My old man left us when I was still pretty young. I carry his last name, so I guess he and Mom were married. She waited tables in bars for most of the time she was alive, so she had her share of "sleep-overs." Their noisy sex usually woke me up at least once a night and, if the weather wasn't too bad, I'd grab the old sleeping bag and go sleep out on the porch. I was born in early 1969. My sister Vanessa was born toward the end of 1980. A little less than nine months after "Uncle" Louie left my mother, ending his extended visit. Before him, we went through a succession of "uncles" as well as houses and apartments. We stayed with relatives every so often, just long enough to wear out our welcome, but even had we not, Mom would have left after a while, preferring to live in our own place because she "had to have her privacy." More like, had to get laid as often as she could.

Around the time I turned nine, she "fell in love" with this pot-bellied, two-legged pig she had me call "Uncle" Louie. He wasn't much to look at, but after seeing him in the shower a few times, I understood her attraction. Anyway, "Uncle" Louie once told me that he never used rubbers with women. I had asked him if any of the women he'd been with had ever got pregnant. He said that a few had, but it wasn't his problem, it was theirs - they were the ones who spread their legs for him and chuckled nastily. I tried several times to warn Mom about him, but she was too "in love" and was sure "Uncle" Louie also loved her and didn't worry about it.

About the time I turned ten, they had a full blow-out. She screamed at him and he roared back, pretty much the same things he'd told me before. He told her that if she didn't like it, she could go get an abortion. She screamed back that she would. He left with several grocery bags full of clothes and shoes and various other things he'd accumulated here over the previous months. I didn't feel vindicated, I felt sorry for Mom. She'd taken a snake to her bed and got bit. How's that song go? "You knew what I was when you took me in, hissed the snake . . ." However, she didn't have an abortion, instead we moved to the small town my deceased grandparents were buried in and she took a part-time job until Vanessa was born.

Vanessa was a beautiful baby. That bastard couldn't do anything worthwhile, but he'd sure made a beautiful baby girl. Mom quickly lost most of the baby fat and found a better paying job fifteen miles away in the next county. The county we lived in was dry and the other county was wet, with bars that sold liquor by the drink. She got a part-time job at a liquor store which led to a waitress' job in a pretty nice tavern. She swore to me that there would be no man that would do her the way Louie had done her. Meanwhile, Vanessa burbled happily away at me.

Mom taught me how to change the baby's diapers and to feed her. The diaper changes were the hardest part. Man! She could raise a stink! I also did everything else that a nanny usually does and, after a couple of months of part-time baby-sitting, I became her after-school nanny because Mom went back to the working party life. I'd fallen in love with baby Vanessa almost on sight. Back then, it was mostly a mix of loving her cuteness and her baby softness. Even changing her diapers wasn't so bad and wiping her cute little butt and her wrinkled little vulva was a different experience. Her little cunt and butt-hole looked like the pictures I'd seen in Tommy's dad's dirty books, the shaved ones, I mean, it was totally hairless and far softer than I'd ever imagined it would be.

Our usual procedure was for me to come home from school and let Mom go off to work.. I couldn't take up any after-school sports because I had to come home and take charge of my little girl. There were a number of times that I'd get home and the only one there was Vanessa, playing with her toes in the middle of the bed. Mom had left for work early. So, Vanessa became, by default, my baby. I'd play with her, feed her, change her dirty diapers, bathe her and - generally - love her as if she was my own. She had what, I thought, was a cute little habit as she learned to crawl and toddle - she would rip off her diaper when it got wet. I'd laugh at her and grab her up, growling like a bear, while she shrieked with laughter and tried to get away. If she had crapped, I'd give her a bath before changing her. If she'd only pissed, I'd take a damp towel and wash her little crotch and rub some baby oil on her and rub it in. She'd lay quiet and, every once in a while, would roll her eyes and sigh. It didn't take long for me to realize that she was getting some kind of pleasure from my fondling of her crotch and butt-hole.

Remembering Tommy's magazines, I finally managed to locate her tiny little clittie, hidden between her fat little folds, and gave it an experimental little squeeze. To my surprise, she gasped and quivered, gurgling happily and squeezing her chubby baby thighs around my hand. She smiled up at me and babbled incomprehensibly. She was just a little more than one, then, maybe sixteen months old. I thought it was nice that she could feel that, so I did it regularly, at first, only when I changed her. Her little face would turn red and she'd coo happily, kicking her feet and waving her hands as if she was falling.

"Do you like that, Nessa?" I smiled down at her.

She nodded and babbled some more. I grinned down at her.

"Okay, just say "more" for me, hm-m?"

She came close, so I went back to twiddling her baby clittie. Her arms waved some more as I caressed it and ran my hand down over her sweet little softness. The small wrinkles on her fat little lips filled out and turned out a little as they became engorged. She whimpered and held her breath for a couple of seconds and, glancing down, I saw that her inner lips seemed to have curled out and gotten slick with her inner wetness. I hadn't thought that young little babies could do that. Her arms fell limply back - you know how babies do with their arms, outspread, bent at the elbows and palms up - as she closed her eyes and sighed. She lay as limp as a dishrag, so I kissed both sets of lips - between her legs and her face - and finished diapering her. Her mouth worked as if sucking a nipple and I rolled her onto her side. We always shared a room. It was easier if she slept with me because Mom didn't liked to be awakened by her crying. This time the place Mom rented was a two-bedroom wood-frame house, so after finishing my homework, I came back to bed.

Sometime around three in the morning, I heard some noise in the kitchen and someone giggling and saying "shush." As usual, Vanessa had gotten up in the night and climbed in bed with me, snuggling her warm little body against my chest. I rolled over her, careful not to waken her and gently opened the door to peek out. The door itself opened directly into the kitchen and I had a clear view of most of it. I couldn't see much, other than Mom bent forward over the kitchen table, giggling, her panties around her ankles as the man she'd brought home fucked her from behind. I closed the door quietly and set the back of a chair under the door-knob before going back to bed. I heard her cry out a couple of times before I heard the man groan and gasp as he unloaded inside her.

"Shit, woman, you got some good pussy," he growled.

"It's always ready," she giggled back, "I love it from behind, now be quiet, the bedroom's back there and I gotta piss."

I heard him stumbling towards the door and push heavily on it.

"Shit . . ."

"The other door, dumass!" I heard her loud whisper clearly from in my bed.

"Woops," he laughed coarsely.

He must have tripped as he got to the right door, because I heard a heavy thump and some loud cursing. She told him to be quiet again, that she didn't want him waking her son up.

"Well, that's nice," I thought, "don't even worry about my baby girl."

I realized that I didn't think it strange to be calling Vanessa "my baby girl." It just felt right. I snuggled her to me and tried to go back to sleep, in spite of the squeaking of bed springs from her bedroom.

That's the way it pretty much went for the next couple of years, Mom would sleep most of the day and go to work, I'd keep Vanessa and, when I got home, I'd change her dirty diapers which had usually gone unchanged while Mom slept off a hang-over. On her days off, she'd send me and Vanessa to the coin laundry to wash clothes and put up with the creeps who wanted to handle "the cute little girl." Saturdays and Sundays, we'd let Mom sleep it off and play in the back yards of wherever we happened to be living at the time. As Vanessa got into her independent threes and fours, she got more demanding of her pleasures.

Sometime before her third birthday, I'd begun finger-fucking her gently, I must have been fourteen at the time. She enjoyed that immensely. I drew blood once and she squealed as if I'd pinched her, but kept right on, not letting me stop until she'd cum - yes, I said cum - I had found out from various books on female biology that "orgasm" was the appropriate word, but a lot of the stories I'd read called it "cumming." Much later, I realized that the blood on my finger had been her maidenhead, her cherry. I had taken her cherry with my finger.

I'd been jacking off since my twelfth birthday, cumming without ejaculating anything. Evidently, I was a late bloomer, because I didn't ejaculate until close to my fifteenth birthday. It surprised me when I did, but, again, I'd read of "men's cum cream," so it wasn't strange. However, several months after Vanessa's fourth birthday, she was being particularly demanding. I remembered that I'd gotten her cherry a year or so ago and with her bugging me, I hadn't done myself any good. Mom was off at work and I was getting exasperated at Vanessa's demands.

"Okay," I fussed, "you want me to play with you, well, I haven't played with myself yet, so .. ."

I undressed her, pulling her pink panties down and off along with her socks and shoes, then I yanked her dress off over her head.

"Ow!" she fussed.

"Well? Do you or don't you want to?" I demanded.

"I do," she whined, "but you don't gotta be so mean."

I ignored her complaint and picked her up, settling her bare butt on my arm, walked to the bed and dropped her on it. She giggled and slid over to give me room. I closed and locked the door and stripped as I came back to bed. Her eyes went wide then fastened on my turgid little cock. She'd felt it before, I'd let her watch a few times as I jacked off, but now, naked, she got a full view of it. It wasn't all that big, as cocks go, I still hadn't gotten my full growth, but as hard as it was, it probably looked big to her. I took her chin and kissed her tender little lips gently.

"Now, we're going to do it my way," I ran my hand over her soft little pussy.

She glanced down at my hand working on her pudgy hairless lips then at my stiffly waving cock and, pulling her fingers out of her mouth, reached for it. I moved up enough for her to get a soft grip on it and lay back. I was trembling, delighted at her touch as she slowly imitated the movements she'd seen me doing many times before.

"That's the way, Nessa, real nice," I whispered, "how's it feel?"

She looked up at me and smiled.

"Nice," she continued smiling as she caressed it up and down.

She felt what I later learned was my pre-cum, seeping out of my piss-hole and smiled up at me.

"Pee?" she looked at me questioningly.

"No," I sighed, "milk?" I suggested.

She wrinkled her nose and bent her head to it without any urging on my part, and licked it gently.

"Nice," she giggled.

"This," I touched my cock, "is going in there instead of my finger."

She thought about it for a minute, then tried to pull it to her crotch.

"Wait," I chuckled, "you gotta lie back, so I can get over you and put it in."

"Oh," she giggled, "do it good, Cy," she giggled in her high little-girl voice, "do it good."

"I will, Honey," I settled her back and spreading her pudgy baby thighs.

Vanessa looked down at my hanging cock as I knelt between her short legs.

"Look at me, Honey," I lay my cock-head at her tiny portal, "look up at me."

"Huh?" she looked up into my eyes.

"I love you, Honey," I whispered, bending to kiss her soft lips.

She kissed me back, her lips slightly open as I pushed into her. She got a surprised look on her face as I gently slid my cock into her, but she didn't cry out. She seemed more surprised at the feel and pressure of my cock sliding into her than shocked or pained. I was in seventh heaven. She was so tight and slick. It felt more wonderful than I could have imagined, no wonder Mom loved it so much.

Vanessa's eyes glazed over, her tiny hands up and almost touching my sides in surprise, her eyes looked at me without not seeing me as she felt me filling her tight, tiny little vagina. She seemed to be examining my hard cock with all the feelings in her tiny hole. I didn't know what I was doing, this was my very first time in a female pussy - and a tiny pussy at that. I just did what came instinctively and felt good. I pushed in and slid out, gently, wonderingly. It felt so good, but I could only get it in a little way. Like I said, looking back on it, I wasn't all that big, three to four inches when I was hard, but she was still a baby, just four years old, so I couldn't get it all the way in. She closed her eyes finally and whimpered, drooling from the corners of her mouth. I reached down and wiped it off and she opened her eyes, staring intently into mine. Suddenly, her lips curved up and she smiled.

"Good, Cy," she whispered, "good-good," she slid her hands up my sides and gripped my ribs tightly.

"Sh-h, sh-h," I whispered.

She nodded half-closing her eyes as I continued to push in and out of her. She grunted and stiffened, pushing her hips up with her heels, then dropped back and whimpered. She stiffened and grunted, her pussy getting a slicker as I realized she had cum. The idea made me shudder and I lowered myself onto her, hugging her tightly to me. Her little arms pulled me to her, wrapping them as far as she could around me. As my chest pressed into her face, she turned her head to the side, her little legs coming up and hooking on my hips.

"Good, Cy," she whispered again.

"Yes-s-s," I hissed, "yes, it's so good."

"Um-hm," she nodded.

"Oh," she cried out quietly, "oh, Cy."

"Yes, Honey," I pushed into her, trying to press myself all the way into her.

"Ooh, Cy," she shuddered again and lay quivering as I suddenly blew what I had into her tight little pussy.

"Ooh, Cy," she sighed letting me go, "Cy . . . Cy . . . oh, Cy."

"Um-m-m," I groaned, pressing an elbow onto the mattress, taking my weight off her, "God, that was good."

"Uh huh," she whimpered, "good, Cy," she sighed again, "weel, weel good."

My dirty mind worked as I pulled out, remembering some pictures of a woman and man after they'd finished and how she had licked him clean.

"Now you get to lick the cream off, Honey," I rolled onto my back and pulled her to me.

"What cream," she looked a little confused.

"Well, I told you before about the cream, you licked it off, remember?"

"Oh," she grinned, "kay," she squirmed around, grabbed my slowly softening cock, and licked it clean.

---

Some years later, I would feel that, when I told her to lick me off, I'd set the precedent for the rest of our lives. A real good precedent. I had to caution her about not getting funny around Mom, but she was already in the habit, with me, of keeping things to ourselves, so it wasn't that much harder on her. That day, Vanessa and I got that much tighter. She refused to sit in anybody's lap but mine. As for me, I made sure that she got fed, bathed and got her dressed for pre-school. As she grew, I get her ready for grade school. Mom seemed glad to be rid of any motherly duties. I graduated from high school at seventeen when Vanessa was six - and a very demanding lover.

There were a few of times when I thought that our secret would be discovered. One time was after Vanessa had turned six, I'd gotten home from my part-time job and she jumped into my arms, she was a very horny little girl. Mom came walking into the kitchen, looking for some coffee, still pretty hung-over, so if she saw Vanessa's tongue in my mouth, she probably chalked it up to all the booze she'd had the night before. I set Vanessa back on her feet and poured Mom a cup of coffee. She nodded her thanks and looked blearily at us both. I suggested that she needed to shower and she nodded and hung her head again. I gave Vanessa a warning look and she, turning her back to Mom, stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes at me. I grinned at her and grabbed her pony-tail, pulling her past the open pantry door. There, I picked her up and gave her mouth a good tonguing. She giggled and wriggled out of my arms, caressing my face with her soft little hands as she got down.

"Done your homework, yet?"

"Oh, Cyrus," she'd taken to calling me by my full first name, trying to affect being older than she was.

"Don't, "oh, Cyrus" me," I warned, go to my room and start, I'll be in, in a few minutes and help you, okay?"

"Okay, Cy," she gave deep dramatic sigh and giggled as I winked at her.

She turned and tried to walk gracefully to my room, but I swatted her cute little ass and she shrieked and giggled, running out of my reach.

"You two sound like father and daughter," Mom mumbled, slurping her coffee.

"Not like you had a big hand in her raising," I snapped.

"I gave birth to her!" she snarled back.

"You gave birth to me, too," I answered quietly and turned to the bathroom.

"Don't give me any lip, boy, I'll kick your ass out into the street without a second thought!" she shrieked back.

I just sighed, I'd been talking to the Army Recruiter and the only reason I didn't enlist was because of Vanessa. He had given me some food for thought, though, I'd told him that I was taking care of my baby sister, since my mother was a drunk, and he'd said that when I made it through my Basic and Advanced Training, and if I was the only person caring for my little sister, then I could probably have her as my dependent and get separate family quarters. I could take care of her that way. The only problem I could see was leaving her for those five to eight months while I took my training. I didn't want to leave her with Mom. God only knew what would happen if I did, because there'd been a few times when she was passed out drunk that one of her frequent "guests" had tried to get his hands on her. Had I not been there, she'd have been raped several times. No, I had to find another way.

I was muddling through my shift at the K-Mart, I was a Swing Manager working my way up the ladder of success - yeah, right - when I got to talking to one of our new hires, Robbie Smith. He mentioned that he was in the National Guard. I questioned him a little more and he told me that he'd been able to split his training into monthly training assignments. He said that the way they had set him up, he'd been able to break up his training into four one-month breaks. The only thing he'd had to do all at once was his Basic Training, that had to be in one shot, he said, but since The Guard needed a lot of linemen and telephone experts in the Signal Corps, he'd gotten most of it in his unit and three months split into monthly increments at Fort Gordon. He said that he could convert to active duty if he wanted to - or if he screwed up, he added with a laugh. That was exciting, so I got all of the information I could from him, including phone numbers. He said that I could go with him the following weekend since that was a drill weekend. I grinned and thanked him, I'd be there.

"Great," he laughed, "if you sign up and use me as a reference, I'll get a little bonus, it's up to two-hundred dollars for me and, I believe, fifteen-hundred for you. After training and six months in the unit, that is."

"Shit, I'll give The Guard fifteen-hundred if they take me," I laughed.

He laughed with me. He was working this job part-time until he got on permanently with the phone company, it was one of the good things about this training, the "Baby Bells" snapped them up as soon as they came out of training. The position he was holding out for was over-staffed at present, so he was waiting. He didn't want to hire on for someplace he didn't want. I agreed, that was my problem.

When I got home, Mom had already left, so I dressed my little girl in overall shorts with a short sleeved tee shirt, pink flip-flops on her bare feet - she had pretty little feet - with a blue ribbon holding her hair back and took her to Mickey Dee's for hamburgers and shakes. She was pretty upset at first, when I told her my plans, but I told her I'd try to get the Basic Training during the summer and she could stay with Grandma until I got back. She thought about it for a bit as she sucked down her milkshake. God, she was a beautiful little girl. I'd spent almost thirty minutes brushing out her silky brown hair. It was almost waist-length and beautiful, like a waterfall of glossy silk strands, cascading down her back. I caught an older man staring at her and, as I shifted forward, he raised his eyes to mine and turned away in embarrassment as I glared at him. She wiped her hands on a napkin and when it didn't get all the ketchup and mustard off, licked her fingers. She had a cute little pink tongue and the way she licked them, had my cock trying to fight it's way out of my pants.

She wiped her hands again, put them in her lap, slumped down a little and looked at me, her eyes shining as she smiled.

"Don't slouch," I prodded.

She stuck her tongue out at me and straightened up. I grinned and leaned over to her ear.

"If we weren't in such a public a place, I'd bite that cute little tongue off."

She giggled and covered her mouth.

"I'd bite sompin else," she whispered around a hand.

I laughed, "wanna go to a movie?"

"Yeah!" she perked up, "how 'bout the new Star Wars movie?"

"You mean The Empire Strikes Back?" our tastes ran to similar things.

"Yeah! That's gotta be a good one!" she hopped up and down in her seat.

The old man got up and left. I felt my pocket to make sure my Buck Knife was readily available, I'd already had to threaten one of Mom's overnight "guests" with it and it was also getting dark. I checked my watch, it was almost too late, but what the hell, she could sit on my lap and snooze if she got tired.

"The Matinee is long gone, but if we hurry, I think we can make the next show."

Vanessa had the tray in her hands and heading for the trash can by the time I could get up.

"Vanessa!" I called sternly.

She stopped and looked around, then back at me. She was well aware of the attraction she had for some men - especially me.

"Okay," she waited for me.

---

It was a pretty good movie, Luke Skywalker didn't look a day older than when he was in the original Star Wars and I stuffed Vanessa with popcorn and root beer. She started yawning when Luke went to meet Yoda, but snapped back when Han Solo was captured and put in the stasis block. She about broke my thighs during the fight scenes between Luke and Darth Vader as she bounced, trying to help Luke Skywalker. Vanessa couldn't finish her popcorn so she carried it home. Mom's beat-up old Mercury was in the driveway as we pulled in. My old car wasn't in much better condition, but I had hopes.

"Where've you two been?" she demanded angrily as we walked in.

"At the movies," I fired back defensively, "what happened," I managed to bring myself under control, "did you get fired again?"

"Yes, I got fired again," she hissed.

Personally, if it hadn't been for Vanessa, I'd have long moved out of the house.

"You -" I had started to say that she ought to sleep with the bosses more if she wanted to keep her jobs, but I bit my tongue and held it back.

"You want a beer?" I asked instead reaching in the fridge for a couple of them.

"Go get ready for bed," I told Vanessa as I reached for the bottle opener.

"But, I . . ." she started.

"No buts, go," I handed Mom a beer and pulled out a chair, "I'm gonna talk to Mom for a little bit and I'll come tuck you in, now go."

Mom took a long swallow as I took a quick sip.

"I swear, you just might as well be her father," she looked at Vanessa's retreating back as she belched quietly.

I shrugged and leaned forward, stretching my legs out under the table. Might just as well tell her straight out, I thought.

"I'm gonna join the National Guard, Mom."

She just nodded leaning into her beer, thinking quietly. The beer seemed to have calmed her jitters. She must have just gotten home, I thought, still a six-pack in the fridge. Otherwise, she'd have probably drank it all already.

"Cy, are you two still sleeping together?" she whispered softly.

I nodded, "she needs something to hang onto at night and I don't trust some of your boyfriends not to go into her bedroom after you've passed out," I finished without rancor.

"What do . . . "she looked at me sharply.

I shrugged again.

"There've been several times when one or another tried to get in the door. One of them made it, not too long ago when I came out to use the bathroom," I sipped again, I needed to set up Vanessa's leaving for the summer, "I got to my Buck Knife and thought I'd have to cut him up to get him to leave."

"I didn't . . ."

"Yeah, I didn't want to embarrass you any."

"Oh, God," she moaned.

"She's okay, just still a little gun-shy . . . scared, really, around strange men."

Mom hung her head.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Cy."

I wrapped my hands around my beer bottle and hunched my shoulders over them.

"This summer or next, I'll be taking basic training and I'll be gone for eight to ten weeks, what do you think of letting Vanessa go to Grandma's for summer vacation about then?"

"Um, I, I, I, uh, I don't . . ."

"I'll clear it with Grandma, she's a hard-ass old bitch, but I can talk to her. How about it?"

She looked at me thoughtfully, looked around the kitchen as if really looking at the place for the first time, then looked back at me, tears welling up in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks.

"You have grown into such a good man," she whispered, "how did I miss that?"

She was going maudlin on me, so I pushed her again. She could feel sorry for herself anytime she wanted, I just wanted to make sure that she wouldn't interfere and try to get Vanessa back while I was gone.

"Mom? Mom! What about Vanessa staying with Gramma?" I patted the table gently with the palm of my hand.

She nodded and I handed her a dish towel to blow her nose on.

"Okay," she whined, "I'll be okay. She can go stay with Gramma.

I thanked her and got her another beer before heading to the bathroom to clean up and get ready for bed. Vanessa was already under the covers, huddled under the blankets and peeking out from under them. I closed and locked the door, setting the chair under the doorknob, more out of habit than need. Just as I started to climb under the covers, I heard Mom's car start up. I peered out between the curtains to watch her drive off.

"Did Mom leave?" Vanessa whispered sounding sad.

"Yeah," I grunted and slipped under the covers.

Vanessa welcomed me into bed, wrapping her little arms around me and yawning wide. She was nude and pressed her little body tightly to me, her arms around my neck. She was worn out. I hugged her to me as she smiled sleepily back at me. I sighed and kicked my shorts off, getting as naked as my baby girl.

Mom finally came stumbling home at three-thirty, according to my bed side clock. I thought she was alone until I heard a man's rumbling chuckle. I looked to make sure the chair was securely under the doorknob and drifted back to sleep, my baby girl's warm little body snuggled safely in my arms.

---

I got one of the last few slots for Basic Training that same summer. My reporting date was the middle of July. Which meant that I wouldn't be home until the middle of September. That was my most pressing time of the year and my main concern was getting Vanessa into school.

Grandma had grudgingly agreed to keep Vanessa for me. The problem with Vanessa was that she had been born out of wedlock and Grandma hadn't cared for that. It wasn't Vanessa's fault, though, it was Mom's fault, but Vanessa was still the innocent recipient of that dislike. I trusted her, though, and I was right about what might happen at home.

While I was in Basic Training, Mom brought some guy home, one night. He hog-tied her and kept her tied up for several days, repeatedly raping her and beating her between bouts of rape. He whipped her with the buckle end of his belt until her beautiful fair skin hung off her her back and legs in ribbons before. The guy had gotten his jollies and left her severely beaten and near death. She would have died if one of her drinking and partying girl-friends hadn't discovered her. They'd had a date for the weekend to go bar-hopping and see how lucky they could get and when she didn't show, she'd come looking for her. Mom was hospitalized for several months while she healed. Grandma kept the news from me, wanting me to complete my Training and "better myself."

"Besides," she'd fussed when I angrily confronted her about it, "if she lived or died, it was too late to do anything about it."

But she was my mother, slutty and seemingly uncaring for her brood, she was still my mother and had half-ass raised me. So I loved her very much. I made it through Basic Training with a couple of commendations and, with that in my personnel folder, got a promotion to SP4 once I got back to my National Guard unit - but that's jumping a little ahead.

I got off the airplane and walked through the terminal to the reception desk. The Permanent Administrative NCO from my unit was supposed to meet me and drive me back to the unit to muster out of active duty and back to National Guard duty. There I'd turn in my paperwork and get released to go home. I spotted my reception committee and checked my watch. Before I could get a good look at my watch, a speeding little body hurtled into me and squealed my name in a loud, ear-piercing shriek as a small pair of slender little arms wrapped tightly around my waist from behind.

"Nessa!" I cried out happily.

"CY-RUS-S!" she squealed again, hopping up and down, happy to see me again.

I dropped my duffle bag - threw it aside, actually - and grabbed my baby girl by the waist and lifted her high before pulling her into my arms.

"Cyrus!" she sobbed, big tears rolling down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms tightly around my neck.

"Honey! Baby Girl," I moaned.

"I missed you so much," she burbled, tears streaming down her rosy, dimpled cheeks.

"Oh, Honey, I missed you, too," happy tears streamed down my face.

She buried her face in my neck and hung on tight. Grandma came trotting up all out of breath. The PA NCO National Guardsman stood alongside, a silly grin on his face as he watched.

"Welcome back, Private Russell," he grinned.

"I figured if I gave that girl her head, she'd find you," Grandma smiled, the frown creases on her face almost breaking under her big smile.

"Thanks Sargeant Miller," I handed my paperwork to him and turned to Grandma.

"I appreciate everything you've done, Grandma," I smiled and gave her a hug.

Grandma acted a little flustered, quite out of character for her. She was usually very unflappable. I hadn't yet heard about Mom's beating.

"Private Russell, if you have a ride, I'll just take the paperwork and you can go home. Just report in tomorrow first thing."

I looked at Grandma. She nodded and forced a smile.

"Thanks, Sarge, I'll just do that."

I still had Vanessa in my arms because she wouldn't let go. She turned her head to watch Sgt Miller, resting it on the crook of my neck.

"Your little girl seems anxious to get you home," Sgt Miller smiled again.

"Oh, she's not . . ." I looked into Vanessa's eyes, "yeah, my little girl," I grinned at her and shook her gently.

Vanessa smiled into my eyes and gave me a chaste little kiss on the cheek, her eyes beaming with mischievous delight.

"His baby sister," Grandma explained, "he's raised her since he was ten. Might just as well be his daughter."

"Close enough," I thought, "close enough."

I extracted a hand and stretched it out to Sgt Miller.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sarge," I grinned my thanks as he shook my hand.

"I'll be on duty at zero-seven-hundred," he nodded, "oh, and it's not a drill week-end so if you want to bring your little sister to check the place out . . . Well, see you then," he turned and waved over his shoulder as he walked off.

I grabbed my duffle bag and we walked out to Grandma's car where Vanessa finally let go so I could set her down. However, she clung to my hand as if I was about to disappear. I realized that Grandma had gotten over Vanessa's "defect" by the way she looked at her. Vanessa was full of news, she had started school there in Grandma's little town and all the other kids were pretty nice to her. I looked at Grandma when Vanessa told me that.

"It's your mother," she shook her head, "have you had anything other than Army food, dear?"

"No," I shook my head, "we had hamburgers every once in a while, but they can't beat a Whopper," I wondered what Mom had done now.

"How about a hamburger, Honey," Grandma smiled at Vanessa.

"Huh?" she turned from me to Grandma.

"The way she acts, it's no wonder Sgt. Miller thought you were her real Daddy," Grandma laughed.

"She's always been my baby girl," I smiled at my baby girl, "how about a burger, Honey?"

"Yeah," her face went red, "sounds good."

We pulled into the MacDonald's parking lot as Grandma began telling me about Mom still in the hospital healing from the severe beating. I knew I should feel bad or something, but I couldn't. I loved Mom as my mother and I still remembered her as a little boy, but she'd long since pretty much ruined that relationship. Vanessa pressed tightly against me, holding onto my arm and resting her head against my shoulder. I'd never cared for Mom's lifestyle, but I'd never dreamed anything like this could ever happen. If I'd been there, maybe the sonuvabitch wouldn't have done anything to her.

"If you and Vanessa had been there, he probably would have killed all three of you," Grandma said as if reading my mind, "he's wanted in Vermont for the beating murder of a family of four and in New Hampshire for the beating murder of three women," she patted my hand, "your mother was lucky . . . I guess."

"Yeah, I guess," I sighed.

"We'll go visit her after we eat," Grandma got us inside, my mind still numb and reeling.

I ate automatically, Vanessa eating with one hand and hanging onto my arm with the other.

"She really might as well be your daughter," Grandma sighed, "at least she's got you to look after her."

I came around then and pulled Vanessa into my arms. She buried her face in my neck and wept softly with me. I lay my head on hers and pulled her onto my lap, the tears pushing through tightly squeezed eyelids, rocking her as we cried. Rebecca was still my mother and I did love her very much.

---

The bastard that had beaten her had been taken into custody and Vermont was first in line to try him on murder charges. If convicted, he'd serve his sentence, then be turned over to New Hampshire. If, by some miracle, he escaped conviction in Vermont, then he'd go directly to New Hampshire for trial. After he served any time in New Hampshire, our state would have a turn. By the time Mom got out of the hospital, I'd moved us to a better neighborhood in town. Six months or so later, I got a job with our local Baby Bell and was pulling down a pretty good paycheck.

I came home from work one day, and Vanessa was busily frying some eggs. She was a pretty good egg chef for an eight year old. She carried two plates to the table and sat beside me wordlessly, her hands in her lap and her head hanging.

"What's the matter, Honey?" I asked as I salted my eggs.

"Cy?" she looked up, her eyes brimming.

My heart sank. I already knew what she was about to tell me. I'd gotten Mom a new car, well, used but in good condition, the best that I could afford, and it hadn't been in the driveway when I got home.

"She's gone, isn't she?" I laid my knife and fork down.

Vanessa nodded miserably.

"She asked if we were sleeping together and I told her yeah, that I loved you, and . . . and. . . well, she got this weird look on her face and sat for a while leaning on the table and put her face in her hands for a long time," Vanessa hung her head looking as pitiful as wet puppy, "then she got up and said that she had to go get a beer. Cy, we got a 12-pack in the fridge and why would she pack all her clothes, too? Huh, Cy? Did she leave us?"

I pulled her onto my lap and hugged her.

"I shouldn't have said that about us, huh, Cy?" she twisted in my lap to take my face in both her small hands, looking into my eyes, trying to read whether or not she'd done wrong, "I love you, Cy," she whispered gently.

"You did right, Honey," I hugged her, "I love you, very much. Maybe I've never said it, but I do."

I kissed her gently and began I crying again. It was the second time in my adult life that I'd cried.

"I'll find out where she's staying when she settles in," I pressed Vanessa tightly to me, "she's gone, but she's not lost or dead."

That night I found out how wrong I could be. I made Vanessa gurgle happily on the end of my cock several times, making sweet love with her. The she joyfully cleaned my cock off, happily slurping up and down my soft shaft, leaving it and my balls glistening with her spit. It was the first time that we hadn't had to be quiet because of Mom and we fell asleep like an old married couple afterward. But, then, I guess you could say that, since we'd been together all of her life, we were an old married couple.

---

The banging on the front door finally awakened me. Mom had her keys, they were on her key-ring, why would she be banging on the door? Besides, she usually came in through the kitchen. I got up, threw on a pair of shorts and grabbed my .38 Special, holding it behind my back. There were two police offers standing outside the front door when I looked out.

"Yes," I kept the gun behind my back.

"Is this the home of Rebecca Russell?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you are . . . ?"

"Cyrus Russell, her son."

"Well, Mr. Russell . . ." his partner noticed my hidden hand.

"What are you holding behind your back, sir," his hand unsnapped his holster.

I brought the gun out, pointing it away and opened the cylinder, setting it on a nearby coffee table.

"May we come in?"

"Of course," I backed up, "what's this about?"

"Well, sir," the first officer spoke as the second emptied my gun's cylinder, "it's about your mother, ah, sir, she's been involved in an accident -"

"Is she alright!" I gasped already knowing the answer.

"I'm afraid she's deceased, sir."

I gasped and the second officer grabbed me as I slumped, helping me to the couch. He settled me in, dropping my bullets in a clean ash tray by it, Vanessa kept a spotlessly clean house.

"We believe that -"

Vanessa came running in, out of breath, her flannel nightgown flapping in the breeze. Lord knows where it had been, because she rarely dressed for bed, usually sleeping nude with me.

"My baby sister," I answered their unspoken question.

The second officer sighed and took his hat off, running his fingers through his hair helplessly.

"This is so darn hard," the first officer whispered, his head lowered, then raised his head and spoke a little louder, "sir, uhm, we believe alcohol may have been a contributing factor."

"Yes. I don't doubt that it was," I nodded, pulling Vanessa to me as she stared at the police officers, "she'd been off the stuff for almost a year, I thought she might have kicked it, but . . ."

"Sir, are you over eighteen," the second officer asked, "otherwise . . ."

"I'm twenty," I looked up, "you don't have to call CPS for us."

He nodded. We understood each other.

"Would you like to see my ID?" I was crying again.

"No-no," the first officer held up his hands as if warding off an attack, "that won't be necessary, I can see that you're old enough."

"I am very sorry, sir, but . . ." the second officer looked truly apologetic, "but, uh, we'll need you to come identify the body in the morning."

I nodded, looking up as Vanessa cradled my face in her soft hands. The officer handed me a business card.

"The place and address where you need to go are on the card. Just come anytime within the next forty-eight hours. The sooner you ID her the sooner she'll be released to you, okay?"

I nodded, Vanessa's head pressed against mine. They excused themselves and left us to our crying.

"Shit, I hate doing this." the second officer shook his head as he pulled the door shut behind them.

"Shut up and secure your weapon," the first officer snapped as the door closed behind them.

---

A couple of years after we buried Mom, Vanessa, eleven then, suddenly began cramping. She was in deep pain, so I kept her out of school and called out of work, using up a family sick day to stay with her. She screamed for me several times and I was ready to bundle her up and take her to the Emergency Room, but she wanted to go the bathroom first, the cramping pains had eased a little. I helped her to the commode and knelt beside her as she cried out and let go. I heard a splash and she leaned back in relief.

"It come outta my Sweet Hole," she gasped.

I didn't get it. Her Sweet Hole was what we called her pussy. I had to see what she was talking about, so I pulled her to me and peered into the commode. It was pink and looked like a tiny, deformed dolphin. I gaped at the bloody cord still hanging out of her.

"A miscarriage?!" I gasped, "but she's not . . . not - is she?!"

She cried out again a few minutes later, her belly rippling, as the other end of the cord plopped out. The placenta had delivered. Snapping out of my dither, I grabbed a towel, scooped the mess into it, then I took a blanket and bundled up Vanessa in it and, grabbing both bundles, ran out to my pick-up. I was surprised that there were no cops on the road to stop me, as I raced her to the hospital. The ER Doctor had several gunshot victims to take care of and gave Vanessa a quick once over, examining her for further bleeding and told a nurse to give her some painkiller, take charge of the miscarriage and send us home. The nurse was more gentle, telling me that I needed to keep the boys away. Young girls like Vanessa didn't need that kind of attention, she added as she injected Vanessa with some painkiller and gave us a prescription for more pain medicine. She suggested that I take her to our doctor and get her on birth control as soon as possible. She asked about a funeral home for the lost child and I gave her the name of the funeral home that had handled Mom's funeral. The hospital Chaplain came around and asked about a name for the unfortunate soul. I couldn't think, so I just gave him the first boy's name I could think of.

"Edward James Russell," I sighed.

"Are you Christian?"

I nodded and the Chaplain turned to the fetus and pulled out his stole, kissing it and draping it around his shoulders then pulled out a short tube of what he told me were the ashes of blessed palms. I nodded again.

"In the name of Jesus Christ, I baptize you Edward James Russell," he bent over my son and prayed, his tears falling on him.

I was crying, too. I cried because I was torn. I'd gotten my baby girl pregnant, I'd lost a son and wondered if I'd also almost lost the love of my life. I loved Vanessa so very much. My mind reeled, I didn't know what to do nor what to think.

"Rest in peace, child," the Chaplain stood back and turned to me, wiping his tears, "and you, go get some rest," he patted my upper arm as he walked away.

Edward James Russell, my son. My baby sister's child. Eddy Jim had never breathed fresh air. I re-wrapped him in the towel and knelt by him, sobbing and praying. He was the innocent, I was the dirty one. A long while later, I lifted my head and saw two orderlies standing quietly by a Gurney.

"Yes?" my eyes were blurry with tears.

"We, uh, we come for the body," the speaker hung his head, "we gotta have it -"

"Him!" I interrupted.

"Beg pardon?"

"Him," I sniffled, "his name is Edward James Russell . . . Eddy Jim."

"Yes, sir. We need to take the young Mr. Russell," his voice was sarcastic, "to the morgue."

The other orderly gave him a dirty look and stepped forward.

"I'll take Eddy Jim, sir," the orderly lifted him gently cradling him as if he were the most precious thing in the world and carried him away.

I found Vanessa and dropped to my knees by her.

"I love you, Honey," I wept, "and I never want you to go through anything like this again."

She opened her eyes blearily and smiled, trying to push herself up to sit.

"I love you, too, Cy," she finally managed, "it was a boy, wasn't it?"

I just nodded.

"The doctor said we could leave anytime you feel up to it, are you feeling better?"

"Uh, huh," she nodded, "the nurse gave me a shot for pain and said that I'd feel better soon. I'm feeling pretty good now. Let's go home."

The nurse brought a wheel-chair and I lifted her onto it pushing her toward the door. The nurse took the wheelchair away from me and wheeled her to the door.

---

I didn't touch Vanessa sexually for several days. A week later, I took the nurse's advice and made an appointment with her doctor for the next day. It was a quick examination.

"Yep, she's started her menstrual cycles," he peered into her vagina, "she ain't a virgin," he gently slipped her panties back up her legs, "damn, I'm sorry, Mr. Russell. Damn kids, they always start too young," then he read the form we'd filled with her medical history and, looking up at me, shook his head again and sighed, "they just start too damn young."

His nurse helped Vanessa down and walked her out to the anteroom. Telling her that she had a film for her to watch. The nurse looked at me questioningly. I nodded and they walked out together, Vanessa asking what kind of film it was. The doctor wrote out a quick prescription, saying that when she'd healed a little more, I could bring her in again. He said that she looked like a good candidate for some IUD's currently on the market, or he could give her a monthly preventative birth control injection. I nodded gratefully. Everybody assumed that it was kids playing around. I hadn't told him of her miscarriage, but he read it in her medical profile.

On the way home I pulled in to our drugstore and Vanessa, saying that she was feeling better, came in with me. She had stretched out, this last year and the top of her head was half-way up my arm. I hung an arm around her neck, but she pulled my arm off gently, sliding her hand down to mine, then letting it slip away as we approached the prescription drop-off. She'd spotted something down one of the aisles. After talking to the cashier, I turned and saw that Vanessa had something hidden in her hand under her wallet. She passed it to me guardedly, I glanced down at a box of condoms. I looked at her and she looked up at me with a anxious eyes. I frowned for a second and, without questioning, threw them in the basket of other stuff she'd handed me.

"Okay, Honey," I bent and kissed her head, "okay."

Her radiant smile beamed up at me as she smiled happily. That was my baby girl. My beautiful baby girl. My beautiful horny baby girl.

"Wanna get a burger?" I smiled, "the lady said your prescription will be ready in an hour."

She nodded, "McDonald's."

"McDonald's, McDonald's, McDonald's," I mimicked her high voice, "don't you know anything but McDonald's?"

"Mickey Dee's?" she teased.

We both laughed. I was happy. Vanessa wasn't gone. Her miscarriage had scared me so bad that I could still taste the fear in my mouth.

"I gotta have some tonight," she smiled as she bit into her hamburger, "it's felt good just lying there with you, but I gotta have some."

I laughed and she punched me on the shoulder. She sounded like her old self, so much like a woman that I could hardly believe this was my baby girl. We finished our meal and walked out hand in hand. I waved at a passing phone company truck.

"CYRUS!" the driver yelled back and waved, I just smiled.

The truck came up beside us as I was helping Vanessa up into my pick-up. It was Robbie, one of my colleagues.

"Hey, boy," he grinned at me and smiled at Vanessa.

"Pull your horns in, son," I grinned back, "she's only eleven."

"Whoops! That your little sister?"

"Yup," I leaned against his door.

"Well, give her my phone number so she can call me when she's eighteen," he was still smiling at her.

I looked at Vanessa. She was laughing herself silly.

"You ain't her type," I grinned, "playboy."

We traded G-rated insults for a few minutes as he got out. I told him we had to go and he shook my hand and waved at Vanessa, as he went into the McDonald's, then we picked up her prescription and went home. I had never really paid much attention to her looks, but examining her small breasts as we showered, I could see that they were fuller, growing bigger and more defined. She was getting a lot more pleasure from my handling them than she used to. They were getting more sensitive and more pleasurable to her.

"Oh, God, Cy," she gasped as I kissed and suckled them.

Her breasts were so perfect, so firmly wonderful. I cut off the water and sat on the tub's rim, pulling her to me.

"I've missed you," I whispered suckling her small tits.

She immediately caught my meaning.

"I've missed you, too, Cy," she sighed happily, "I've missed you lots and lots . . . and lots and lots."

"Um-m," I hummed around her stiff little nipple.

"I've missed your dick in me, it's such a wonderful feeling going in and out of me," she moaned.

My cock was already stiff and hard and Vanessa reached down to it, pulling on it and caressing it gently. I smiled into her eyes, they were slightly glazed. I knew that look well. I ran my hands along her little pussy, fingering it, sliding my fingers between her soft folds as I pressed a finger into her. She jerked her hips into my hand reflexively and gasped, shuddering as she came immediately.

"Oh, Cy!"

"My baby girl," I groaned pressing my face to her little breasts.

"Let's go to bed, Cy," she whispered huskily, "I'll get a rubber on you and we can fuck real good okay? Huh, Cy?"

"Did you learn about them at the doctor's office?"

"Yeah," she stepped out and grabbed a towel, "the movie showed lots of other stuff, too, but we can talk about it later," she dropped the towel and grabbed my hand, "let's go, I ain't had any in over a week."

"Hey, you're not the only one, Honey," I laughed at her eagerness.

She giggled and gave me a quick, very naughty grin and grabbed my cock, taking me in tow as she dragged me to our bedroom.

"Hey!" I protested, "I'm coming, already!"

She laughed with me, still not letting go until I grabbed her hand, pulled her back into my arms and lifted her off her feet.

"Horny little witch," I gently bit her ribs, tickling and sending her into squirming fits of laughter.

"Don't, Cy," she gasped, trying to push my head away.

I evaded her defensive hands and nibbled again, tickling her, making her break out into a squealing burst of laughter.

"No, Cy-ee-EE," her squealing laugh about busted my ear drums as I dropped her on the bed, "no, no more, Cy, please," she laughingly gasped, "no more," still chortling as she stretched her skinny little arms out to me.

I locked the bedroom door and slid a chair under the doorknob. I really didn't have to worry about that anymore, but it was one of my lingering habits and I couldn't sleep if I didn't do that. Turning to her, I did my growling bear imitation, pulling another fit of giggles from Vanessa. I loved to hear her laughing happily . . . and she was happy once more. My ferocious assault on her, turned to gentle caressing kisses all over her naked little body.

"I love you, Cy," she whispered as I buried my face in her fuzzy little slit.

In less than a minute, I had her crying out quietly as she came on my tongue, giving me a few little squirts of her sweetness. I loved her flavor and taste. I kissed her sweetly slick pussy lips once more and crawled up beside her, reaching into the night stand for one of the little square packages. Vanessa quickly sat up.

"Oh! Let me do it, Cy," she begged, "I wanna practice."

I put the partially open little package into her outstretched hand and she eagerly ripped it open.

"Ooh," she cooed, as she felt the cool lubricated bit of latex.

"Here, like this," I guided her hands, turning the condom over so it would unroll onto my cock.

"Whoa, that's a nice trick," she grinned, "I was about to stretch it out and slide it on like a sock."

"Yeah, that's what most guys seem to want to do," and we chuckled, "you just gotta leave that little pocket at the top empty."

"What's it for?" she asked, idly stroking my cock.

"Well, duh-h, it's to catch the sperm. You know, the stuff that, that . . ." I stopped, unsure of how to continue.

"Yeah," she sighed, "the stuff that made me pregnant."

She lowered herself beside me still caressing my cock.

"I was thinking that we could have some kids, you know, after I graduate high school? Could we?"

"Me and you?" I shrugged and thought about it, "maybe -"

We were only half related anyway. We were about as closely related as cousins. I felt her mouth on my covered cock, but I was too slow to stop her.

"Ew-w-w," Vanessa's head popped up as she wiped her mouth. Sticking her tongue out, she wiped it with the back of her hand.

"Well, dummy," I laughed, "it's got slickum and spermicides on it. It won't poison you, though, it just tastes awful."

She gave me a dirty look and nodded.

"Come here, Baby Girl," I pulled her to me and pushed her legs apart, "I'll get that awful taste out of your mouth."

I sent my tongue searching through her sweet mouth as I pulled her under me. Her thighs slid up my hips as she hooked her heels under my buttocks, gasping pleasurably as I pressed my hard cock between her fat little lips and deep into her slickly wet and ready hole.

"Cy," she moaned, "my Cy," she pressed her mouth against the side of my chest, nipping and mouthing my lower pectoral.

I could only groan. She felt so good, her vaginal muscles encircled me and squeezed me so tight.

"That's my Baby Girl," I crooned, "I love you, Honey," I slowly stroked in and out of her.

"Cy," she moaned, "oh, Cy. I love you so much."

Her small hands roamed up and down my back, scratching and digging her fingernails in me, pulling on my back muscles.

"You're so good," she moaned, "God, Cy," she gasped and tightened, holding her breath for a few seconds as she came.

I remained my usual taciturn self, the only sounds I made were grunts of lust as I plunged into her gripping pussy over and over. She cried out again, babbling wordlessly, cumming again and again - I wasn't far behind.

"Oh, Baby," I gasped, my eyes fluttering, "Oh! Oh, God!" I gasped unloading everything I had deep inside her.

The condom caught my heavy load as I thrust into her, holding tight as I came. I backed out and shoved into her again, firing another load. Once again I blasted into her, then again. God she felt so good. She lay back, caressing my back and kissing my chest and lower neck, letting me finish, letting me expend my pent-up energy into her yielding softness.

"Oh-h-h, yes-s," I whispered.

"Was I good, Cy," she whispered, nibbling my neck, "you was wonderful for me."

"Um-m hm-m," I breathed, "you're my wonderful Baby Girl," I relaxed on her as she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me tightly to her.

"Yep," she agreed, "I am. And you're my true love, my Cyrus."

I was quiet for a couple of heartbeats, realizing that she was, and always would be, the love of my life.

"Yep."

----

This part of the story ends here. I'd like to say that we lived happily ever after, but as anybody who's raised at least one teenager will agree, we went through some hassles. We made it through those turbulent years, but that's a story for another time. Through it all, however, there was no thought of going our separate ways. Like the Reverend Billy Graham's wife once said when was asked if she'd ever thought of divorce, "no, never . . .murder maybe, but never divorce." Vanessa and I were like that, never a thought of splitting up, although there were a few times for both of us that one or the other thought of murder.

We survived my training trips to California and the National Training Center. She agonized over the possibility of my being sent to the sand box and combat, but when my last enlistment ended, I didn't re-enlist and instead took a transfer to Bell South, moving us to Birmingham as man and wife. By then she was eighteen and I was almost thirty. However, in order for her to get covered by my insurance and to have any widow's benefits - she thought I was being morbid at that idea - we were officially married with no one the wiser.

I kept her on her IUD until she was nineteen. She wanted to have a baby and nagged me until I agreed. Since Gramma had passed on, we had very little other family anywhere so there was nobody to really be bothered by it. Just after she turned twenty we had a beautiful baby boy. Vanessa wanted to name him after the only man in her life, Cyrus Carmen Russell, Junior, but I refused. I had no desire to have him called Junior for the rest of his natural life, so we settled on James Cyrus Russell and called him Jim for short. Several years later we presented Jim with a sister, Sarah Vanessa Russell. Neither child had any malformations nor any bad hereditary traits, they were just beautiful babies.

Except for the fact that we've been together all of Vanessa's life, our lives have been pretty ordinary. Once we were officially man and wife, she became more assertive and take-charge. I liked that. She wasn't my meek submissive little girl any more. Come to that, she really never had been, but now she was truly my other half.

As I write this, five year old Sarah sits in my lap, acting just like her mother, very opinionated and bossy. Jim is almost nine and very protective of his little sister. To avoid what Vanessa and I did, and because they're so closely related, we do have separate bedrooms for them and watch them fairly closely. Maybe we're too sensitive about it and maybe we're too protective, but it's hard not to separate them that much. They're sharp little guys and I'm always marveling at their intelligence and gusto for life. At least, they're not starting out like Vanessa and I did. I hope that the kids aren't too shocked when they read this as adults - read that their father and their mother were half-sister and half-brother. That they're that closely related.