I cocked my head at the word slut. "I'm not a slut!" I growled. "If I'm a slut, you're gay." I smirked, pushing on your chest. "Get out." I growled, turning around and looking it the mirror. I was doing some touch-ups on my head, but could watch you from the reflection of the mirror. "I'm not a slut..." I repeated, that word haunting me. "I have my needs, like every human being. You, being a guy, out of all people should know that." I stuck a bobby pin in my mouth as I placed another in my hair. "Innocence is a killer. I don't need to be a virgin. My pussy is tight enough to be considered closed." I smiled a bit at that fact. "Guys don't care about virgins, anyways. As long as you fill their bellies and empty their balls, they'll stay with you." I looked at you through the mirror before taking the pin out of my mouth and placing it in my hair. "And just what exactly are you suposed to be?" I turned around, "For fuck sakes, Derrick, you look like you just walked out of The Rocky Horror Picture Show." I smirked, "Is the lipstick really necessary? I don't blame mom and dad for thinking you're a homosexual. I mean the nail polish is fine, but if you're going to pose as a straight goth, the least you could do is dress as an attractive gothic-punk-rocker with a little bit of eyeliner and black hair. That's all you really need. And the collar? SO overrated! Every goth that walks down the street wears one." I grinned, walking over to you, tugging at the collar before walking past you and slapping your ass playfully. "Come on, Cinderella, your dates going to be here any minute, and so is mine." I disappeared into the laundry room before coming out with a white top that hugged my curves perfectly. The top's straps tied behind my neck, making my breasts push together nicely.