Why do the hard work when you can get a boy to do it for you?

After going upstairs to your sister's room and staring at her wardrobe you realized that you'd need a way to get to the store and then transport the sausages. If there's one thing you've always shared with your sister it was an aversion to hard work.

"Why do the work when I can get someone else to do it for me?" you mutter. You've no doubt that's been your sister's philosophy and for once you find yourself agreeing.

In this body, though, you find you have more options. There's a plethora of girlfriends who might help, but would they be ****? Then there's a bevy of boys who'd love to have your sexy body in their car. The manual labor that would be expected of them would be worth it for the chance to ogle you and dream of getting lucky.

Your mother's admonishment to be charitable goes through your head, bringing a devilish grin to lips that any guy would love to see wrapped around his 'sausage'.

"Now who should be the lucky boy?" you think, selecting an outfit but putting off wearing it until you've scrolled through her cell phone's contact list to locate a candidate.