Friendly Competition

Joseline Kelly had her brother locked down on the couch, controller grinding in her grip, smirk cutting across her face. They hadn’t seen each other in a year. The scoreboard still made that clear. He was trash-talking, sweating, losing every round like clockwork. Then he dropped it: girlfriend was on the way over. Joseline rolled her eyes. She pictured some sad, desperate girl who’d settle for his sorry performance. Lily Rader walked in. Pretty enough, polite voice, zero chance she’d last. Joseline didn’t waste time. Twenty questions sharp as razors. Lily answered. Joseline smiled like she smelled weakness. Then she stood, muttered something about a stomachache, and slipped out of the room. Upstairs she moved fast. Two notes, neat handwriting. One on the bed. One in her pocket. She went back down, smile sugar-sweet. When Lily said she was hungry, Joseline took her shot. “Hey, found this on the couch,” she said, handing over the folded paper like it was innocent. The note told Lily to head upstairs. Alone on the mattress, Lily read the second instruction, peeled off her clothes, and tied the blindfold. Smooth skin, tight waist, already wet. Joseline stepped in quiet. Hands first. Palms sliding over Lily’s breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples until they stiffened. Then her mouth, hot and slow, trailing down Lily’s stomach, tongue dipping lower. Lily moaned when Joseline’s lips closed over her clit. Joseline worked her slow and greedy, licking, sucking, fingers pushing inside with steady rhythm. Lily’s thighs trembled. Her moans climbed higher. When she came, hips jerking, Joseline yanked the blindfold off. Lily blinked, saw who it was, face draining. “You shouldn’t have,” she whispered. Voice shaking. “I love him.” Joseline leaned in, close enough Lily could feel her breath. “He can’t fuck you like this,” she said. “And I’m not done proving it.”