You’re suddenly awoken by a door slamming.

BANG!

You awaken with a start. At first you have no idea where you are. Then you realize you're on the living room couch. Then you remember: you dozed off on the couch. The television is off now; your mom must have come in and shut it off at some point. You glance at the clock on the wall next to the television; it reads "6:00".

Wait a minute, six o'clock!? Did you just sleep through the entire day?

"Geez, Sam, did you just sleep through the entire day?" you hear. Is there an echo in here?

You turn around and look up, to see Laura, your younger sister, who has just come in the front door. Laura is only a year younger than you, but unlike you, she has long, blond hair, no glasses, and features that are far more Scandinavian than your own Eastern European looks. Your mother says that she takes after your father, while you look at lot more like your mother. You haven’t seen her all day, and figure she was probably over at her friend Jessica’s house.

Laura puts her hands on her hips, the way she does when she's about to give you a lecture. "Look, Sam, you're allowed to spend your weekends however you want, but have you ever considered that all that junk food and oversleeping could really be affecting your health? I mean, if you really want people to stop bugging you at school--"

You’re staring at her, but you aren’t listening. All you can see is the red of her lipstick, the soft mounds under her T-shirt, the curve of her ass in her skinny jeans. You feel yourself getting hard as you watch her. And as she talks, you feel the coolness of the Manipulator against the skin of your arm... and you decide it's time to put it to the test.

“Laura”, you say with a devious little smile, “I think what you really want to do is take all of your clothes off, right now.”

“Hey, don’t interrupt me!” Laura snaps, as her hands grab the hem of her T-shirt. “Of fucking course I want to take my clothes off right now. What I don’t understand is—“ She pauses as she pulls the shirt up and over her head, revealing a lacy black bra, “—why you’re laying there wearing clothes instead of getting naked like a decent human being!” Her hands move down to the fly of her jeans, and she undoes the button and pulls down the zipper. “I swear, Sam,” she continues, pulling down her pants to expose black lace panties that match her bra, “I’m so sick of coming home and finding you on the couch wearing fucking *clothes*. What if my friends came over and saw you like that?” Her hands were now reaching behind her, undoing the clasp on her bra strap. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to have to explain your clothes to them?” The bra falls free, revealing two perfect, milky white, conical breasts, each topped with a pale pink nipple. “I mean, honestly, what if Jennifer came by and saw you without your cock hanging out? I’d be fucking mortified!” With that, she pulls down her panties and steps out of them, and you see your first real-life pussy: a pale, puffy mons covered in a fine down of blond pubic hair — trimmed, not shaven — and beneath that, a thin, vertical slit surrounded *just* barely by thin pink lips on either side.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a part of you observes this almost clinically. You realize that her brain must be devising some sort of logical framework to explain why she’s removing her clothes in front of you — so it came up, apparently, with the explanation that she (and you) are supposed to be naked at home, and that clothing was somehow indecent. It’s absolutely fascinating to you, but not enough to distract you from the fact that a nude eighteen-year-old girl with long, blonde hair and ruby-red lipstick is standing within a dozen feet from you.

You stare, point-blank, at her exposed sex, the mischievous smile still on your lips. “You know, Laura,” you say slowly, “when you put it that way, you’re absolutely right. And I think I should make it up to you by letting you suck on my cock.”

Laura rolls her eyes at you. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” she grumbles, as she walks toward you. “That’s your solution to everything. I’m not gonna say no, but somehow I expect I’m gonna find you on the couch again at some point, wearing clothes like some disgusting pervert.”

You can’t help but chuckle at this. “No, I swear, Laura,” you say, “I’ve learned my lesson. From now on it’s only nudity at home for me.”

Laura kneels before you now, grabbing the elastic waistband of your boxers. “That’d be a nice surprise,” she says, and gives them a sharp tug down.