I woke up hard.

Not the usual morning wood that fades after a piss. This was different—thick, insistent, curving up against my stomach like it remembered last night and demanded a repeat. My sheets were tangled, damp in spots from sweat and leftover cum. Mia’s scent still clung to my skin: coconut shampoo, something faintly sweet between her thighs, and the musky trace of my own release on her hand when she’d wiped it across my chest before kissing me goodnight.

I’d fallen asleep on the couch beside her. She’d curled into my side, one leg thrown over mine, her bare breasts pressed to my ribs. We hadn’t gone further than the handjob and that long, filthy make-out session—her tongue tasting like salt and sin—but it was enough to short-circuit my brain. Enough to make my cock twitch every time she shifted in her sleep.

Now the apartment was quiet. Sunlight sliced through the blinds, striping the living room floor. Mia wasn’t beside me.

I sat up, cock bobbing painfully. Listened.

Shower running.

Of course.

I stood, naked, and padded down the short hallway. The bathroom door was cracked—just enough for steam to curl out, just enough for me to see the fogged mirror and the blurred shape of her behind the glass door.

I should have waited. Should have jerked off in my room like the guilty fuck I was.

Instead I pushed the door open.

Hot air hit me like a wall. Mia turned at the sound, water streaming over her shoulders, plastering dark hair to her back. She didn’t cover herself. Didn’t gasp or yelp. Just looked at me through the glass, eyes half-lidded, lips curved in that same wicked little smile from last night.

“Morning,” she said over the hiss of the shower. “Took you long enough.”

My cock jerked at the sight of her—full breasts glistening, nipples dark and tight from the heat, the neat triangle of hair between her legs darkened by water. She soaped her stomach slowly, deliberately, letting suds slide down to her slit.

“You’re already hard again,” she observed, gaze dropping to my erection. “See? Told you. Only me.”

I stepped closer. The tile was cool under my feet. “Couldn’t help it. Heard the water. Pictured you in here. Naked. Wet. Thinking about last night.”

Mia turned off the shower. The sudden silence made every sound louder—my breathing, the drip from the faucet, the soft wet slap of her feet as she stepped out onto the mat.

She didn’t reach for a towel.

Instead she closed the distance between us, water still beading on her skin, dripping onto the floor. Her nipples brushed my chest first—cool from the air, hard as pebbles. Then her stomach against my aching cock. She tilted her head up.

“Kiss me,” she said.

I did. Harder than last night. Hungrier. One hand fisted in her wet hair, the other slid down to grip her ass—firm, slick, perfect. She moaned into my mouth, tongue sliding against mine, hips rocking so my cock slipped between her thighs, gliding along her folds without pushing inside.

Not yet.

She broke the kiss, panting. “I’ve been touching myself since I woke up. Couldn’t stop thinking about how you came all over my hand. How thick you felt. How much more there is.”

I groaned, forehead dropping to hers. “Mia…”

She reached between us, wrapped her fingers around me again. Stroked once, twice—slow, teasing. “I want to feel it in my mouth first. Want to know what it’s like to choke on my brother’s cock.”

The words hit like a punch. My hips bucked into her hand.

She sank to her knees right there on the bath mat. Water from her hair dripped onto my thighs as she looked up at me, eyes gleaming.

“Tell me you’ve never been this hard for anyone else,” she said.

“Never,” I rasped. “Not even close.”

“Good.”

She licked the underside from base to tip—slow, flat tongue, tasting the pre-cum that had been leaking since I walked in. Then she took the head into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Gentle at first, exploratory. Then deeper. Her hand pumped what wouldn’t fit, twisting at the base while her tongue swirled around the crown.

I threaded my fingers through her wet hair, not forcing, just holding. “Fuck… just like that.”

She hummed around me—vibration straight to my balls. Pulled off with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to my cock.

“Does it feel better than your hand?” she asked, voice hoarse.

“So much better.”

She dove back down, taking me deeper this time. Gagged a little when I hit the back of her throat, but didn’t stop. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes from the stretch, but she kept going, bobbing faster, messier. Spit dripped down her chin, mixed with shower water.

I was close already—too close. The sight of her on her knees, lips stretched around me, eyes watering while she sucked like she was starving for it—

“Mia—I’m gonna—”

She pulled off just enough to speak, lips brushing the head. “Do it. Come in my mouth. Feed it to me. I want every drop you’ve been saving for your sister.”

That snapped the last thread.

I came with a choked groan, hips jerking. Pulse after pulse flooded her mouth. She swallowed—greedily, throat working—then pulled back to let the last spurts land on her tongue. She showed me—white streaks across the pink—before swallowing again, slow and deliberate.

When she finally released me, my cock was still twitching, oversensitive. She kissed the tip softly, almost tenderly.

“Still hard,” she murmured, stroking me gently. “Even after that.”

I hauled her up, kissed her hard—tasting myself on her tongue, not caring. Lifted her onto the bathroom counter. Her legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my ass.

“Now,” she whispered against my lips. “I want you inside me. Right here. Right now.”

I notched myself at her entrance—hot, slick, dripping from her own arousal. Paused.

“You sure?” My voice was wrecked.

She nodded, nails raking down my back. “I’ve been sure since the second you told me it’s only me. Fuck me, Alex. Make it real.”

I pushed in—slow at first, savoring the tight heat, the way she gasped and clenched around me. Then deeper. Until I bottomed out, hips flush to hers.

We both froze for a second, breathing hard.

“God,” she whimpered. “You’re so deep.”

I started moving—slow rolls at first, grinding against her clit with every thrust. Then faster. Harder. The counter creaked under us. Her breasts bounced with each slam. She clawed at my shoulders, moaning my name like a prayer.

“Harder,” she begged. “Fuck your little sister like you’ve wanted to for months.”

I gave it to her—deep, punishing strokes. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed off the tiles. She came first—sudden, violent—walls fluttering around me, crying out as her nails drew red lines down my back.

I followed right after, burying myself to the hilt and spilling inside her. Pulse after pulse, filling her until it leaked out around my cock.

We stayed like that—locked together, panting, foreheads pressed.

After a long minute, she laughed softly, breathless.

“Still hard,” she whispered, clenching around me on purpose. “Guess we’re not done yet.”

I kissed her slow this time. Tender.

“Not even close.”

We didn’t make it out of the bathroom for another hour.

After that first raw, desperate fuck on the counter—her legs locked around me, my cum still leaking out of her as I stayed buried deep—Mia slid off the edge, feet hitting the tile with a soft slap. She turned her back to me, bent at the waist, hands braced on the sink. Water from her hair still dripped in slow rivulets down her spine, pooling at the small of her back before sliding between her ass cheeks.

She looked at me over her shoulder, eyes glassy, lips swollen from kissing and sucking.

“Again,” she said. Not a request. A command wrapped in velvet.

I stepped up behind her, cock still slick with her and me, still rigid like it hadn’t just emptied twice in the last twenty minutes. I gripped her hips—fingers digging into soft flesh—and slid back inside in one long, slow thrust.

Mia’s head dropped forward, a long moan echoing off the tiles. “Fuck… yes. Fill me up again. Don’t stop until I’m dripping.”

I didn’t.

I fucked her steady at first—deep, deliberate rolls of my hips, grinding against her ass every time I bottomed out. Watching myself disappear into her, the way her pussy lips clung to me on the out-stroke, creamy white streaks already coating my shaft from earlier. Her reflection in the fogged mirror was obscene: mouth open, eyes half-shut, breasts swaying with each thrust.

She reached back, grabbed one of my wrists, guided my hand around to her clit.

“Rub me,” she gasped. “Make me come on your cock again. I want to feel you throb when I squeeze.”

I circled her clit with two fingers—firm pressure, the way I’d imagined doing a hundred times in the dark. She bucked back against me, meeting every thrust, ass slapping against my hips.

“Tell me,” she panted. “Tell me no one else will ever get this from you.”

“No one,” I growled, picking up speed. “Only you. Always you. I tried—fuck—I tried so hard with other girls. Couldn’t even stay hard long enough to get inside them. But you… one look at you in those shorts and I’m leaking. One word from your mouth and I’m ready to explode.”

Mia whimpered, walls fluttering around me. “Say it again.”

“You’re the only one who makes me hard. The only one who can make me come like this. My little sister owns my cock now.”

That pushed her over.

She came with a sharp cry, body locking tight, pussy pulsing in hard, rhythmic waves that milked me relentlessly. I couldn’t hold back—slammed deep one last time and unloaded again, groaning her name as I flooded her for the third time that morning. Hot spurts painting her insides until it overflowed, dripping down her thighs in thick white trails.

We stayed like that for a minute—me slumped over her back, both of us breathing like we’d run a marathon. My cock softened only slightly inside her, still twitching with aftershocks.

Eventually she straightened, turned in my arms, kissed me slow and lazy.

“Shower,” she murmured against my lips. “Properly this time. Then breakfast. I’m starving.”

We washed each other under the spray—hands lingering, soapy slides over skin that felt new and forbidden even after everything. She knelt once to clean me with her mouth, gentle now, almost reverent. I returned the favor, dropping to my knees to lick her clean—tasting us mixed together, her swollen clit, the way she trembled when my tongue dipped inside.

By the time we stepped out, the apartment smelled like sex and steam.

Mia wrapped herself in my towel—too big, slipping off one shoulder—and padded to the kitchen. I followed in boxers, cock still half-interested, already stirring at the sight of her bare legs moving under the terrycloth.

She opened the fridge, bent at the waist to grab eggs and milk. The towel rode up, flashing her ass—still pink from my grip, a faint handprint blooming on one cheek.

I groaned. “You’re killing me.”

She glanced back, smirking. “Good. I like you desperate.”

She cooked—scrambled eggs, toast, coffee—like nothing had changed. Except everything had. We ate at the small table, knees touching under it. Every time she reached for the salt, her towel slipped a little more. Every time I shifted, my boxers tented obviously.

Halfway through breakfast she set her fork down.

“Question,” she said casually.

I raised an eyebrow.

“How long do you think you can go without getting hard for someone else? Like… forever?”

I swallowed coffee the wrong way, coughed. “I don’t know. It’s been months already. And now that I’ve actually had you…” I trailed off, looking at her. “I don’t want anyone else. Ever.”

Mia’s eyes softened for a second—something tender under the heat. Then the wicked smile returned.

“Prove it.”

She stood, let the towel drop completely. Naked in the middle of our kitchen at ten in the morning, sunlight catching the water droplets still clinging to her skin.

“Living room,” she said. “Couch. Now.”

I followed her like a man possessed.

She pushed me down onto the cushions, straddled my lap facing me. My boxers were gone in seconds. She sank down slowly—inch by inch—taking me to the hilt with a sigh that sounded like relief.

“Ride me,” I begged. “Use me.”

She did.

Slow at first—rolling her hips in lazy circles, grinding her clit against my pelvis. Then faster—bouncing, breasts jiggling, hands braced on my shoulders for leverage. I thrust up to meet her, hands on her ass, spreading her wider.

“Harder,” she demanded. “Fuck me like you hate that I’m the only one who can do this to you.”

I flipped us—her on her back, legs over my shoulders. Pounded into her with everything I had—deep, punishing strokes that made her cry out and claw at the cushions.

“Yes—yes—fuck—only me—only your sister—”

I came first this time, roaring as I filled her again. She followed seconds later, back arching, nails raking down my arms, pussy clamping so tight I saw stars.

We collapsed in a sweaty heap.

After a long silence, she traced lazy circles on my chest.

“Think we should set some ground rules?” she asked softly.

“Like what?”

“Like… no other girls. Ever. You don’t even look twice at them. And if you start getting soft again…” She squeezed me gently where I was still inside her. “You come straight to me. No hiding. No jerking off alone. You bring it to your sister.”

I kissed her forehead. “Deal.”

“And maybe…” She hesitated, then smiled shyly. “Maybe we don’t stop at just fucking. Maybe we make this… ours. Secret. But real.”

My heart did something funny.

“Yeah,” I said. “Ours.”

She snuggled closer, my softening cock still nestled inside her.

“Good. Because I’m not letting you go soft for anyone else. Ever.”

I held her tighter.

Only for her.

To be continued...