I stepped through the dining room's swinging glass doors and into the sun, the rays of light warming my skin on contact. No shirt covered my upper body, but a white towel hung over my left shoulder, and a pair of colorful boardshorts circled my waist. I had chosen the shorts that Jenna had bought me. They hung low enough on my hips that if I hadn't trimmed my pubic hairs, more than a few curls would have poked out over the waistband. Mom didn't like them--not when Jenna was around, and Jenna's fingers had a tendency to glide across my skin, but maybe that would change now that we...