My sister was a slut; there was never any doubt about that.

It was like she hit puberty running. There was no stopping that girl. Maybe things would've been different if Mom had still been around. Though, er ... um, scratch that thought. Dad did the best he knew how. He got her a box of tampons, then took her to the doctor for a round plastic box of circular pills.

Maybe at some point the old man should've bought me a box of rubbers, but that wasn't the way it was back then. If you had a female pet, you got her spayed so you didn't have to deal with the litters. But if you had a dog named Rex, and he happened to go down the road to hook up with the Smith's unaltered Lady, well, then, that was their fucking problem, wasn't it?

Mom wouldn't have been any help because, well, she was the one who drove Dad to drinking. Not that he was ever a teetotaler, but in the months before she left he took to drinking like a life-calling. She wouldn't have been any help because, well, she hardly set any sort of good example. She was never particularly nurturing--she thought television and cartoons were a parental godsend. All I really remember of my mother was that she was forever burning an early dinner so she could go out to her various "meetings"--quilting bees and Tupperware parties that brought her home with her clothes inside out just in time to slam the cereal boxes on the kitchen table before we had to leave to catch the school bus.

It was really no surprise when she ran off with a door-to-door encyclopedia salesman. As far as I'm concerned, you really don't need any sort of textbook to decipher that equation. Loser + Loser = Good Riddance! Maybe Dad didn't feel the same way, but by then he had a new liquid lover anyway.

I quit having my friends spend the night because I got sick of waking up in the middle of the night to the slurpy sounds. In the beginning it was just Eve sucking them off, but fast enough the slurpy sounds involved something other than saliva. I got tired of washing the spare sleeping bags. My friends kept pestering me about spending the night--I just said no.

Eventually even Eve asked, "Adam, how come you never have your friends spend the night anymore?"

"Oh, I dunno. I guess 'cause I've become too popular. All the guys want to be my friend and sleep over. Because everyone knows that means they'll get to bone my sister the slut."

Eve tossed her hair and walked away down the hall to her room. "Oh, grow up--whatever."

Why we were named Adam and Eve was beyond me. Though I was fairly--and rather frustratingly--innocent, my younger sister was anything but. If some snake had tempted her with an apple, she'd've kicked the fruit aside, grabbed the fucker, doubled him up and used him as a dildo. Though in a twisted way it does make sense. After Cain kills Abel, you've basically got one cunt and two cocks in all the world. Yet flip a few pages of Genesis and you've got tribes of humanity all over the place. My sister would go a long way to explaining all that procreative shit.

With the lack of my sleepover companions, well, she took her love to town. Or at least spread it around the neighborhood. I became known as the brother of that girl. It was ridiculous. Midway through her sophomore year, Dad had to pull her from school, set her up on a GED track. It wasn't like she was actually learning anything in school, other than maybe some new positions--braced against the urinal. She spent all her time banging boys in the bathrooms, broom closets and boys' locker room. The school could hardly expel her. When she got called into the principal's office, she wound up back-down on his desk, dress up and panties down. Maybe he could've sensed an opportunity for career advancement, but when the assistant principal happened to barge in on the proceedings, he opted for sloppy seconds instead.

Not being in school just gave Eve even more opportunities. Day or night, to say she slipped out kind of implied she was in the house more than she wasn't, which she wasn't. Until the day when my drunken dad got out his power tools deciding to curb his parental embarrassment by turning the whole goddamn house into a prison.

That should've put a total damper on my sister's extracurricular activities. Indeed, for a week or two, she did go around in a sulk. Not that I saw her much as she stayed holed up in her room. But then her mood lifted. She still wasn't around much. I figured she was spending her days and nights down in the cellar or something, tunneling her way out.

Then one night I heard her whispering in the kitchen, so I snuck up to the doorway. I couldn't actually see her, but since it was dark outside I could see her reflected in the window, on the phone, with her hand cupped over the receiver.

"He's almost passed out. Wait another twenty minutes, then meet me in the garage."

I just rolled my eyes. Sure sounded like some boy in the neighborhood was gonna get lucky tonight. I wondered who. No, I didn't. I didn't care. It wasn't like there was a single guy left in the neighborhood who hadn't already gotten lucky with Eve at least once. Well, yours truly excepted. Not that I wouldn't have minded--Evie was that hot. Hell, I could've just closed my eyes and pretended it wasn't my sister. Or shit, kept my eyes open and just enjoyed the sight, finally getting some of what everyone else was always getting.

I thought about fucking with her, that is, messing up her plans. Wait about twenty-five minutes, then go wake up the old man. "Dad! Dad! I think that old raccoon's gotten in the garage again. There's a helluva lot of banging going on out there."

About the only thing that pissed him off more than his daughter being such a goddamn slut was that fucking raccoon getting in the garage and tearing through the garbage cans. That news'd get him from dead drunk asleep to shot-gun mad in two seconds flat!

But then I got a better idea. I stepped into the kitchen. Eve just about had a heart attack trying to pretend she hadn't been on the phone.

"Adam! Damn, scared me to death. Thought you were Dad." Then she narrowed her eyes. "What do you want, anyway?!!"

I stared straight back at her eyes, then dropped my gaze and stared straight at her tits. Back up to her shocked-looking eyes. Then I laughed and turned to the fridge. "A soda," I said. "That's what I want. Was getting a little thirsty." With my back to her, I asked back, "What do you want, anyway?" Then I made a loud double sniffing sound. "Stupid question. I know what you want. I can smell it."

I could hear the steam pouring out her ears. I reached in the fridge and grabbed a can of soda. I decided to throw her off track of my plans. "But too bad, you ain't gonna get it. Not tonight. Dad's got the house locked up tight and the keys are in the safe. So guess it's gonna be a stinky-finger kind of night for you."

"Shhh!!! God, Adam, you are such a pervert!" she hissed.

I turned around, popped the top, and took a slow drink. "Really? I'm the pervert? But you're the one banging every three-legged critter in town."

I could tell she wanted to scream and shriek and throw shit at me. But all that she just conveyed with her eyes. I could tell she wanted to storm out of the kitchen, stomp down the hall, and slam her bedroom door behind her. She did indeed move from the kitchen, down the hall and into her room, but she did it without making a sound. Didn't want to wake up dear old Dad, now did she?!!

I waited a minute, walked down the hall myself, not quite so noiselessly, but still quietly enough. I didn't want the old bastard to wake up either. Spoil my fun. I went in my room, turned on the lights, bumped around a bit, then shut my door with an audible click. But when I shut my door, I was back out in the hall. The way I came back down the hall to the kitchen made her little charade of silence sound like a stampede of elephants. Boys can be quiet and devious, too!

Once in the kitchen, I turned the knob to pop the lock for the door into the garage. Like most good drunks, my Dad had gotten tired along the way of carrying out his good intentions. There were key locks on every goddamn window in the house. The front and back doors had those double-keyed dead-bolts. In the case of a house fire, we would've all died. Except he forgot about the door from the kitchen into the garage. Sure, to open the actual garage door would've required the rumbling sound of the devil. But the little side door from the garage out onto the walkway just had a little pop-lock too.

Eve, to her credit, had never drawn attention to that breach in the family fortress. Maybe she'd realized her fuckable credentials would have been diminished if she was always all sooty from crawling up the chimney to make her escapes.

I didn't care about any of that. I clicked the button to leave the door locked behind me. I'd thought about grabbing a flashlight, but though the door was solid it wasn't exactly security--it had a four-paned window that let in enough light I didn't bang my shins too bad as I moved around the garage. There wasn't much in there except Dad's big fucking pick-up truck. Its back gate was down, because he was one of those stupid fucking assholes who believed that somehow that action would increase his gas mileage. Want more per gallon, get a goddamn Honda. It's not like he really had any use for a truck. The only time the bed of the truck was actually used were the nights he stayed too late at the bar with his buddies and wound up needing a place to stretch out and sleep it off. And for that purpose the only load he carried around in the bed was a skanky old mattress, gone stanky with mildew from all the times he'd slept under the stars. When the only stars were behind his eyelids 'cause it was pissing down rain and he was too stuporous to do much about it except shift around in discomfort.

I moved to the back of the garage, where I crouched down in front of the truck to wait. It wasn't about five minutes before Eve came in from the kitchen, closing the door behind her. There was a tiny bit of light coming in through the windows, but not enough to see much of anything too distinct. My sister immediately moved like a ghost shadow to the little side door. Even though I poked my head around, I couldn't see enough to identify the guy who swooped fast inside. It hardly mattered. Less to Eve, really, than even me.

There were some fast slurpy kissy sounds, and then right away that of zippers going down and fabric sliding off skin. The back of the truck gave a little groan as they moved onto the nasty mattress. Then that other slurpy sound started up. Gradually I straightened up. Through the windshield and the window in the back of the cab I had a pretty perfect view, except it was so goddamned dark all I could really see was my sister's legs pointing straight up in the air while a ghostly shadow moved up and down above her. My sensation was strictly aural, but that was enough to get me aroused. By the grunting and groaning, the pair of them were getting close to something I'd only read about in the letters sections of dirty magazines. The few times I'd ever gotten lucky had been fairly fast and quiet affairs. But my sister and her secret lover sounded like wild animals, like animals gone wild.

And suddenly I had no idea what my initial plan had been all about. What was I going to do next? What had I imagined was going to happen next? I had no clue. And I didn't really care. I undid the front of my pants, got myself free, and started jacking off. It was so much more exciting than being in my bedroom and pretending some girl at school who didn't even know my name had somehow decided to take off all her clothes for me.

Everything was going so great, for all of us, but then the door from the kitchen slammed open, the overhead flicked on, and Dad was swaying in the doorway shouting, "What the hell is going on out here?!!"

I quickly ducked down, just enough to not be seen, but not enough I didn't see what happened next. The dude shot out from between my sister's legs and landed on his feet about ten feet away, as though jolted by an electric shock. It was easily the funniest thing I'd ever seen. With my Dad advancing upon him, I imagined his cock wanted to shrivel up inside his body in self-defense, but he'd been so close to the edge that it stayed straight out--kind of small, I was surprised to see. And like a death woody, it just pumped its final load. Sperm spewed all over the concrete floor.

Dad roared derisive. "If you're gonna shoot me, better pack something better than a squirt gun!"

The kid managed to grab his pants, then was gone out the door into the night.

Then the old drunk turned to his slut daughter, yanking her out of the bed of the truck. "Goddamn you," she had the bravery to protest, "I was nearly finished."

"I'll finish your ass," he shouted, dragging her squealing and screaming inside. I could her the vast slaps as he started spanking the shit out of her bare ass. The weird thing was that after awhile it started sounding like she was liking it.

Finally I moved out of my hiding position, moving around to the back of the truck. My cock was still out of my pants and sticking straight out. I saw a little flower on the floor and bent to pick it up. The little yellow bloom was my sister's discarded panties. I held them up to my face and smelled the full flush of ready pussy. I kept them to my nose, but switched the bunching of them to my left hand. And then with my main hand I continued jacking off like crazy, out of my mind, just knowing that with all the jism on the garage floor another big load wouldn't be noticed.

Thus spent, I stood there gasping. I tucked my cock back in my pants, then stuck my sister's panties in my pocket. I was the responsible one, turning off the garage light, locking up the door, then moving through the rest of the house and shifting it to night. As I went down the hall to my bedroom, I could hear my sister sobbing lightly in hers while my father was snoring loudly in his.

I went into my room, dropped my clothes by the side of the bed, clambered under the covers, then turned off my reading lamp. I lay there in the dark, then thought what the hell. I reached down for the crusty hand towel I kept under my bed, and pulled the little bulge out of my pants pocket. I lay there in the dark, sniffing my sister's panties and stroking my cock. Maybe I hadn't really had a very well thought out plan that night--a plan was supposed to go from point A to point B, and I'd never really thought about what B was supposed to be. But in the end, there was the result of lying there in the dark, smelling and actually tasting pussy juice while having a tremendous jack-off session. Maybe I was a bit of a perv, but it wasn't like I was thinking detailed dirty thoughts about Eve. It was a much more primitive thing, the exciting aroma adding to the raw sensations. Little time was required before I was pumping out another big load of come. I lay there gasping and panting, and then I nearly drifted off to sleep before remembering to stash the nasty towel under the bed, and balling the panties back into a pocket of my rumpled pants.

I started to come up with another plan, but then I guess I fell asleep.

I slept late, nearly noon, waking only because of the sounds of power tools and cussing. I grabbed a quick shower, and by the time I came into the kitchen I could see the handiwork of the old man's overkill. Not only was the knob replaced with a double keyed one, he'd also installed the gleaming hardware sporting a padlock. The door itself was brand new, with no windows. I gave it a little rap. I laughed to myself, worrying about a housefire all the less. The door was a hollow core--I could kick my way through the fucker in like thirty seconds.

It was too late for breakfast so I made a big sandwich. I needed to tank up for the couple hours of lawn mowing ahead of me. I hated the chore, but I liked the money, when my Dad actually got around to paying me. As well, I liked to keep on his good side, and a raggedy looking lawn was just the type of thing to piss him off.

I ate in the quiet, alone. I could hear the water running; I figured he was taking a shower in the master bath. That struck me as a little odd. Maybe his home improvements had made him so sweaty that even he realized he was getting a bit ripe. That his odds of getting a Saturday night score might be improved with a little soap and water. But still, all that was so many hours away.

Eve, I knew, wouldn't leave her room until the old man was out of the house. However long that took. No doubt she had a cache of snacks in there.

I was ready to get to work, but was stymied by the new door. I sat and waited and eventually Dad came into the kitchen, clean and reeking of aftershave, whistling a little, wearing what he no doubt thought of as his handsome man clothes. He mussed my hair in passing. Then he attended to the door into the garage. "Don't know if you heard the ruckus last night," he chuckled, "but that situation is now under control."

Standing up, I just shrugged. "I was up late listening to music with my headphones."

I started to follow him into the garage. He stopped and blocked me. "What do you think you're doing?"

"It's Saturday afternoon, and the grass needs cutting." I sort of ducked my head, and appealed to his Y-chromosome. "There's this girl I'd like to ask out, but first, you know, I gotta make some money."

He seemed to consider this, but then shooed me back inside. "I understand, but I have to go to work right now." I was back in the kitchen, feeling like a dope, when I saw him comprehend the conundrum of his labors. "Um," he said, "do me a favor, and snap the padlock behind me."

"Why? The deadbolt needs a key. And whatever, I'm locked inside on a nice day, and then you'll just come home and be mad because the grass is all long."

Finally he figured things out. "Okay," he said. We went in the garage together and he pulled up the big door. He backed the truck down the drive while I rolled out the lawnmower and then fetched the can of gas. Dad went back inside, locked up the garage, and eventually came out the front door.

"Okay," he smiled, "do a good job!" He moved to the truck. "I'll bring home some dinner after work. Burgers sound good? You've always liked burgers."

Burgers were fine by me, but I wasn't thinking that far ahead. Dad got in his truck and rolled down the window after I knocked on it. "But I'm locked out of the house. What if I have to take a piss?"

"Son, that's why God invented bushes."

"But what if I have to take a dump?"

He was clearly getting exasperated. "Go to a friend's house, or do it like a dog--I don't care."

Before I could ask another question, the truck was backed down the drive to the road and he was roaring off to work.

I went and filled the lawnmower with gas. Though it wasn't a terribly hot day the humidity was up. Knowing it would be hours before I could grab a shower, or even a clean shirt, I decided to strip to my waist for the job, leaving my tee on the front porch. The front yard was quick work, but the back yard was long and deep and seemed to take forever. At one point I noticed Eve looking out her bedroom window at me. I thought about waving, or flipping her the bird, but the way she just stood there so pale behind the reflecting glass, she looked like a ghost. A shudder went up my spine and I ignored her. I'd heard her crying the night before, though maybe that'd been the ghost Eve after my father had murdered her and laid her corpse in her bed. Though then why would he have put in the new door to the garage? Unless he was a crazy drunk out of his fucking mind?

I decided I didn't want to think about any stuff like that. It was creeping me out. Despite how hot and sweaty I was getting, I was breaking out in chills and goose bumps and shivers running up my goddamn spine.

Finally I finished the lawn. I took some long drinks from the hose, then used it to splash off my head and torso. I lay in the hammock to dry. I must have snoozed for about twenty minutes. Then I didn't know what to do. I wheeled the mower back to the front of the garage and retrieved my shirt. It was a beautiful day, and I was free. I walked over to a couple friends' houses, and on the third I scored and found the gang.

Craig had a backboard mounted on his garage, so I joined them in shooting some hoops. Craig also had a really cute smiling Mom, who brought us out a tray of lemonade. So we played some more Horse while fantasizing about mounting his Mom. Without saying anything about it, because, well, it was his mother.