It is so hard to describe what I felt. Had I have turned over and seen a girl in a thong I would say she's beautiful, she's got a good body, great tit... or fantastic legs. I would acknowledge her looks and sexiness and would, of course, want to fuck her. I did not feel that when I looked at Peter. All I felt was sex. All I saw was a vehicle for sex, a conduit for the provision of it. I did not see him as being beautiful or handsome, I did consider his body to look wonderful and I didn't want to. He looked at me with an eyebrow raised as he took another sip of tea. I bit my lip.“I thought you were getting ready for bed.”“I’m kind of ready.”“Brushed your teeth?” I shook my head.“Been to the bathroom?” I shook my head again.“Well you’re not ready for bed, then, are you?”I rolled my eyes at Dad.“I didn’t say I was ready – I said I was kind of ready.”That annoying eyebrow went up again. Okay – now that I’ve thought about what I said, maybe I wasn’t using very good logic.“So what did you. I went to see her DP too, which was her in tank top t-shirt and jeans and posing with her friends.I messaged her on WhatsApp itself, saying nice DP. I have mostly seen her in salwar, and on weekends she does wear casuals, but not such tight tank tops.I then messaged her saying she should dress up like this more often. She was blushing, then she looked up at me. She said she mostly dresses up like this when she’s out with friends, and worries to dress up in casual cos of strict work rules.After. At first of course she thought he was lying, but the steady stream of models, and film starlets, and beautiful women she’d seen begging to get into his bed had convinced her. Well, half convinced her anyway, she still kind of expected him to laugh at her for buying into it.“Hmm, maybe if it is fun.” He replied, relaxing back into the sofa. He wondered what she wanted; she did well academically, was already very popular, and certainly didn’t need help with guys. Even as her brother he could see.