The house felt different the next morning. Not louder or brighter, just tighter, like the air itself remembered what had happened in the laundry room the night before. Alex woke up hard, the memory of Mia's tight heat still vivid enough that he had to lie there for a minute breathing slow before he could stand. He could still feel the ghost of her nails on his stomach, the way she'd clenched around him when she came.
Down the hall, the shower was already running. Mia's door stood open a crack. He didn't look inside. Not yet.
Breakfast was quiet. Their parents had left early for work, same as always on Fridays, so it was just the two of them at the kitchen table. Mia sat across from him in an oversized hoodie (his, he realized after a second) and the same black bike shorts from yesterday. The hoodie swallowed her frame, but when she reached for the milk carton it slipped off one shoulder, exposing the smooth curve of her collarbone and the faint red mark his teeth had left on her neck.
She caught him staring at it. Didn't smile. Just held his gaze while she poured cereal, slow and deliberate.
"Sleep okay?" she asked.
"Fine."
"Liar."
She took a bite, chewed, swallowed. "You owe me a rematch."
He leaned back in his chair. "Thought we already settled that."
"Not even close." She set the spoon down. "New rules. Whoever cums first loses. Loser does whatever the winner says for the rest of the day. No backing out."
Alex felt his cock twitch under the table at the casual way she laid it out. "And if I win?"
Her eyes flicked down, then back up. "You won't."
They didn't talk much after that. She finished eating, rinsed her bowl, and walked past him close enough that her hip brushed his arm. The hoodie rode up just enough to show the bottom curve of her ass, still red from his grip yesterday.
"Garage," she said over her shoulder. "Twenty minutes. Don't keep me waiting."
He gave her the twenty. When he walked in she was already on the bench again, this time in nothing but the hoodie and a fresh pair of gray cotton panties. The hoodie was unzipped halfway, showing the inner swell of her breasts, nipples already peaked against the fabric. She'd loaded the bar lighter than yesterday, clearly not here for lifting.
"Spot me," she said, lying back.
He stepped up. Hands on the bar. She didn't even pretend to lift. Just looked up at him, legs spreading slowly until her knees framed his hips.
"Touch me," she said.
He slid one hand down her stomach, under the hoodie. Skin warm, smooth, still faintly damp from the shower. Her abs flexed under his palm when he reached the waistband of her panties. She lifted her hips. He hooked two fingers under the cotton and tugged them aside.
She was already wet, lips swollen, glistening. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her clit once, slow. She hissed, hips jerking.
"Again."
He did. Circles this time. Her breathing turned shallow. She reached up, yanked the hoodie open the rest of the way. Breasts spilled free, perky C-cups, nipples dark and tight. She palmed one herself, pinching the nipple while she watched his face.
"You're hard already," she observed.
"Been hard since breakfast."
She smirked. "Good."
She sat up, swung her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of the bench facing him. Hands went to his shorts, drawstring pulled, fabric shoved down. His cock sprang out, thick and flushed, eight inches standing proud. She wrapped her fingers around him, couldn't quite close them fully, and stroked once, root to tip.
"Fuck," he muttered.
She looked up at him through her lashes. "Bet's on. Don't cum before I do."
Then she leaned forward and took him in her mouth.
No teasing buildup. Lips stretched around the head, tongue flat against the underside. She hollowed her cheeks and slid down halfway before pulling back slow, letting him feel every inch of her throat relaxing. One hand stroked what she couldn't fit; the other cupped his balls, rolling them gently. Saliva dripped down her chin. She moaned around him, vibration straight to his spine.
Alex gripped the bench edge. Knuckles white. He watched her, ponytail loose now, strands sticking to her cheeks, breasts swaying with each bob of her head. She pulled off with a gasp, stroked him fast, slick with her spit.
"Your turn," she said.
She lay back on the bench again, legs spread wide. He dropped to his knees between them. Hooked her panties to the side and licked a long stripe from entrance to clit. She bucked, hand flying to his hair.
"Fuck, yes, "
He focused on her clit, circles with the flat of his tongue, then quick flicks. Slid two fingers inside her, tight, hot, walls fluttering. She was soaked; he could hear it every time he thrust them in and out. Her abs clenched visibly, hips rolling to meet his mouth.
She came fast, shuddering, thighs clamping around his head, a choked moan escaping before she bit her lip hard enough to leave marks. Her pussy pulsed around his fingers, slick coating his hand.
She pushed him back, breathing ragged. "You didn't cum."
"Not yet."
She stood, turned, bent over the bench. Ass up, hoodie hanging open, breasts swaying beneath her. She looked back over her shoulder.
"Fuck me. Hard. Make me lose properly."
He stepped up. Rubbed the head along her slit, coating himself in her wetness, then pushed in slow. She was still pulsing from her orgasm; the squeeze was almost too much. He bottomed out with a groan, hips flush against her ass.
She pushed back. "Move."
He did. Hard, steady thrusts, each one rocking her forward on the bench. Her breasts slapped against the padding. He reached around, palmed one, rolling the nipple between his fingers. She moaned louder, head dropping.
"Harder, fuck, mark me again, "
He leaned over her, teeth finding the same spot on her neck. Bit down, not gentle. She cried out, walls fluttering around him. He slapped her ass once, sharp crack echoing in the garage. She clenched hard.
"Again."
He did. Red handprint blooming on her tanned skin. She came a second time, sudden, violent, pussy spasming, milking him. The sight of it, her arched back, ass marked, face flushed, snapped his control.
He pulled out at the last second, stroked himself twice, and came across her lower back and ass, thick ropes painting her skin. She shivered at the heat of it.
They stayed like that for a long breath, her bent over the bench, him behind her, cock still twitching in his hand.
She straightened slowly, turned. Looked down at the mess on her skin, then up at him.
"You lost," she said, voice hoarse.
He raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure you came twice."
"Doesn't count if you finish after." She smirked, wiped a streak of his cum off her ass with two fingers and licked them clean, slow, deliberate. "Winner's rules. You do whatever I say today."
Alex tucked himself away, heart still pounding. "And if I refuse?"
She stepped close, close enough that he could smell sex and sweat on her skin. Hand slid up his chest.
"You won't."
She kissed him once, hard, possessive, then pulled back.
"Shower. Together. Now."
She walked out first, hoodie still open, cum streaking her skin like a claim.
Alex followed.
The rematch wasn't over.
It had barely started.