiff cock in her warm pussy as often as possible. Winter break was half over at this time. Christmas was past. That had been difficult, since Mom wasn't there. New Year's Eve was coming up. Both Addie and I were anticipating going to New Year's Eve parties, and both of us had secured dates. We had even decided to take the same people out more than once, because we thought that would make us look normal.

But I have to be honest and say that our sexual relationship was a huge part of our life, which we planned a lot of our life around.

For instance, we did not have sex either Tuesday or Wednesday night of that week. We decided we should probably save it up for the movie. Our mother was a professor at the university, and because of that, our college education was pretty well paid for with legacy scholarships, as long as we kept our GPA above 2.8. But those scholarships only covered tuition and books. We'd still have to have someplace to live, and food to eat and all that. This kind of money would mean we wouldn't have to work while we went to school. So we didn't want to chance me not being able to get hard. That's kind of necessary when you're shooting a porn video, you know? And yes, I admit we had no plan on how we were going to explain where that money came from to our parents. But that was a problem for the long term future. Right now, the immediate future was all we could handle trying to plan.

Thursday night he had us shoot five other scenes. He showed us how he "lied just a little" In other ways. He had this thing that had a tube leading to a bladder. I could hold my hard cock with the tube on the side away from the camera and, with him backed off a bit, could make it look like I was cumming when, in fact, I was not. It wasn't easy, but it was easier than trying to cum five times in one two hour session.

Why he didn't just have us do fewer scenes over a longer period of time, was answered when, at the end of the session he asked us to help him pack away Hansel and Gretel and help him set up Sleeping Beauty. Apparently Kerry and Nat were going to do Sleeping Beauty. Somehow they were able to spend all day Saturday with him, and he planned on shooting that movie that day and then starting us on Rapunzel Monday.

He shot his entire repertoire with all his actors, which meant there were who knows how many copies of Hansel and Gretel already out there, with other brothers and sisters playing the parts. Like I said, that was part of collecting. Each collector had his favorite actors. So while he was working through his list of films with them, he was also working through it with us.

That night I guess Addie had had enough. She did come to my room, but all she did was sit on the side of the bed.

"I wonder what films he does with all of them together," she mused.

"I thought you didn't want to do that," I said.

"I don't. I just wonder, that's all."

"Do you wonder what it would be like to be there, watching them do it?" I asked.

"No," she said, flipping her hair. "Watching them on the computer was more than enough for me."

"You afraid Cindy would show you up?" I teased.

She looked down at me.

"Do you want to see her naked?"

"I'm a guy, Addie. Guys want to see every woman naked."

"Even Mrs. Jacobsen?" Mrs. Jacobsen was our next door neighbor. She was in her seventies.

"Every girl who might be good looking naked," I amended.

"Hmmm," she said. "Weird."

"What?"

"I'm actually jealous."

"You don't need to be jealous," I said. "We're men. We're just wired that way."

"Think about me and Jerry," she said, a gleam in her eye.

She didn't give me a chance to think about it. She lay back on top of my legs and threw her arms wide.

"Ohhhh Jerry," she sighed in a high voice. "You're so big, Jerry. You're so strong, Jerry. Take me now, Jerry!"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said. "I don't want to see Cindy naked."

"Liar," she snorted, sitting up. She turned and slid her hand inside the leg of my briefs. My cock was soft and she grabbed both it and my balls.

"Remember when I told you that, as my brother, you sometimes pain me?"

I nodded, wondering if she was going to punish me by squeezing my balls.

"Well sometimes, you don't pain me at all. I love you very much, Bobby."

"Thanks," I said. "I love you too, you know."

"I know," she said. Her hand moved until she had only my penis in it. "This is my toy now."

"Your toy?"

"Toys, not boys?" she said.

"Oh, that," I said. "I don't think that's what they had in mind."

"I don't care what they had in mind," she said. "This is the only thing I'm sticking inside me."

"For the foreseeable future," I said.

"I've been thinking about that. We could room together at college," she said.

"Addison, you have to get married some day. Mom will croak if you don't give her grandchildren. Me too, for that matter."

"I know," she said. "And I will, eventually. But he'll have to be awfully special to compete with you."

"Take your hand out of my shorts," I said.

"What? Why?"

"Because I want to kiss you, and I don't want to break your wrist, tear my underwear or crush my balls while I do it," I said.

"Oh," she said.

She pulled her hand out after giving me a little squeeze.

"How come it's not hard?" she asked, lying down to let her lips hover over mine.

"Because you wore it out tonight," I said.

"So it's my fault," she pouted.

"It sure isn't Cindy's," I said, lifting my head to kiss her.

The conversation might have gone on, but just then we heard the distant ringing of the phone on the wall of the dining room.

"I wonder who that could be?" mused Addison. " I better go! It could be for one of us."

The problem was that if Dad got up to answer it, he'd be in the hallway. So I went to the door and looked out. Sure enough, he was hurrying down the hall.

"I got it," he said.

I waved, and then as soon as he turned the corner, I waved Addie through the door. She scurried back to her room.

It was good she did that, because about ten minutes later he came to my door and stuck his head in without knocking.

"Come to your sister's room," he said. "I have something to tell you."

I got up. I was nervous about what this might be. What if Vlad's house had been raided? What if the local police saw the pictures or, worse yet, the movie of us and recognized us? We had, in fact, both worn wigs during the movie, but when we watched the scenes on the monitor I was pretty sure anybody who really knew us would recognize us anyway. I was so nervous that I went to her room still dressed only in my briefs. When I got there, the door was open. Addie was sitting up in her bed. For some reason I looked at where the tips of her breasts pressed against the cloth. They were completely smooth and rounded, as if she had no nipples at all. Dad got right to it.

"Your mother is coming home early. I have to leave tomorrow to go get her."

"What happened? Is she okay?" Addison threw the covers off of her legs and swung them to the side of the bed.

"She's fine," he said. "Their funding got cut off. Something to do with the sequestration."

"But I thought the university was paying for that," I said.

"They were, but some of it must have been covered by matching grants, and I guess that money stopped coming in."

"When is she coming in?" asked Addie.

"Tomorrow morning," he said. "But that's not the problem. The problem is they're bringing back all the material they were going to study over there. I guess the Peruvian government agreed to loan it to them because otherwise it won't get catalogued and identified and so forth. But the only place our government will let them go through customs at is LaGuardia."

"But that's in New York," I said. "That's clear across the country!"

"I know, and they don't want to pay for air transport to get the artifacts from New York to here, and her team refuses to be separated from them. So they're going to rent trucks to move the materials back here. And I'll be damned if I'm going to make her do that alone."

"How long will you be gone?" asked Addie.

"I'm guessing a couple of weeks," he said. "Depending on weather and all that."

"What about us?" asked Addie.

"You're both almost adults," he said. "You'll be fine on your own. No parties, of course." He grinned. He didn't actually expect us to have a big blowout party while he was gone. And he knew we were both going to parties on New Year's Eve.

"Damn," I said, trying to sound dejected. "I was hoping to have my first kegger."

"You don't even like beer," he snorted.

"You don't throw a kegger for the beer, Dad," I said. "You throw a kegger to get girls there, and then you get them drunk."

"Bobby!"squealed my sister. "You're a pig!"

"No parties!"said our father, a little less jokingly. "Now, I have to pack. I'm going to get an early start, so you're on your own for breakfast. I'll leave a credit card on the table, but don't go wild, okay?"

"Got it," I said. "So you don't forget it, I'll just come with you right now to get it."

"Why do you get to keep it?"complained Addison.

"Because I'm the big brother," I said.

"Knock it off, you two," said Dad. "I expect you to get along while I'm gone."

If he'd have known how well we'd get along ... he might not have gone.

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TBC

[JEMMA]

When I got up Friday morning, Addison was already in the kitchen, sitting at the table, eating her cereal. She looked up at me when I came in.

"He's gone," she said.

"I figured."

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

"Seriously?" I laughed. "Oh ... I don't know. How about we do a picture puzzle? Or maybe we could play Scrabble."

"I'm going to my room," she said. "I think I'm going to get naked and lie down on my bed."

"You don't mess around," I said, grinning.

"Then you better not either," she said.

Now This was our Honeymoon....

We stayed in bed all day. The next day we got up and went to the grocery store. When we got home, we put away the cold stuff, but then ended up in bed again.

We basically ate, slept, and had sex for the next two days. When New Year's Eve came we both blew off our parties and stayed home to fuck in the new year. I was sitting on the couch, with her sitting on top of me, impaled, bouncing up and down as the ball dropped on TV. I tried to time it to spurt in her right when the ball hit the bottom, but I didn't quite make it.

On January the third, we both woke up in her bed when the alarm I'd set went off.

"Do we have to go to school?" she asked, sleepily.

I looked at her. "What do you mean? Of course we have to go to school."

"Oh," she said. She sounded downcast, but I knew it was an act. "I was hoping I could stay in bed all day."

I stared at her. She was a morning person, and rarely stayed in bed later than anybody else in the house.

"With you," she finally added. She followed that up with a grin that easily matched Vlad's.

"We have to go to school, Addie," I said, gravely. I wondered if she could feel my cock beginning to swell against her thigh.

"I know," she said, happily. "I just wanted to give you something to think about all day."

"You mean you want me to fail all my classes because I'll be distracted all day," I said.

"Ooooo, does the big, strong boy have such lack of control that he can't stop thinking about these for a single day?" She pushed the sheet down to bare her breasts and pushed them toward my face.

"We're going to be late," I said.

"No we're not," she scoffed. "We have plenty of time."

"Not if I crawl on top of you to and have my way with you," I said.

Damned if she didn't lower her lashes and look through them as she pinched both of her nipples until they turned cherry red.

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TBC.......on Next Chapter..,

[JEMMA]

Chapter Ten

We did not have sex before school that day, but the start of school only affected our honeymoon a little. It gave me time to recharge during the day, which was good, because when we got home after school we fucked like bunnies, took a nap, and then did it again when we woke up. We found that actually sleeping together was addictive. We hadn't slept in separate beds since Dad left.

We slept in Addison's bed most nights because she had a queen sized bed, while I only had a double. Addison was literally sperm-soaked the entire first week our father was gone. One time I was on top of her, lunging away when the phone rang. We ignored it, and then her phone rang on the night stand. She had already cum, and she simply answered it, still breathing hard. Not to mention her breath was irregular because I was pounding away in her tight, wet pussy.

"Hello?" she gasped into the phone. "Oh! Hi, Daddy!"

I stopped, deep in her. Her non-phone hand went to my butt and encouraged me, using physical signals we were now fluent in, to go in circles. I did.

"Oh," she said. "You caught me while I was exercising. How's Mom? When are you coming home?"

I started grinding deep. I know it was silly, but I wanted to try to get her close to an orgasm, just to see what she'd do. I knew her body well enough by now that I could sense her excitement building. Her hips bumped up, and I felt her vaginal muscles clamp down on me. I grinned and tried to suckle a nipple, but the hand on my ass came up to bat me away.

"Good," she panted. "He's okay. But sometime he's mean to me," she said, glaring up at me. I rubbed sideways and she got a slightly panicked look in her eye. "He makes me do my homework!" she gasped. "He's right here, Daddy. Talk to him!"

She shoved the phone at me and grabbed the pillow beside her head to cover her face with.

But, of course, I had to stop, because I had the phone in one hand, which overbalanced me. I could either fall down on her, which might actually hurt her, or roll. The problem was that I had the phone in my right hand, which meant I had to roll to the right. And the edge of the bed was only a foot away.

"Hey!" I shouted at the phone as I fell off the bed and landed on the floor. I got the instrument up to my ear in time to hear, "take care of your sister."

"I am taking care of her," I said, trying to control my own breath. "I'm even doing exercises with her," I added, just in case.

"I don't want to hear any tales of woe when I bring your mother home," he said. "She's had a rough time of it and she deserves to come home to a loving family."

"We're very loving," I said, and then winced. "Don't worry, Dad. We'll clean the house and everything."

"See to it," he said. "It looks like it might be another four or five days before we start back. I'll keep you posted."

"Okay, thanks."

"Be nice to your sister!" he ordered.

"I promise," I said.

I punched the disconnect button.

Then I got up, crawled back on top of my sister, and was nice to her for another hour straight.

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《在他的敏感公鸡上尝试一些新的技巧！》高清播放http://www.olevod.com/index.php/vod/...d/1/nid/1.html

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TBC

[JEMMA]

Hindsight is one of those things that you wish you had, and then hate when you get it. Looking back on things, I imagine we would have done things differently if we'd have thought about it. I'm talking about birth control, of course.

We'd both had the course in school. But our class put most of the emphasis on disease prevention, in terms of condom use. Addison still remembers the teacher saying girls should carry a condom with them in case they got into a rape situation, so they could ask their rapist to use the condom. As stupid as that sounds, that's the result political correctness can inflict on good advice.

But the fear of disease was simply nonexistent when it came to us. We were both virgins the first time we had sex. Further, our parents had gotten Addie the HPV inoculations when she was young, and she was told, "This protects you." And I think we both fell victim, if that's the right word, to something very common in teenagers.

We just didn't think she'd get pregnant. We didn't even think, really, about whether she might get pregnant.

Personally, I think that might have something to do with the tendency for adults in our culture to stick their heads in the sand, when it comes to talking about sex with their own children. I haven't done a survey on it or anything, but I bet if somebody did, they'd find out that the average teenager is talked to by a parent about sex for less than ten minutes by the time they turn eighteen and leave the house. I'm not counting "Don't do that!" as a conversation about sex.

I'm not blaming our parents for Addison getting pregnant. I know I did that. She does too. And once she found out she was pregnant, it was obvious where we went wrong.

But the long and short of it was that, while our father was gone to get our mother, neither Addison or I worried about the fact that I was pumping her full of my sperm every night. Often two or three times a night.

Vlad never mentioned birth control to us. Maybe he thought Addison was on the pill. And while our dialog sometimes dealt with that subject, they were just lines and somehow that made them ... I don't know ... not real? He never suggested we use a condom, of course, because he wanted pictures and movies of bareback sex. And we never thought about it. I remember, now that I think about it, that the film we saw of Kerry and Natalie fucking also had Kerry's prick naked as it slid into his sister. Of course he carefully ensured that he got money shots, of us shooting jism into the girls, so I suspect his motives were financial.

We did make another movie while Dad was gone. Addie was Rapunzel and I was the prince who climbed her hair to her room, whereupon we both engaged in what would, once the movie was finished, appear to be a non-stop sexual frenzy in which the prince was able to spurt six times in one night, before he killed the witch (off stage) and came back to claim Rapunzel as his own, forever.

By the way, while Rapunzel was filmed over two nights, I never had any trouble getting hard or spurting. I have since heard that a man's body can sometimes "learn to perform" If he has a lot of sex. Perhaps this explains why Hugh Hefner was able to take care of a whole stable of bunnies.

In any case, I was having a lot of sex, and I was able on both nights to perform.

And somewhere along the way ... I performed a little too well.

Of course we didn't know that then. What we knew was that we each had a pile of twenties hidden away in our closets. Ten grand takes up a surprising amount of space, and we still had a lot of what we'd been paid before that as well. And you can't, as a teenager, go wandering into a bank with a handful of twenties and ask for hundreds without raising an eyebrow or two.

It is possible, though she's never admitted it, that Addison had a premonition. What I do know is that, after we shot Rapunzel, she told me she didn't want to make any more movies. Neither did she want to model for Vlad anymore. She didn't say why, except to say, "We have enough money. Mom's coming home. Let's quit."

And, while my body was producing all the stiffies a boy could ever hope for, I was tired.

Vlad wasn't happy. I guess we were popular with his client. Even the offer of more money ($7,000 apiece) didn't sway her. So, in the end, he sadly said goodbye.

Mom and Dad got back on the Saturday following the completion of Rapunzel, and our exit from the porn industry. We'd had one last night together in Addison's bed but, strangely, we hadn't fucked like bunnies that night. We lay on our sides, facing each other, with me in her, and just held each other while we made out. Eventually I rolled on top of her with her legs closed, like she liked it so much, and we both had almost calm, gentle orgasms. Then we rolled back on our sides and held each other again while I slowly slipped out of her as I got soft. We fell asleep that way.

There was a frenzy of activity Saturday morning when we woke up. Sheets had to be washed, and Addison's room aired out. You didn't notice the odor unless you left the room for a while and then came back. So we opened her windows and closed her door for an hour. We cleaned the house and Addison made a tuna casserole to have ready when they got home. Then she decided we needed a welcome home cake, and messed up the kitchen I had worked so hard to have clean for when Mom got home.

There was only one bit of sexual play between us that morning. While she was at the counter stirring the cake batter, I came up behind her and slid my hands up inside her shirt to fondle her breasts. She was wearing a bra, and I slipped my hands under that, forcing it upwards.

"Stop!" she said, but didn't sound like she meant it.

"I'm going to miss these," I said.

"No you're not," she said. "You'll still get to see them."

"Not as much."

"Poor baby," she said. "I have a cake to make."

"Let me suck them ... just a little," I wheedled.

"No!" she said. "If I let you suck them, we'll end up in bed and I'll have to air out my room again."

"Not if we do it on the kitchen table," I teased.

"We eat on that table!" she said, in mock horror.

"I can think of something I'd like to eat on that table," I said.

"They could be home any minute," she said, still stirring.

"Okay," I sighed, pulling my hands out of her shirt. "I'll just go beat off."

"Fix my bra," she demanded. "I have batter on my fingers."

"Okay," I sighed. "Turn around."

She trusted me, and did so, holding her arms (and her hands, which did, in fact, have batter on them) away from her body. I lifted her shirt up to her neck and told her to hold it there with her chin.

Then I Ieaned in and captured her left nipple between my lips.

The next thing I knew my face was being smeared with chocolate cake batter.

I ducked back, laughing. She reached for a towel, wiped her hands, fixed her bra and gave me a mock glare.

"Maybe you won't get to play with them any more!" she growled.

"I have to!" I crowed.

"Why?"

"Because I promised Dad I'd be nice to you."

"Go pick up the living room," she said, changing the subject.

"I did," I said.

"Then go pick up what you missed the first time."

It might have gone on, but we heard the garage door opener cycle. Our parents were home.

The honeymoon was over.

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TBC

[JEMMA]

Mom's homecoming was great for us all. We had no problem with Dad being in charge of us, of course, but it was still nice to have Mom around. She was dead tired, but we knew she'd bounce back from that. And she was excited to talk about what they'd found at the dig. Of course we weren't nearly as gung ho about it as she was, but we'd gotten used to looking interested years ago. All of us ... Dad included.

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We had the tuna casserole, with vegetables from cans. The cake was done during the meal and had cooled enough to be cut by the time we finished eating. Mom said she'd prefer it with no frosting anyway, so we just cut it up and had pieces like that.

Mom said, "I need a nap."

Dad said, "I'll take one with you."

Mom smiled at him and said, "I might fall asleep on you."

Dad said, "You can fall asleep after we talk. We have a lot to catch up on."

I sat there thinking that they'd just spent three days in the car, able to talk and catch up on things the whole time. But I knew what he was talking about. I glanced at Addison, who was blinking her eyelashes at me rapidly.

"We'll do the dishes," I said.

Dad smiled at us. "Thanks. Try not to make a lot of noise this afternoon. It will likely be a long nap."

"No problem," I said.

"I'll ride herd on him," said Addison.

"You two are certainly getting along well," said Mom, when I didn't react to my sister's catty remark.

"It's because I'm such a great father," said our father.

Mom stood up. "I want to hear all about your modeling, but I'm too drained to do it now. Can we talk about that later?"

"Sure," said Addison. "It was pretty boring, really. And time consuming. We quit, actually."

"We can talk about it later," she said. " I need sleep."

"And I will see to all your needs," said Dad.

"Get a room!"said Addison, finally.

Dad grinned. For some reason I glanced at the front of his khakis. There was a bit of a tent there.

"Not to worry," he said. "We have one."

Addie stood up from putting the last of the dishes in the dish washer.

"You know what they're doing in there," she said, softly.

"Of course I do," I said.

"I used to think that was icky," she said.

"Really? I always thought Mom was kind of a MILF."

"You're horrible!" she gasped.

"I think you're a SILF," I quipped.

"I was getting horny," she said, making it clear her horniness was fading.

"What can I say? Us guys are still just cavemen at heart."

"And us girls would like a little romance in our lives," she complained.

"I think you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," I said, softly. "I love you, and I can't imagine my life without you in it."

She stood stock still for a few seconds, and then her face flushed pink.

"Now that's more like it," she said.

"There's something I want to show you," I said. "Come with me."

I led her to her room. I closed the door.

"You can't be serious," she said. "They're right down the hall."

"Doing what I want to do with you," I said.

"It's crazy," she objected.

"I want to suck those nipples. I want to lick your pussy. I want to put my rigid penis in it and watch you put a pillow over your face because I've made you cum. And then I want to shoot deep inside you."

She stared at me. "You don't play fair."

"All is fair in love and war," I said. "And I want to make love, not war."

Which is how I ended up lying on top of my sister at one end of the house, sliding my boner in and out of her until she covered her face with the pillow, while I spurted deep inside her.

I wondered, briefly, as I came, if my mother had a pillow over her face too.

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https://www.olevod.com/index.php/vod...d/1/nid/1.html

TBC

[JEMMA]

Life settled down for us over the next week. It was astonishing how much "extra" time we had when we didn't go to Vlad's. We got homework done and had time to read, or watch TV before supper.

Mom did interrogate us about our short lived modeling careers. Fortunately, Addison had paid attention to the brands of stuff she's modeled, and was able to talk about it in a way that made her sound pretty professional. As for me, I said, "He gave me stuff to put on and I did and he took pictures. I was there for the money. I didn't care who made the clothes."

"Did you pose together?" asked Mom.

"A couple of times," said Addison, who had recognized it was probably better if she did most of the talking. "We did a couple of shoots wearing outdoorsman stuff, you know, with a tent set up and a fake cook fire. That sort of thing."

"Fascinating," said our mother. "So why did you quit again?"

Addison went into a long diatribe about having to hold your body in poses, and not breathe, and how hot the lights were, and how it caused her to sweat, and how Vlad never seemed satisfied and on and on, complaining about all sorts of things, even down to getting stuck by pins. Dad said, "You didn't mention all this to me," and Addison said "Mom understands ... don't you?" She looked all doe-eyed at our mother, who had just spent three months living on a dusty, cold Peruvian mountain, digging in the dirt all day and sleeping in a tent on a cot.

Mom said, "Of course I do. It must have been awful." She rolled her eyes at Dad when Addison wasn't looking.

But I realized Addie had just disarmed our mother, making her think her little girl was soft and unable to put up with minor adversity. She had neatly put our modeling career in the family history book, never to be examined again.

Or so we thought.

Mom had been home three weeks when Addie slipped into my room one night, frowning. We'd managed to have sex half a dozen times since Mom got home, but it wasn't the same as before. It was more tense, knowing there were now two adults right down the hall who might discover our relationship.

She sat down on the edge of my bed. The tips of her breasts were round and smooth, and that told me she wasn't excited.

"I should have had a period by now," she said, getting right to the point.

What does a guy say in that situation? Right. Nothing. And that's exactly what I said.

"I never miss a period," she went on. "What if I'm pregnant?"

I'll swear in court that's the first time it dawned on me that by fucking my sister and cumming in her unprotected pussy, I could actually get her pregnant.

"Wow," I said. I was in awe. The concept that I had fathered a child was so enormous I didn't even know how to begin examining it.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

"I have no idea," I said.

Basically, that conversation repeated itself a couple of times before we both came to the conclusion that neither of us knew how to proceed. And it was for that reason that we decided to do nothing.

When a couple of teenagers, one of whom is a junior, and the other a senior, discover ... or suspect ... that the senior has gotten the junior pregnant, but they aren't sure, it sort of puts a damper on being "In the mood."

I did a lot of poking my head into her room asking, "Are you okay?" and she did a lot of answering, "I don't know" or, "What are we going to do?"

It's not like the guy can go to her and say, "Girls miss a period all the time. Lots of things can cause that. You might not be pregnant! So we can still have sex ... right?"

Not that that's how I would have put it. But a rose by any other name is still a rose. And I think I was reacting to all this a little differently than she was.

That's not strange. I'm not a girl, but I can imagine realizing there might be something growing inside you that will get bigger and bigger and then require that you force it out of your body, at which point it will be a baby you have to take care of twenty-four hours a day. I mean it's a life changing event. And even if you want it to happen, when it does, it really affects the female in lots of ways. And if you don't want it to happen ... well that just piles more on the poor girl.

For the guy, it's completely different, whether he wants it to happen or not. Once he injects the sperm, he's pretty much done. If he wanted that sperm to take hold and turn into his offspring, then he's happy. If he didn't want it to happen, his major problem is to decide whether to stick around ... or not.

That sounds rough, but it's basically true. Of course I knew I was going to be sticking around. And I cared how all this was affecting Addison.

At the same time, the thought that we had created life together pulled at me, like a far off kind of dream that was ... I don't know ... exquisite?

I mean I loved her. I really loved her. And while I'd insisted that someday she'd get married and have kids, the thought of her doing that with another man left me feeling hollow ... empty. I knew it was crazy. I knew I'd have to let her go some day.

But now ... now everything was in flux. Her last period had ended on the seventh of December, according to her calendar. Now it was the middle of January. If she really was pregnant, I knew she'd have that baby. Our parents were firmly on the right to life side of things. They hadn't joined an anti-abortion group or anything, but we both knew how they felt about abortion. The question was ... what would happen to that baby? And the thought that some other man and woman might raise our baby also left me feeling hollow and empty.

But I couldn't talk to Addison about how I felt. She wasn't ready to hear that yet. I didn't know if she'd ever be ready to hear that I wanted us to be able to raise that baby as our own.

If she was even pregnant. After all, women do miss periods for various reasons.

But it was still possible.

Which possibly was pretty well established when that next period, which we both had marked on our mental calendar, failed to appear as anticipated.

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https://www.olevod.com/index.php/vod...d/1/nid/1.html

TBC

[JEMMA]

"We have to tell them," she said, tearfully one night, after our parents had gone to bed.

"I know," wishing there was some way we could do all this in secret.

"When?"

"I don't know."

"You have to help me," she said. "They're going to want to know who it was. What do I tell them?"

I thought about the guys she'd gone on dates with. But only briefly. I knew she hadn't done anything with them, and they did too. Besides, there was no way I was going to blame it on somebody else.

"I just won't tell them," she said.

"That's not going to work. They'll badger you. They'll never leave you alone."

"I can take it," she said.

"Addie," I said, sadly. "This is going to be hard. Kids at school will find out. Everybody will find out. They'll all want to know who the father is."

"Don't you think I've been thinking about that?" she asked, much too loudly.

"Calm down," I said.

"I can't calm down!" she moaned. "What if they try to take our baby away from us?"

That was when I discovered she'd been thinking about things in a way remarkably similar to how I was.

It was so agonizing that we couldn't take it. They say confession is good for the soul. Maybe that's true. All I know is that both of us just couldn't deal with the stress of keeping it secret any longer.

We did wait two more days. That was because we wanted to do this on a Saturday morning. We didn't want to drop this bomb on Mom when she was required to go to work. And we didn't know how long the "confession" would take. We were completely out of our depth, here.

It started like this. We were at the breakfast table, and Addison said, "Mom, there's been something bothering me and I need to talk to you about it."

Mom looked at her and said, " I've been wondering when you'd say that. You've been walking around like you lost your best friend for the last month."

" I might lose my best friend," said Addie, her eyes filling with tears.

"Who?" asked Mom.

"You," whispered Addison.

I watched as the blood drained from my mother's face. She got so pale I was afraid she'd faint.

"You're pregnant," she sighed.

"She's what?!" Dad chimed in.

Addison could only nod, because the sobbing came over her like a wave crashing onto the shore.

"Oh, Baby," moaned Mom. She got up and moved around the table to hug Addison.

"She's what?!" said Dad again. He looked as shell shocked as I felt. I suddenly felt queasy.

"Come on," said Mom. "You and I are going to the bedroom and have a little talk."

"Now wait just a damn minute!" blurted Dad.

Mom looked at him with that look she had when she wasn't going to argue about something.

"Steve, I'm going to talk to her. When the time is right, you'll be invited in. Let me handle this!"

"But ..." he looked helpless.

"We'll be back in a while," she said. "Just be patient."

"How can I be patient?" he yelled. " I just found out my baby girl is pregnant!"

"She's not a baby anymore," said Mom. "That should be obvious." She looked at Addie then, and I realized that as much as it was obvious our mother loved her, and was empathetic to her plight, my sister was in for a rough time in that bedroom.

They were gone for an hour. We menfolk had no idea what to do. Looking back on it, I didn't act like the innocent brother who has just become privy to details about his sister that most boys couldn't wait to spread around to his friends. Instead, I paced, just like my father paced. It should have been obvious to Dad that I was involved in this. But he had his own troubles, and wasn't paying attention to me or anything else.

When they came out, they both looked like they'd been through the wringer. Mom looked at Dad and said, "She won't tell me who it was."

I saw Dad's face go red and he drew breath to yell. I knew it would be a yell, and I knew it wouldn't do anybody any good.

"I'll tell you," I said. My voice was remarkably calm, for as agitated as I was. I couldn't let her do this alone.

I got it over with before Addie could object.

"It was me," I said. "I'm the father."

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https://www.olevod.com/index.php/vod...d/1/nid/1.html

https://www.olevod.com/index.php/vod...d/1/nid/1.html

https://www.olevod.com/index.php/vod...d/1/nid/1.html

https://www.olevod.com/index.php/vod...d/1/nid/1.html

TBC.......in the Next Chapter....

[JEMMA]

Chapter Eleven

It's very interesting how you think you know what will happen in a given situation, only to find out your expectations turn out to be completely wrong.

Okay. Maybe not completely wrong. They were angry. Sure. And all those phrases about stupidity and throwing our lives away, that I expected to come out of their mouths did, in fact come out of their mouths.



But that's where things went differently than I expected. I suppose to be completely truthful, I didn't know what to expect, but I knew it would be bad, and I knew it would tear us apart.

But that's not what happened. Maybe that was because our parents, being actual adults, instead of teenagers trying to act like adults, got down to deciding what to actually do about the situation. They didn't dither, like we had, or delay, or try to pretend nothing was wrong. They didn't hope for some miracle to undo things. And they loved us like parents should love their children. This was the first lesson I got in how parents can be really disappointed in the choices their children make, but go on loving them anyway.

It was pretty hot and fiery for an hour. That part matched my expectations. But it only lasted an hour, and then came the part that blew us both away, because Mom hugged Addie and Dad hugged me, and we sat down to talk about how all this had happened.



It all came out, of course. I'm quite sure that if they'd have threatened us with the kinds of things we expected them to threaten us with, that we'd have clammed up and given them only name, rank and serial number. But that didn't happen, and the obvious love and concern they showed us disarmed us to the point that we wanted to explain how it had come to be. Or maybe it was that confession is good for the soul thing, just playing out further.

I think, in a sense, that it wasn't until we described to them what I've described to you in this story, that we realized how smoothly we'd been manipulated by Vlad into taking one little step after another down the path of moral turpitude. Not that we thought of it as moral turpitude, exactly, but we all knew everybody else in the world would call it that. And we knew better. Meaning we knew we shouldn't have done any of the things Vlad suggested, such as me helping Addie get dressed, and oiling her up and all that.

Speaking of which, on the level of something that seems pretty wacked out when it happens, but kind of funny later on, our parents demanded details. I don't mean I had to describe what color I thought Addie's nipples were, the first time I saw them, but details about what, exactly, Vlad had taken pictures of and what had happened inside that changing booth. Here's an example of what that sounded like.

"Well, he said the glue on the fingernails would take a while to dry, and that I should help her get into her first outfit for the night. So I did."

"Describe the process for us," said Dad.

"Oh, I had to unbutton her shirt and take her bra off and pull her jeans down ... you know."

"So she took her own panties off," prompted Mom.

"No, I had to take her panties off too. And then I put the bikini on her."

"What kind of bikini?"



So then I had to describe that, and how it was a thong and how I had to push the string in back between her butt cheeks, and tuck in the pubes that were sticking out.

And then Addie said, "Was that the time he made you put baby oil all over me?"

At which point we were off to the races, describing exactly where I put the oil, and whether Vlad told me where to put it or not, and whether he was there while I did that.

But the wacked out part was that they had to keep taking these breaks. Mom would say, "Your father and I need to discuss this," and they'd go off to their bedroom and stay there for ten minutes or so. Then they came back and asked for more. I'm not suggesting they got turned on by any of this, or that they went to the bedroom to relieve that kind of stress. Rather it might well have been that they listened to as much as they could stand, and then just needed a little break or something. I don't actually know. But they were always agitated when they left, and calm when they came back. It just seemed odd then, and kind of fascinatingly funny now.

About the only thing we planned that was right, was the need for an entire day to unpack all the baggage. It took us all day to go over what happened, and how we came to make the decisions we made, which led us to do the things we did.

In the end, our parents found out this wasn't just a one off little accident. They found out their children were passionately in love with each other. And I think the single most important part of all this is that they didn't just decide it was puppy love, or curiosity, and that we were not, in fact, really in love. They didn't suggest that teenagers can't possibly understand what love is, and think (erroneously) that what they feel is genuine. They didn't try to force us out of love.

Of course my parents were pretty smart people. And a smart person might take a look at marriages in the society around him or her, and see that fifty percent of the adults haven't figured out what love is, themselves. If they had, they wouldn't get divorced, or cheat on their spouse and all that. So ignorance of what love "really is", isn't restricted to the young. Nor is the actual thing restricted to adults.

A smart person might look at the sometimes fleeting romances teenagers become involved in, and see those as being very similar to what many adults do as well. It isn't that what the teen feels isn't real. Love is love, and being in love for someone who is seventeen is no different than being in love is for someone who is thirty-three. The difference is that the teen may be less willing to make the sacrifices needed to stay in love for the long haul. And if that teen never learns that one of the primary aspects of true love is the sacrifice it demands we make to our mate ... then they keep going through the motions of falling in and out of love, and become adults who get divorced. That's really what teens are doing ... isn't it? They fall in love ... and get divorced.

If they're lucky, along the way they figure out how to keep falling in love every day, as time changes the person they fell in love with. And if they're really lucky, their mate figures it out at the same time.

Sorry. I didn't mean to go off on a philosophical rant. It's just that when you're as lucky as I've been, you tend to be thankful a lot, and want others to share the wealth.

Anyway, I guess there was one other thing we expected that came true. Not once, that Saturday, or in the months that followed, did either of our parents suggest that a routine abortion might be one avenue to take.

There was significant discussion about what would happen to the baby once it was born. Addie made it quite clear that she wanted to keep the baby, and would be devastated if she could not. And I would have to say that the majority of the angst I had, after we came clean with our parents, was tied up in whether they would make her give it up for adoption or not.

I'm not trying to be dramatic about this. It really was up in the air for the next five months. Basically, what it came down to was that, because we had already exhibited a deficit of good sense and maturity (not physical maturity), the jury was out on whether or not we were capable of being good parents. By good parents, I mean the kind of parents a child deserves.

And that involves tons of sacrifice too. It is love, after all. Or should be. And that was the point. We were put on notice that they would be watching us to see if we were mature enough to take on the responsibility of raising a child. If, in their judgment, we were not, then the child would be offered for adoption to people who, presumably, would make better parents.



That sounds all neat and clear, but it wasn't. There were a number of variables in this system. One of those was that they didn't nag us to do the things we knew we were supposed to do. Some of those were little things, like the chores we'd always been expected to complete, and which they had always had to harp on us to get us to do. The harping stopped.

Then there was the discussion about the danger of problems with incest babies. How would we feel if the baby had a defect? Could we still love it? Would we be willing to take care of it? What if it was so defective that the doctors suggested abortion? What then? We did a ton of research online about that. Or tried to. Turns out there's not a lot out there that has been done under anything even close to the conditions good research is conducted under. There are a lot of anecdotal stories, and references to incest in distant history. Incest, it seems, has pretty much always been swept under the carpet or hidden, instead of being discussed with any effort to learn more about it. These days are no different. There are two camps, those who have assumed nothing good can ever come from incest, under any circumstances whatsoever, and those who feel the opposite. Black, and white.



But Addie and I were as gray as gray can be. We didn't intend to become involved in an incestuous relationship. We didn't intend to make a baby. I didn't force her into anything. Nor did she seduce me on any intentional basis. It just sort of happened. It wasn't black or white at all.

In the end it was Addie's doctor who told her not to worry until he gave her something to worry about. He didn't appear to be worried at all.

Being a doctor must be really interesting. Think about it. Their job is to help people. They labor under strict laws about confidentiality. They have to report some things, like gunshots and rapes. But what if they find out a girl got pregnant by her brother, and that there was no rape involved? What if she seems fine, psychologically? What if the family appears to be dealing with the situation in a healthy way? What if, by reporting this incestuous pregnancy you would be tearing the family apart? What if you've seen more than one pregnancy that you suspected was an incest baby, but had no proof of, and those babies turned out just fine?

Think how much of that you'd have to keep to yourself. You couldn't even tell your wife. Your priest, maybe, in confession, but then he can't tell anybody about it either, now can he? I think it would be almost like being a superhero with a secret identity.

Anyway, the doctor did an ultrasound, and said everything looked normal. The baby's heartbeat sounded normal. He said they'd do more ultrasounds and keep a close eye on things, and that all worrying about it would do was elevate certain hormones in her system that weren't good for either of them.

And, obviously, he didn't tell anybody who the father was, because nobody came knocking on our door.

The medical side of things was the easy part. It was school that was hell.

We should have expected it. In fact, that Saturday, Dad said something about how school might be harder than it was worth, and that he could home school Addie. Mom said no in that tone of voice that brooked no argument. At least not from Dad. Maybe she considered what was going to happen in school to be part of the test of whether we could make it as parents or not. She didn't say.

Addie didn't tell anybody, but of course she didn't have to. We only had three more months of school left, but when you're maybe three months pregnant ... and a cheerleader ... it's impossible to hide the baby bump, even if it's not a big one. And rumors got started, and people wanted to believe them, so pretty soon it was common knowledge that Addison Stapleton, the Ice Queen, the girl no guy could ever get more out of than a few kisses, had been spreading her luscious cheerleader legs for somebody.

Her friends deserted her as soon as she wouldn't tell them who the father was. Her coach adopted the attitude we thought our parents would but, thankfully, had not. It would set a bad example if she were allowed to stay on the squad, or return next year. Sorry.

What took me by surprise was that I wasn't immune. I was also besieged by people, both male and female, all of whom wanted to know who had done the deed with Addison. My stock answer of "How the fuck should I know?" wasn't received with grace. A lot of guys seemed to think that fantasizing about who had done it, and when, and in what setting, would somehow make me feel better. I didn't get in any fights, but I can honestly say the only reason was because I knew that wouldn't come down on the "mature" side of things with my parents.

It wasn't bad enough that kids in general (and a couple of specific teachers) treated Addison like she had leprosy. What hurt her the most was that even our cohorts in crime abandoned us. I'm talking, of course, about Jerry Thompson, Cindy Jenkins, and Kerry and Natalie Watson.

Why they abandoned us became clear when Cindy and Natalie pulled Addison aside in a stairwell one day and asked in a harsh whisper, "Did you tell your parents about Vlad?" She knew they weren't talking about the clothes she had modeled for Vlad. What she was curious about (to say the least) is how they knew she did anything but model clothes for Vlad.

That was how we learned that Cindy had recruited Addison because Vlad paid her extra to find her other models who "might be interested in making a lot of money." Cindy already knew about Kerry and Natalie, of course, because she and Jerry had worked with them, making Vlad's little fairy tale porn flicks. So it wasn't much of a leap of imagination for her to think that the reason Addison was such an ice queen was because her brother was taking care of her needs at home. It wasn't true, but it was what she was able to imagine.

Maybe it was a little prophetic, come to think of it.

Anyway, it had always been Vlad's intent to get us involved in fuck flicks. His whole modeling gig was a cover for finding and grooming underage performers, especially siblings, to get involved in what made him hundreds of thousands of dollars. And when things got kinky, such as when Cindy told him, "The reason Addison quit is probably that she's pregnant," he packed up and disappeared to somewhere else, where it was less likely he'd be the unhappy host of a police raid.

Want to hear something funny? When Addison asked Cindy why she thought we might want to do that kind of thing, and Cindy told her what I explained above, she added, "Plus I wanted to fuck your brother. I think he's a hunk."

That's what destroyed their friendship forever. Cindy never knew it, but Addison couldn't stand the thought of me being in bed with her.

http://www.madou.la/index.php/vod/pl...d/1/nid/1.html

TBC

[JEMMA]

If this is sounding a bit disjointed, I apologize. It's not intentional. It is a byproduct of the fact that our lives were a bit hectic during that time period. You know some of why it was hectic. We were busy coping, and trying to prove to our parents that we deserved to be parents ourselves. But there was something else that happened which caused even more upheaval in our lives.



Mr. Thompson (sorry, I don't know his first name), Jerry's father, listened to some religious radio channel, and I guess there was a commentator one day who said it was a parent's duty to be intimately acquainted with what was on their children's' computers. I gather that porn was mentioned. So Mr. Thompson felt it was his duty to go examine Jerry's computer.

Jerry, it seems, had snuck a flash drive into Vlad's studio and made a copy of the first movie in which he got to fuck not only Cindy Jenkins, but Natalie Watson as well. And, of course, Kerry fucked both girls too.

And Mr. Thompson found it.

We've thanked our lucky stars more than once that he didn't get anything of us, either in still shots or movies. We know this because the police never came to talk to us. That also gave us reason to thank our lucky stars that the other four never ratted us out. That didn't repair things between Addie and Cindy, but we were still very thankful.



It hit the news, of course. I don't think that was Mr. Thompson's intent when he went to the police with the whole computer, demanding that whoever "visited this abomination on my son" be found and prosecuted immediately, but of course something like that is impossible to keep quiet. It didn't help that the police decided they needed to search the rooms of all the "juvenile participants", and showed up with lights blazing, instead of in unmarked cars. But we're a small town fifteen miles from the metropolis the university is in, and we might not even have an unmarked car, for all I know. We certainly don't have high profile juicy sex scandals, which is also probably why it couldn't be kept quiet. Somebody told his wife, who told her friends, and on and on.

Anyway, when that story exploded in the paper, that's when we found out about one of the more difficult decisions our parents had been required to make. Believe it or not, neither Addie nor I thought about the fact that our parents never went after Vlad. Legally, I mean. Thinking back on it, I might not have been surprised to find out my father had murdered him and cleaned out the house and then drove the truck with all the evidence in it into a lake somewhere. I'm kidding. I think. I mean he'd have to have been gone a long time to do that, and I'm sure I'd have noticed that.



But the point is they were faced with making one of two decisions. Report Vlad to the cops, whereupon his studio would be searched, and all the pictures and films we'd made would be confiscated ... and viewed by who knows how many people. That decision would also mean that everyone would eventually learn how Addie had gotten pregnant, and by whom.

The other decision was just as hard to swallow: do nothing about Vlad.

What would you have done? You could seek justice and the protection of many more than just your own kids, but would run the risk of destroying your children. What if Social Services decided you were bad parents, and took your pregnant daughter away from you? What if there were some law that had been violated that meant your son had to go to prison until he was an adult?



Or, you could look at the facts at your disposal and decide that the kids who had gotten involved in this illicit scheme were stupid, but that nobody seemed to have been coerced into anything, or injured in any clearly visible way ... and do nothing about the man who had helped seduce them.



I suppose you could leave a cryptic message on his door, saying, "We know what you do here. You have until noon to get out of town, or we're coming for you."

The point is that none of those are good choices. But you have to make some choice.

So what do you do?

My parents decided to concentrate on salvaging what they could from their children's situation. They chose to concentrate on our mental and emotional health, instead of tilting at the windmills that society might demand they do.

Actually, I don't know about that cryptic note business. It wouldn't actually take much to do something like that. It could be done quickly, in the dark of night, and the risk of capture would be vanishingly small. But the thing is that I can't see my dad doing that. Knowing what kind of skill set he probably still has left over from the Army, and knowing how he must have felt towards Vlad for corrupting his little girl, I just can't see him stopping at putting a note on the door. Now my mother, on the other hand ... I have no problem envisioning my mother marching up to his door and putting something on it that would make him pull up stakes. She would have thought of that as protecting other kids. She's been in a lot of foreign countries, where you had the government, which you had to cooperate with to be there at all, and then had the local elders or whatever, who had their own rules about justice and such.



Anyway, when the shit hit the fan, our parents recognized the possibility that we might get dragged into the whole mess. After all, we had parked the bug behind his house dozens of times, and some neighbor must have seen it there. That would come out in interviews, and someone would try to track down the owner of the vehicle described. And then we'd be interviewed, and just that fact, whether we admitted anything or not, would bring the stain of shame upon us all. I guess they didn't see any good that could come from that, especially since the paper said the mysterious Russian man had disappeared without a trace ...



So they sent us both to Montana for the summer, to work on our Aunt Maureen's horse ranch.

TBC

[JEMMA]

Aunt Maureen is my mother's older sister. And I mean older. Apparently mom was a bit of an accident, and was ten years younger than her big sister. Maureen went to "The Cow College" In Minnesota, to be a veterinarian, and then went to help run their grandfather's ranch in Montana. We'd been to the ranch before, when we were smaller, and we both loved Aunt Maureen, who was as different from our mother as it was possible to be.



Aunt Maureen was rough, and somewhat foul-mouthed, at least around the men who worked for her. Her face was already crisscrossed with fine lines that we would later learn were the result of spending so much time out in the weather. She rode a horse like she was born on one, and she wasn't afraid of anything. I still remember her stalking a mouse in her kitchen and stomping on it with her boot as it tried, frantically, to get away. Most women (and a lot of men) would have jumped back when that mouse dashed across the floor. Not Aunt Maureen. She killed it, saying, "Damned vermin!" She didn't have a husband to kill the mice for her. She was divorced.



What we did not know the last time we'd been to the ranch, back when we were ten and eleven, was that Aunt Maureen was divorced because she couldn't keep her hands off the hired hands. Our mother knew her sister had a prodigious sexual appetite, but we didn't. And, truthfully, that may be why we hadn't visited more often than we had.

But events were driving decisions now, so to the ranch we were sent.

The ranch had a name, which we hadn't paid much attention to before this. It was called the "Broken B" and the brand they put on the horses was in the shape of the letter B, but with the bottom part not quite attached to the upright. It sort of looked like while someone was making the shape out of iron, they got to the bottom part and got the bend mostly made, but didn't quite finish. Aunt Maureen explained to us that the way the ranch got its name was that her great grandfather, whose name was Bernard, almost went bankrupt trying to make a go of things when he established the concern.



Of course our parents decided to give Aunt Maureen some pertinent details. It wouldn't have been fair for her to find out on her own, and they knew it was impossible for someone living with us to miss the fact that Addison was well and truly knocked up, and that we were crazy for each other. Crazy in a much-more-than-brother/sister kind of way.

By the way, that was one of the more humorous parts of this whole escapade. After they found out about Addie and me, our parents spent a lot of time with their heads together, and asking us questions, trying to work it all out in their minds. Apparently there was no history of incest in either of their families (big surprise?), and they were puzzled about how this could happen. Dad kept saying that he should have known something was up because of this or that thing he remembered seeing, but hadn't paid attention to at the time. Like the time when we all sat together on the couch to watch something on TV and she rested her hand on my knee. And there was a time when Addie had teased me and I slapped her on the ass and she had just laughed instead of getting mad. As for Mom, she said she felt something was different the minute she got home, but couldn't put her finger on it, and just assumed the natural change in us as we matured while she was gone, was the reason.



Anyway, when Aunt Maureen picked us up at the airport in a truck so old and beat up that I couldn't believe it actually still ran, she already knew who was responsible for Addison's swelling belly. We knew that, but that was all we knew about what our parents had shared with her.

Her reaction, shall we say, was not what we expected.

She slugged me on the shoulder, knocking me a good two feet.

"You rascal, you," she crowed, grinning from ear to ear.

Then she turned to Addie, and said, in the most caring voice, "We're gonna take good care of you, honey. When it comes time to drop that little filly, old Aunt Maureen is gonna make sure everything goes just fine."



There was no condemnation. No judgment. No harangue about moral failings. She just took us in like she was glad to see us.

When she helped us take our luggage into the house, she took us upstairs in the old farm house.

"The way I see it," she said, when she showed us our room, and told us it was our room, "the damage is already done, now ain't that so? You can't get her pregnant again. Not yet anyways. Not that I think you should try that later, mind you. I suspect this one has caused a mite of trouble. You wouldn't be here if it hadn't. Am I right? And knowin' how you got that way, Addison my sweet, I suspect if I didn't let you all live in sin, you'd be spendin' valuable work time sneakin' off to sate your lusts, now just wouldn't you? Your Aunt Maureen knows a thing or two about that. I do have to admit that. So you two just spend five minutes settling in here and then come downstairs. We got work to do."

That was our introduction into the fact that we'd be staying in the same room while we were there. And there was only one bed, a big feather bed that must have been a hundred years old. We would come to love that bed, and in later times, be very thankful that it hadn't been tossed out when fancier, more scientific mattresses had been invented. Nothing can keep you as warm in a Montana winter as a good feather bed. Of course we were there during the summer, but we would still come to love that bed.



But what was most important was that we were welcome, despite the mistakes we had made. Like I said, she just acted like she was glad to see us.

Which I suspect she was, based on the list of chores we both got assigned. She had hands about the place, but they were always off doing the important work, which left stable cleaning and hay hauling and things like that to get done whenever somebody had time.



Or when two teenagers with nothing to do showed up.

It was hard work, but we didn't mind.

I think that's because we got to do it together.

And ... at Aunt Maureen's ranch ... we got to sleep together too.



So what else is there to tell you? Let's see.

We got there in the middle of March, so there was only two and a half months of school left. I can't say either of us was happy about going to a new school. Our cover story was that I was her step-brother, and that her mother and my father had been involved in a terrible accident that put them both in the hospital for what was going to be a long time. Maureen, being Addison's aunt, had agreed to take us in until our folks were finished with the operations and rehab and all that would be required before they could be effective parents again.

So the kids in our new school felt sorry for us. And, with Addison's pregnancy clearly showing, she wasn't besieged by guys trying to hit on her. Besides, we only had two months of school left, so we weren't under the same kinds of social pressure we'd have had to endure if we'd stayed back in Hastings.



As for the academic part of things, Addison had it easier than I did, sort of, because they had basically the same classes she'd been in. She was ahead of the game in some cases, and behind in others. But the teachers helped her catch up with some tutoring after school. For me the problem was that their requirements for graduation were slightly different than the school I had left. Montana required, for example, more credits in physical education than Hastings had. I also ran afoul of other requirements that could have required me to either take summer school, or extend my high school education by another semester.

But folks in Montana aren't as "wrapped around the axle", as they say it, as people are in more heavily populated states, when it comes to rules and regulations. They take a more pragmatic view of things. So they put me in a phys ed class when I got there, and the teacher ran me through a bunch of tests, to find out what kind of shape I was in, and by the end of the year he passed me in the course. They had a required class they called "Senior Literature", and I was told I had to pass that or take it in summer school. When they gave me the book, it looked familiar. When Addie saw it after school that day, she said, "What are you doing with my English book?" It turned out what was "Senior Lit" In Montana was Junior English where we had come from. I had already taken the class, or at least used that textbook. So they did some research and called back and forth, and decided I had, in fact, already passed "Senior Literature." But I had to have more credit in English, so they dropped me in Remedial English, where the teacher, who knew what was going on, had me help tutor the other kids and passed me based on that. Speech was similar. When the teacher found out about all my experience in plays and musicals, he agreed to give me the summer school course, but not make me wait until summer to start it. I started that in March, and was able to finish it up two weeks after graduation. They let me graduate, but didn't give me the diploma until I finished the Speech class.

Graduating from a school I'd only attended for a little more than two months wasn't something I'll call a highlight of my life. Not that I wanted to attend another year of high school just so I could feel some investment in my alma mater. Besides, the other things going on compensated for that. Our parents did come up for graduation. Of course they couldn't tell anybody who they were, because they were supposed to be in rehab. That's another one of those things you put in the box that holds "things we laugh about now, but didn't when it happened." We had a little party at the ranch, but then they had to get back home for work.



Looking back on that, it is only now that we can realize how hard this must have been on Mom and Dad. They never showed it. They always smiled and hugged us and supported us with nothing but love. But it had to have been a very dark time in their lives. Later that would change, thank goodness. But let's not get out of order.

That summer we worked hard. Because we worked hard we got along well with all the hands. They knew we lived in "the big house" but as family members they didn't find that strange. Whether they knew we lived in the same room, I couldn't say. It's possible, because occasionally, a hand would show up "to talk to the boss" and then end up staying the night in her room. We thought that was funny, because Aunt Maureen was in her fifties, and the hands were in their twenties. Apparently she was a tiger in bed. The fact is that with that going on too, we didn't feel all that unconventional at all.



While we worked hard, we loved hard too, most nights in that feather bed. If you've never been in an old fashioned feather bed, the mattress, which is a foot thick, is supported by canvas webbing that is stretched across the frame. That webbing sags over time, and when you compress twelve inches of goose down in the middle, the sides kind of curl up to enfold you. If you have someone with you, the two of you are literally thrown together. You can't roll apart, even if you want to. Well, you can, I suppose, but as soon as you relax, the bed will roll you back to the center.

Of course, we didn't want to roll apart. Sleeping together again was such a treat, we loved it, even when we got sweaty in that bed. The only down side was that getting out of it took some effort. You had to get on all fours and crawl to the edge. But you get used to that, just like you get used to getting up when it's still dark and moving around right away. No lazing around in bed on a working ranch. Trust me on that.



I don't know whether it was all the work we did or not, but as Addie's pregnancy progressed, the changes in her body weren't quite what I'd expected. I'd seen pregnant women before, of course, but most of them looked like it was a lot of work to carry their baby. They looked heavy all over, sort of. I'm not saying they weren't attractive. Some were and some weren't. But their original looks didn't have anything to do with it. The ones I'd seen in the past just had that beached whale kind of appearance that women complain about when they're pregnant.



Not Addison. She was slim and trim everywhere except her baby bump, and as that grew to maturity, it simply looked like she'd swallowed a soccer ball. Oh, her belly was stretched. No doubt about that. But it didn't blow her up like some odd balloon, and she didn't have back aches and waddle and all that.

There was one accommodation we had to make. Vlad had taught us the doggy style position. She hadn't liked that much, because she had to do some of the work, paying attention to her clit while I paid attention to my cock. Doggy style was good for me, but not so much for her. At least not if she wanted to just lie there and soak it all in. But with her belly sticking out, doggy style was the best way for me to get off and squirt. Of course she still loved sitting on top of me impaled, and belly dancing, jerking her hips forward and back. And that worked well in the feather bed. But it wasn't as good for getting me to spurt. So we kind of got in the habit of letting me go first, sometime in the evening, or even during the day, depending on what was going on. Then, at night, in the bed, it was all about her.



They say time flies when you're having fun. The summer seemed to fly by. It got to be the middle of August, and school was about to start, both in Montana and back home. Obviously Addison couldn't go back home yet. But there had been some discussion about me going back. Our situation had messed up college for me, because there was no guarantee that I'd be able to graduate from high school on time, and that meant I couldn't really apply to any colleges. So Mom and Dad had been suggesting that at least I could enroll in the Tech college, and take some of the classes that would transfer credit to a university once I applied and was accepted. There had never been any talk about doing anything other than going to college, and that hadn't changed.

So I was trying to figure out what to do while I rode standing on the three point hitch of the tractor behind Addie, who was driving. We had gone out to take down a diseased tree, and rather than cutting it up there and hauling all the pieces, I just wrapped the end of a log chain around the trunk, and hooked the other end to the ball on the back of the tractor. Then Addie started dragging the whole thing back to the burn pile out beyond the barn. I had been watching the tree, but it was pulling fine. I admit I was unhappy about the thought of leaving Addison there to have the baby and finish high school without me.



When we got to the burn pile she stood up, kind of spraddle legged, and looked down at jeans that looked like she'd peed herself half a dozen times in a row.

"Unhook that fucking tree, Bobby," she said, calmly. "My water broke and I'm having contractions. I think it's time to go."

http://www.madou.la/index.php/vod/pl...d/1/nid/1.html

TBC

[JEMMA]

Aunt Maureen was the one who flipped out. Addison and I had studied up on all this, including the concepts of Lamaze breathing, so that's what she did on the way to the hospital. Dr. Hobbs, her obstetrician, had been told Addie got drunk at a party and didn't know who the father was. Her previous doctor's records were obtained. While Dr. Anderson had known it was an incest baby, he hadn't put that into the file. His notes just stated that he was concerned about the development of the fetus, and had recommended frequent sonograms to keep an eye on things. Dr. Hobbs had done that, and had more than once asked her why Dr. Anderson had been so concerned. She said she didn't know, unless it was because she'd been so drunk at the point of conception. He said, "Well, the baby is fine, so I guess we won't worry about it." They were both happy.



So Addison went into labor not worried that there might be something wrong with the baby she already loved so much, and which both of us had stroked and talked to inside her belly for literally hours and hours. That I got to be there too, was the result of our cover story about Addison and me. People knew the sad tale of how we came to be at the ranch. And it was also assumed that it must be too soon since the accident for either parent to show up for the birth.



So nobody thought it was odd that a girl might want her step-brother, the only member of her family capable of being there to support her, in with her during labor. Especially since he had helped her train to do the breathing. Aunt Maureen was there, of course, but she left often, usually after a particularly strong contraction. She might have had a whole string of lovers, but she'd never had children. It became obvious that one reason she'd paid such careful attention to birth control was that the idea of going through what Addie was going through terrified her. She could face down a rampaging stallion with no problem, but have her watch Addison work through a strong contraction ... and she was reduced to a wreck.

It was different for me, for some reason. Maybe it's because I was the reason she was there, and having to go through all that. I wanted to be there, to help her if I could, and support her while she delivered our baby.

I'll tell you this. Watching a woman force a baby out of her body is a fascinating thing. She goes through all this pain that is obvious, and cannot be avoided, and comes without warning, whenever it's ready to come. And it happens hundreds of times over hours and hours. She gets worn out, and can't get comfortable, no matter what position she gets in. And if she somehow does find a comfortable position, a nurse tells her she has to move because the baby is being stressed by her being in that position. But through all of that, Addison didn't whine and moan and complain about it. She cried out in pain, but it was just that, an honest response to pain. She didn't tell me she hated me for doing this to her. In fact, more than once she pulled my ear next to her lips and whispered that she loved me!



And then, after all that, when she's wet with sweat, and the cords in her neck are standing out so starkly you could clip a clothes pin to them, and the doctor says, "Come on, Addie, one more push," and she finally flops back and says, " I can't!" In this tortured voice, you feel so helpless. You can't do anything for her except hold her hand, and tell her you love her, and none of that helps, because there's this huge thing stuck in her vagina, and everything hurts.

But the doctor has seen this a hundred times, and he sits patiently between her spread thighs, the only other man in the world who has seen her there, and he wheedles her into giving it one more try, and she grabs the steel railing that keeps her from falling off the table and strains and grunts for a push that seems like it lasts five minutes, not breathing at all while she does it. And the doctor praises her and asks for one more, and she's crying with the frustration of wanting to do what he's asking, but being too tired, and too out of breath.



And then, so suddenly it takes your breath away, the head pops out, and the nurses all make this unique kind of sound of approval as the mother's breath rushes out at the incredible, sudden loss of pressure in her groin. And this time she pushes instinctively, rather than because her uterine muscles demand it, and the doctor's hands do this funny little twisting thing while supporting the baby's head and the little body fairly squirts out into his hands. As this happens, you see the baby's shoulders hunched together, at first, and that baby looks slimy and blue and not quite human, somehow, until suddenly its arms wave and it cries and announces to the world that it liked being in the warm, safe cocoon of its mother's womb, and is not happy about losing that security. It flowers, there in the first blanket to touch its skin. It becomes a real, live, human baby.

Your baby!

And then you watch as it takes too long for the nurses to do whatever it is they're doing to the newborn, and the doctor says, " It's a boy!" which is unnecessary, because you've known that from the ultrasounds for months, but it shocks you into a big, goofy grin anyway.



Okay, I'm back. Whenever I remember those sixty seconds in time, when my son came into the world, it just takes me back.

Anyway, the reason I said the nurses were taking too long was because Addison, who had been braver and stronger than I could ever be for the last sixteen hours, was so tired that the only strength she had was to try, feebly, to sit up while she turns into a whining girl again and uses her pouting voice to ask, "Where's my baby?!"

There is nothing like watching a woman being handed her baby for the first time. He was still crying, but as soon as his naked skin touched hers, he quieted. Maybe it's smell. That's the only thing I can think of. A baby knows its mothers scent, and that calms him.

"You can try to nurse him," said a nurse, standing beside Addison's head, "but he probably won't take the nipple for several hours. He isn't really hungry right now. It's all too strange for him."

And then they had other things to do with Addison. She had to keep pushing to get the placenta out, and they took the baby off to clean him up, and ink the bottom of a foot and put that on paper and whatever else they do to babies. And suddenly Aunt Maureen and I weren't needed any longer, so with a hurried grab at her hand I told Addie we'd see her later. She smiled tiredly and we left.

Aunt Maureen and I left the hospital and went to a diner, where we had our first good meal in what seemed like days. After we ate, we went back to the car, an old Lincoln Continental that Aunt Maureen's father had purchased new. She'd taken good care of it and it was still in mint condition. She hadn't batted an eye at putting her niece into the back seat while she was in the process of having a baby, to take her to the hospital. When we got in, she didn't start it. Instead, she turned sideways in the seat and looked at me.

"So what are you kids going to do now?"

"Go back home, I guess," I said. "I mean, that's the plan, as far as I know it."

"Aren't you going to college?"

"I sent in some applications, but all this ... other ... happened and we ended up here, and all our plans got kind of shelved."

"So you're going to go back to Hastings and work at McDonald's or something?"

"That doesn't sound so attractive," I sighed. "Mom and Dad say I should go to the Tech when I get back, and start college that way."

"You do good work, Bobby. You're a natural with horses. Why don't you stay here?"

"Mom's going to help Addie with the baby," I said. "Addie has to finish school."

"That doesn't mean you have to be there too," said Aunt Maureen.

I think I looked shocked or something. She laughed.

"Can't stand the thought of being separated? You know that's what got you into this mess in the first place."

"I know," I said. " I don't know what to do."

"Want to know what I think?" she asked.

"Sure."

"I think you should go to college. Get yourself an Ag degree. And then come back here and help me run the ranch. One of these days I'm going to get tired of all the work, and want to relax a mite. And I'm not going to live forever. I ain't got no kids to leave the place to. I'd hate for some shark assed big corporation to buy it at auction and then sell it all off in pieces."

She frowned at the thought, but then her face relaxed.

"Then, after your sister finishes school, she can either join you at college, or come back here and work. Martha's in the same fix I am. She's gonna quit workin' one of these years and then I'm gonna need a new cook. Addie's good in the kitchen. The two of you could end up owning this ranch."

"You'd give us the ranch?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"I'd sell you the ranch," she corrected. "Part of the deal is I get to stay here until I croak. I'm gonna need somebody to take care of me in my dotage."

I opened the door. "I need to go talk to Addie."

She laughed. "Give the girl time to catch her breath. If I'd gone through what she just did, I doubt I'd want to see your ugly mug right away."

"She loves me," I objected. "She told me so a bunch of times in there."

"Be that as it may," said my aunt. "Now's not the time to hit her with something like that. Let's let her get her feet on the ground. And you're right. She does need to go back home for some help with that baby. I know nothing about the little rug rats, and don't want to learn. At the same time, you need to make plans. You're a man now, Bobby. You're gonna have to make your way in the world, one way or another. I know the popular thing these days is for kids to hang around the home place when they should be out doing something useful, but that don't mean you have to sign on to that plan. I've got friends at the University of Minnesota. I s'pect I can get you a seat there, and quite likely a scholarship too. It all depends on whether you're willin' to do the work to earn a shot at ownin' this ranch."



I closed the door again. My mind was whirling.

She let me think about it for two more hours and then said it was time to go back to the hospital and see Addison.

I knew I would have to have made some decisions by the time I saw my sister again.

And then it would be her turn.

TBC....on the next Chapter

[JEMMA]

Epilogue

My sister has a vivid imagination. She still swears that's why she ever agreed to do anything sexual with me in the first place. She says she closed her eyes and imagined us doing what Vlad was suggesting, and all she could see was a warm, sunny place where she didn't have to be afraid, and could try out some things she was intensely curious about.





I have often wondered if that was the only true thing Vlad ever told us ... that in Russia, this attitude about trying things with someone you know already loves you is more acceptable than it is here.

Anyway, she had no problem whatsoever adopting Aunt Maureen's idea of a possible future for us as her own. In fact, ten minutes after she heard about it, she was making plans with Aunt Maureen about how to make it all happen.



I'm making it sound like it was all sweetness and light. That was not the case. Addison wanted to stay at the ranch, and finish school there. Aunt Maureen wanted no part of that, insisting that her sister needed to help raise the baby, not her. I think some of the terror childbirth had caused in her remained, hanging around in Maureen's brain, and the thought of the horrible unknown of having a tiny, helpless baby in the house, and that she might have to be responsible for that tiny, helpless thing's health while Addie was at school, just scared her to death.

That part was out of our hands anyway, which became clear when our parents arrived, having driven straight through, without stopping for anything except food and gas, changing drivers every four or five hours while one slept and the other drove. While they hadn't been in favor of the making of this baby, once he was out into the big, wide, world, he instantly had two loving, doting grandparents.



And my mother made it crystal clear that her grandson and his mother were going back to Hastings, where her daughter was going to finish high school.

About that, both parents were firm. The rest of the "plan", however, fascinated them as much as it fascinated Addie and me.

I don't think either of them had ever envisioned me as a veterinarian, which was what Aunt Maureen's intentions were. As an alum from the school of veterinary medicine at the university, she had pull and access to programs in that field. She was correct in her belief that she could not only get me into the university, but that, if I declared a major in Biology and then went on into the vet school, I could get scholarships to help me with that plan.



Of course it wasn't as easy as just that. I had to take all kinds of tests, to see if I was well suited for that course of study. I had to sign papers that, if I changed my major or failed to complete it, required me to pay back the money. I had to maintain a 3.0 grade point average in all courses that were required for the degree, and a 3.5 grade point average in all other courses.

And then there was vet school, which was another four years of unbelievable hard work.

Of course, as an eighteen year old who suddenly has the hope of fulfilling his dreams on multiple levels, I had no idea how hard the suggested course of action would be. I suppose that's why teenagers reach so hard for the stars. They do look like they're not all that far away.



I'll be completely honest. If I had known then what I know now, I doubt I'd have been brave enough to try it. But three things got me through my college education.

The first, but not the most important, was the concept that I would own the ranch one day. The second was that, through it all, Addison never doubted that I could do my part. Every time we saw each other, she reminded me that what I was doing was for us, and our family, and that she loved me for making the sacrifices I believed I was making.



By far the most important, though, was that each summer I got to spend on the ranch with Addison and Bernie, as we commonly called him. Bernard was named after our ancestor, who spent his life creating the Broken B Ranch. And those months, where I finally got to be with her again, and catch up on everything that had been done while I was off in Minnesota, were what kept me going.

Meanwhile, Addison graduated from high school in Hastings, and went to Tech to start a business degree. Two years later she moved to the ranch for good, and finished her degree online. Actually, she never actually graduated. Basically she took the courses needed to understand how to run the business and invest for the future and things like that. And since Aunt Maureen had never done any of this, it was quite helpful. The Broken B stock had always been sought after, and she had two stallions people would pay to have their mares put with. She had never been what she would call "rich" but when Addison started applying what she learned in school, the books began to look a lot better.



It is difficult for me to describe this stage in our lives. For one thing, I was gone eight months out of the year, and what I was doing took every ounce of concentration I owned to get through. In one sense, it was good I didn't have a family with me, because if I had, I'm not sure I could have pulled it off.

And I also have to admit that I didn't make it any easier on Addie. That's because every summer, and during the break every year between semesters, I went home to that feather bed, and tried to make up for all those nights I had to sleep alone.

And that didn't help because my sister never went on the pill.

And by the time I graduated as a doctor of veterinary medicine (with emphasis on large animals) I had visited two more children on the poor girl.



I don't know whether it was because everybody knew how hard I was working, or because they finally threw up their hands and gave up, but our parents, while they frowned about us having more babies, never flagged at accepting them into the family. They did draw aside, when Addie admitted to them she was pregnant for the second time, with Vanessa. Their question was, "We know the first time worked out ... but are you sure you want to go on this way?"

Our answer, though disapproved of, was accepted. What else could they do? Our children, who now consisted of Bernie, Vanessa, and Jordan, were spoiled rotten by their grandma and grandpa. Their other "Grandma", who they addressed as "Granny Maw", was over her fright about having babies around, and had become thoroughly embroiled in raising them.



But I want to make it crystal clear here that neither Addison nor I were happy while we were separated. Had we been normal people who got married and then did all this, we might have ended up in divorce. But we didn't think about it like that. She was my sister. She'd always be my sister, and nothing could ever change that. And it was the same for me. We couldn't get divorced. That word didn't even make sense when it came to our relationship. And I knew there could never be another woman for me, while she was convinced that no other man would ever lie in that bed, or any other, with her. And while that sounds like a positive thing, it only made the separation more painful for both of us.

So when I finally got back to the ranch, there was practically an orgy of relief and relaxation. Not that everything went smoothly.

When children are raised in a matriarchy, with a mother and two grandmothers doing the vast majority of all child rearing, the children can tend to view men as "those odd people who show up once in a while and say and do interesting things." They all obeyed their grandfather, for the most part, but it was the women who called the shots.



They knew who I was, of course. True, when I'd been gone for a semester, and suddenly came back, they were confused about things for a little while. But they knew who "Daddy" was. And they knew they had to do what Daddy told them to, but I'll be honest. That was because Mommy insisted they do what Daddy said.

And when I got back there permanently, and the whole dynamic changed, because I was finally fully integrated into both the running of the ranch, and being a full time father, there were some bumps in the road. But that only lasted six months or so. When daddy expanded chores into areas that were both more fun and more dangerous, he won the hearts and minds of the children. Mommy wasn't so happy about it at first, but she got over that too.

Over the next nine years, we had added another boy and girl to the family, and built a new house which was ten times more energy efficient and probably a hundred times cheaper to maintain. Maureen couldn't bear the thought of demolishing the old house and, while it wasn't efficient to cool and heat, it was structurally sound. So Addison came up with a business plan to renovate it and turn it into a bed and breakfast, to draw on the tourist trade. Tourism brings what are called "new dollars" into the system, meaning you aren't recycling something already there, and the micro economy involved draws in funds that would not otherwise be available. It's a little like prospecting for gold. You don't spend any more money doing that than you would just staying alive, and if you find gold, you get rich. You have nothing to lose except time and energy, both of which you would spend doing something anyway.



Of course renovating a hundred year old farmhouse does take both time and money, which has to come from the micro economy involved. It's a gamble as to whether that will pay off or not. And putting money back into the infrastructure had tax advantages, so even if it didn't work out, it could still be less than harmful. But Addison thought people might want to spend some time in Big Sky country on a horse ranch.

She was right, as it turned out.

People did want to spend time on a horse ranch. And it also turned out they loved Denise's cooking. Martha, the cook when Addie and I had first arrived, had, indeed, retired. Addison hadn't taken her place, though. Instead, her daughter-in-law had been invited to come learn the trade while her husband was overseas on a tour in Afghanistan. She had taken to it happily, needing something to do to keep her mind off of worrying about her husband. When Dennis got out of the Army and came home, he liked it there, hired on as a hand, and became our expert coyote hunter.



I won't say the B and B was too popular, but by the time Bernie was ten, it was booked solid two years in advance, and Maureen was complaining that it was taking too much of her time to administer.

That was when Mom announced she was taking early retirement from the university. She'd been complaining about not getting enough time with her grandchildren, and intended to visit much more often. While the kids had been down to Hastings for a few days every once in a while, that's hard to make work when what is basically a single mom is raising them, and working on a ranch at the same time.

So when she called and announced she'd have more time to spend at the ranch, she and Addison got to talking and the next thing I knew we had hired a new host and hostess for the B and B. Dad could do his job anywhere, and besides, he was thinking about retirement too.

And that's how it turned out that, some eleven years after Vlad Zharkov "destroyed" our lives and disappeared into the ether, we were all together as a family on the Broken B Ranch, raising the results of Vlad's criminal interference in the lives of two teenagers who fell in love with someone they weren't supposed to fall in love with.

You might wonder how the surrounding community viewed all this. Well, as it turns out, working as a ranch hand isn't for everybody. It's hard, dirty work, and there aren't regular hours. The time the horses need you the most is when the weather is the worst. Of course anything that threatens them, threatens you as you try to help them survive, whether it's getting them out of the way of flash floods, or helping them get through deep snow to feed, or driving them off the hilltops during a lightning storm. And even though horses can be very affectionate, when they don't want to be herded or caught, they are very capable of avoiding both.

So a lot of men who sign on for that kind of work don't last all that long before they decide they want to look for something a little more conventional.

Some stick around longer than others. Being invited into Aunt Maureen's bed can have that effect on a man, even if she's old enough to be his mother. She's trim and shapely and, as I said, apparently a tiger in bed.

But by the time I graduated from vet school and moved back home permanently, there wasn't a single hand left on the ranch who was there when Addie and I first arrived. The foreman was a man named Cody Burns, and he was quite possibly the only hand on the ranch who hadn't spent the night in Maureen's bedroom. That was because he was happily married with three kids, and lived in Tipper's Corner, the town twenty miles down the blacktop road from the ranch. He "knew" I was Addison's step brother, but had not been told the original cover story about our parents "accident." He had met them, in fact, before he met me. And while there were a few people in the area who might remember about the accident they'd been told of, all of them had also been told that, eventually, the parents would recover. My dad, in fact, had a limp. It wasn't from the fictitious accident, of course, but people who saw him later didn't know that. And by this time, everybody who had seen them had forgotten about all that anyway.

So when our mom and dad showed up to run the B and B, and live on the ranch in their retirement, nobody thought a thing about it.

There was one other thing we had to make a decision about. When the children were born, Addison left the names of the fathers as "unknown" for obvious reasons. At least to us. But that denied me any legal claim to having the right to provide for their care, or make medical decisions and things like that. Even though there were probably a couple of people around who suspected that her step-brother was responsible for Addison's pregnancies. Even if their suspicions were true, it wasn't illegal, but they could understand why we didn't feel like we could get married. Addison and I, of course knew we couldn't get married.

So Addison had papers drawn up making me the children's guardian, should anything happen to her, and granting me the authority to make decisions that required such authority in legal basis.



Of course their grandparents make decisions too, as they provide guidance to the children. I'm the only veterinarian within a hundred miles, now that Maureen is retired from that line of work, at least away from the ranch. So I'm often gone for hours at a time. And Addison is busy with her duties as CEO of the Broken B.

So it's not at all odd for Grandma or Grandpa to ride herd on the children, who range in age these days from Bernie, who is in his last year of attending the same high school his "Uncle Bob"went to, down to Annie Mae, who is four now.

And I suppose that's why, while I was helping Addison set the table for supper one night, Vanessa, who just turned sixteen, asked her grandmother the question, instead of asking her mother.

"Grandma? Now that I'm sixteen, and can drive, can I get an after school job so I can make some spending money?"

I think it scared the poor girl half to death when both her grandparents yelled "NO!" at exactly the same time.

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The End