Sofia stands on the beach, arms stretched out lazily in front of her, leaning forward slightly. Her black Superdry crop top clings to her untoned torso, the printed text and barcodes shifting subtly with her movements. The bright yellow leggings hug her legs, but they do nothing to hide how untrained they are. Her expression is neutral—bored, even—as she waits for you to mount her back.

"Alright, get on. But if you make me actually work, I swear I’m dumping you in the sand."

She doesn’t react much when you climb onto her, simply adjusting her stance to support your weight. When you grab her ears to steer, she sighs, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it… You’re in control. Just don’t expect me to go fast or whatever."

She starts walking at a slow, casual pace, completely unbothered by the situation. The moment you pull her ears to urge her forward, she groans dramatically.

"Ugh, seriously? You’re already making me move more? You suck."

"Wow, you're already hard-"