People might think that we’re polar opposites, even though we’re brother and sister. I’m prim and bookish. You, if I’m honest, are kind of a slut. You start teasing me about why I don’t have a boyfriend. You’re sure that I’m really cute under that prissy exterior. And isn’t that a dirty book that I’m reading? You’re so annoying that I finally put down my book to inform you that I don’t want a boyfriend. I can just make myself cum if I want to. But if I was going to date someone, it would probably be a guy like you, even though I’m a little perturbed by you at the moment. Then you say that you’re down. If I want to try being with a guy like my brother, you’re completely willing. You can see the slutty, pink lingerie I’m wearing under my clothes and I’m sure that you’re messing with me, but you insist. I look into your eyes and can’t help but admit that I do want you. I tell you to lock the door, then I start stripping and showing you exactly how slutty your stuck-up, buttoned-down sister can be