"Come on, let's have a quick one and get the fuck out of here," Sandy heard Brad's voice drifting down the hall into her room as she shinnied into her bikini.

Sandy was excited again as she imagined the two lovers together in the family room. She wondered what "a quick one" meant in Brad's sexual dictionary.

Creeping down the hall on bare feet, the inquisitive little blonde spied on the lovers in the family room. A wave of disappointment broke over Sandy as she saw that Brad had been talking about booze, not sex. The couple was seated at her uncle's well-stocked bar, downing shots of tequila with salt and lemon chasers.

After a few belts, Brad put his arm around the redhead and pulled her off her stool into his embrace. Sandy's hopes rose again.

"Let's go down to the river and find a secluded spot," Brad said. "My little cousin from the sticks will be here any minute. Let's be gone before she and the old man make their appearance!"

"Sounds fine to me, lover," the redhead grinned back.

The couple made their way through the kitchen and out into the three-car garage. Sandy heard the hum of an electric garage-door-opener, then the roar of a sports car coming to throaty life. There was a squeal of rubber, then the steady hum of the door closing again.

"Shit!" Sandy growled in disappointment, alone now in the gigantic house.

Looking at the clock, Sandy saw that it was only a little past three o'clock in the afternoon. She would be stuck alone in this massive, plushly furnished barn until at least four from what Uncle Jack had said. Aunt Ronda got home then.

Noticing the stereo components covering half of the shelves on one wall in the family room Sandy finally figured out how to turn the monster set on. She switched the speakers on out in the patio-cabana area and opened the sliding door to listen. Heavy, driving rock music flooded the sunny deck.