Corey pushed the lawnmower over a bump as she rounded the corner of the yard nearest the sidewalk. I held my laundry basket as I stood in the driveway, not conscious of the fact that my mouth was slightly open and my eyes were glazed over. As she pushed the heavy mower up the light grade of the lawn, the muscles of her shoulders and arms rippled under her glistening skin. Her long brown hair was pulled back loosely and strands of it were sticking to her face. She wore a tight fitting blue tank top and a snug pair of bell bottomed jeans with red and yellow embroidery around the cuffs. No shoes. She turned and started pushing towards me. Her well-curved hips swayed behind the mower. My god I wanted her.

She paused for a moment as she reached the edge of the driveway, tilting her head back and wiping the sweat from her neck with her hand. It seemed like she moved in slow motion, her fingertips sliding down the hot skin of her neck, salty little droplets of moisture trailing under them. The little fly-aways of hair blew softly in the light breeze and reflected the noon sun, creating a halo around her head. I watched a single drop of sweat trail down her chest, disappearing into her tank top and between her hidden breasts. I was so mesmerized that I didn't hear Jay, her brother, saying my name.

I turned my head to face him, feeling sluggish like I just woke up. "Huh?" I said.

"Is that all of your shit?" Jay asked, carefully pronouncing each word as if I English was my second language. I wondered how many times he asked me before I finally noticed. More importantly, I also wondered if he'd caught me gaping at his sister, which was becoming more and more frequent the longer I was here.

With the spell soundly broken, I resumed unloading the laundry and groceries from my rusty truck. As we walked into their house I cast what I thought was a subtle glance at Corey's ass. My eyes lingered a little too long and she looked over her shoulder. I turned quickly, my face flushed and suddenly hot. I let out a long breath. Jay was my best friend growing up and his little sister Corey was always around and usually a pest. She was seventeen now and things had... changed. It was hard reconciling the image of his pesky little tomboy sister with the curvaceous bellbottomed goddess sweating in the front yard. I tried not to be obvious about my lust but I think Jay was catching on. In some ways August wasn't going to come fast enough for me, I thought.

Later on, Jay and I were in the rec. room slumped into the well worn, overstuffed recliners and watching one of his taped episodes of G-String Divas. At eighteen, Jay's obsession with strippers was charming but now that we were twenty-one, and he blew a minimum-wager's fortune every month on glittering flesh at titty bars in five states, it was becoming a matter for concern. His knowledge of strippers and their habits was encyclopedic and he devoured any new info he could about them. Just as Miss Bunny was making her entrance onto the screen, tossing around a feather boa, Corey came in from the garage. She was sweaty and the skin on her freckled shoulders was pink. Her bare feet were peppered with green speckles from the lawn and her dark blue tank top was damp between her breasts. She paused for a moment and we made eye contact. Just as she started to smile a little, she turned slightly and saw Miss Bunny grinding her supple bottom against the brass pole. Corey scowled.

"Jesus, Jay!" Her face went from smile to scream in a heartbeat. She jabbed a dirty finger towards the screen. "What the hell?"

Jay, taking the beer bottle from his mouth, looked at her between his bare feet, elevated on the lazy boy. "What?" He said, the portrait of a dumb jock in repose.

"I just got done mowing the fucking lawn again! And you're in here, sitting on your widening ass, watching more porn!" Her face was growing as red as her shoulders. I was gaping, not at her outburst but at her heaving chest. She continued her rant, "Mom and Dad aren't coming back for another month and a half and I'm not going to mow the lawn every fucking weekend, especially if you and your dickhead friends are hanging around here jerking off. We were s'posed to spilt the work! Remember?"

My god she was hot. That's why it took a few moments to sink in that "dickhead friends" might include me. I frowned a little and then looked at Corey, bemused.

"What?" Jay said again. It was as if someone had hit the cosmic rewind button and the last moments were about to replay.

Corey looked over at me suddenly. I wasn't prepared and my eyes hesitated for a moment before they moved from her breasts to her eyes. Busted.

She made a noise that was part growl, part screech and then stomped out of the room. We heard the word "assholes" shouted loudly and punctuated with a slammed door that sounded like a shotgun, making us jump. I could track Corey's progress through the house by the heavy footfalls going down the hallway, up the stairs and into the bathroom overhead. Water started running.

Jay looked at me and then just chuckled. He threw back another swallow of his Rolling Rock and resumed watching the parade of flesh on the television.

There went my chance, I thought. I caught myself. What chance? It dawned on me, at that moment, I was seriously contemplating banging Jay Morris's little sister. In high school, that alone was enough to get the crap judiciously beaten out of you behind the gym. Jay and I were adults now and I would assume that he wouldn't throttle the snot out of me with maximum prejudice but, still, what the hell was I thinking? My head was starting to throb a little, and I mean the big one between my ears that's supposed to be in charge.

The videotape continued playing, Miss Bunny fizzed and popped out with static and a tastefully lit softcore movie revealed itself. A lithe brunette with gravity defying breasts was naked and writhing on top of an over-muscled guy. Her hand was conveniently in the way of showing anyone's genitals. "Their hips are totally in the wrong places for them to actually be screwing," Jay sagely pointed out before belching wetly.

I wanted to get Corey out of my head and this seemed an opportune conversation for distraction. It was especially necessary since I could hear the shower running, and with it rained down images of Corey under the showerhead washing the sweat and dirt from her soft, curving form.

"Dude, I still don't get why you watch this shit." I threw the first punch, "I mean why not just rent a real porn?"

Jay wiped the beer from his lips and narrowed his eyes. "Man, this shit's way classier than porn. Sure, you don't see real, up-close blow jobs but at least you won't accidentally see another man's anus as big as a grapefruit on the screen because the cameraman can't find the right hole. Besides this crap is better made and more believable than hardcore porn"

This was an old argument between us, which I was more than happy to resurrect as the perfect tonic to my runaway lust. It would take no time at all to get my thoughts away from Corey caressing her heavy breasts under the hot, pulsing spray. "Come on, it's the same unbelievable crap," I countered, "just with a prettier package and slightly better acting. It's still shit that won't happen to you."

"Maybe not to me, but some of this stuff could happen"

"Don't think so."

"This guy is banging his buddy's sister behind his friend's back," he threw out his finger toward me then swept right to encompass the screen, while internally I jumped out of my skin. "It could happen right in this fucking house."

"Yeah, right," I blurted out, maybe too quickly.

"I know it wouldn't, but I'm just saying hypothetically it could."

"Whatever." I tried to sound cool. The banter continued back and forth for a few more minutes. So far I wasn't having any luck exorcising her from my head.

The couple on TV were still going at it. The girl had her hand in her hair, tossing it around as she bounced up and down, and moaned. Just then the door burst open and the girl's big brother stormed in. The action stopped and the girl snatched up the muscle guy's shirt to cover her breasts. "I might have known," The brother sneered as only softcore and soap opera actors can. I was riveted to the screen at this point, and my heart skipped a beat just as static washed over the screen and receded to reveal an episode of X-Files.

"What the hell? So what happened to the guy and the chick?" I exclaimed before catching myself. My eyes quickly shifted over to Jay then, and I was somehow certain that I had been caught.

Jay regarded me without a discernable expression. The gears were turning. My spine was prickly ice. That's it, I thought, he saw me staring at her ass earlier, then at her tits a few minutes ago and now this. He's occasionally slow but he's not stupid. The moment of silence seemed to last for about five minutes. "Dude, you are so busted," he said with heavy consequence, through a mouth full of cheese puffs.

My mouth dropped open. It was senior year of high school, right after lunch, and I was watching Ricky Davis being held in a headlock by Jay. He'd made a particularly off-color remark about Corey's newly blossoming, but not yet impressive, breasts. She wasn't attractive in an adult sort of way, like she is now, but all of Jay's friends secretly noticed the scrawny girl's progress. Jay did his best to divert our attention.

"You were paying attention to the plot! Admit it!" Orange poof particles shot out of Jay's mouth as he bounced up and down victoriously, looking like a chimp. "I knew it! You were into it! You wouldn't have cared if it happened in a hardcore flick! BOOYEAH!"

I smiled with relief and reddened cheeks. After that reprieve, I thought, let him think he won the argument. I vowed to keep the vivid erotic fantasies about Corey out of my head from now on. That lasted all of two minutes. Now that there wasn't T & A on the screen, Jay was getting chatty. He was gibbering on about some party at his dorm when I noticed the regular pattering rhythm of the shower change as the pulsing massage head was turned on. My mind began wandering again. I tried to tell myself that it was just her taking a shower and not standing there, wet and glistening, letting the concentrated stream of water blast between her spread legs, beating soft and warm on her swollen clit. I shifted in my chair, trying to focus on Jay's story. My thoughts quickly trailed back upstairs as the water seemed to tap a quicker rhythm on the floor of the shower. I wanted to be there, kneeling under her, catching the runoff with my tongue while watching her face contort and her body quiver.

A few minutes later the shower stopped running and I could hear the drain gurgling. The hair dryer came on a moment later. I could see Corey in my head, wearing nothing but a towel, lazily blow drying her hair with a contented, orgasm-induced smile on her face. As I sat there watching the credits roll on X-Files, Jay was still talking animatedly about the same party. His well-worn co-ed naked lacrosse shirt was covered in cheese puff particles and smudges. I looked ahead, my eyes focused beyond the walls.

The afternoon rolled on and gave way to evening, though not without preventative masturbation and a cold shower to clear my brain. Dinner was tacos and microwave burritos, but fresh from a semester of ramen noodles and peanut butter this was Thanksgiving in the summer. I could've gone to my mom's instead, and eaten like this all of the time but, since she moved across the state, visiting her would have meant not seeing my friends. Jay and Corey's parents were good enough to go on a lingering southwest vacation for half of the summer and offered me a place to crash until they got back. Mom could wait until August while I had some fun now. Besides, the daily dose of Corey's swaying hips gave me more than enough validation for my decision.

She made the tacos and we actually had a nice time talking, despite the occasional sisterly remark on Jay's inability "to get off his ass and do anything." It was easy to see that they got along much better than they used to, when Jay used to pull her hair and Corey would fight back with an unusually strong right jab and a deadly knee. Still, even with their current relationship, she gave him no quarter when it came to his laziness and lack of ambition. Like their mother, she was good at it. Despite his occasional brilliance in school and pornographic memory, Jay was too slow to keep up with little sister. She could run intellectual circles around him and she knew it.

Corey looked straight at me, with her blue sky eyes, as she sucked salsa off the tip of her forefinger. I know I was staring a little too long again. For an instant, it seemed as if she did that for my benefit, but I chalked it up to wishful thinking and continued munching chips and drinking my enormous margarita. The margaritas were her idea. She wanted a theme dinner and Mexican was the cheapest. I had to laugh inwardly at her eagerness to do this for us. It seemed like a little kid thing to do. The margaritas were in huge plastic tumblers instead of glasses and the mixture leaned a little heavy in favor of the triple sec rather than tequila but it was a good effort for a newbee.

We ate and talked more, gathered around the serving island in the middle of the kitchen. My stool seemed wobbly, but it may have been the margaritas. It struck me that Jay and I were twenty-one and about to be college juniors and that Corey had just graduated from high school a few days before and was heading for Penn State in the fall. I remembered sitting around this table with Jay, between rounds of Mike Tyson's Punch-Out, drinking green kool-aide and telling Corey to bug off. Adulthood was getting creepy the whole way around. Corey being a bombshell wasn't helping either.