When she'd regained her senses and caught her breath, she dropped the jockstrap into the washer with the rest of her brother's clothing and she set the water temperature to hot. Before she went upstairs, she wiped the insides of her thighs clean of pussy-juice with a towel.

At the dinner table a half hour later, Skip sat across from Jenny without either shoes on or a shirt. Jenny could hardly take her eyes off his muscles. Because she couldn't see the lower half of his body, he looked stark naked to her. From time to time his bare feet and her bare feet accidentally met under the table, and Jenny quickly drew her feet back. When this happened Skip would glance up and smile at her, and Jenny's face would flush with heat.

"I suppose you wanna know why I'm not wearing a shirt at the dinner table," Skip said.

"You read my mind," Jenny said.

"I'm not wearing a shirt just for the hell of it," Skip said. "Know what I mean? I mean, why wear a shirt on a warm evening like this just because I'm eating dinner? It's stupid. A guy oughta be comfortable."

"Mom would have a fit," Jenny said.

"I know," Skip said. "So would Dad. Which makes it that much more fun. They got all these stupid rules we're supposed to follow, even if the rules don't make any sense. Well, while they're gone I'm only gonna do what makes sense to me. Do you realize this is the first time in our lives we've been left alone in this house? This is the first time in my life I've ever been able to do what I want around here."

"I know what you mean," Jenny said.

Skip laughed, then patted his bare stomach and belched.