She looked like MJ.
Not the one I knew, but a different flavor of MJ. The cheekbones, the stare, the walk like she had better places to be and hated you for slowing her down. It clicked.
"Isn't she Tom Holland's MJ?" I muttered under my breath.
[System]: Mmm~ Zendaya-mode detected. Thread count maxed. MCU crossover vibes strong. Welcome to Earth-69-WTF, sugar.
No way this was the same MJ. The girl I met two weeks ago was white, redhead, sarcastic, and probably one bad joke away from throwing me from the roof. This one was brown-skinned, tall, eyes sharp. She had piercings, boots that looked like they cost a threat, and an aura like she read people's search histories for fun.
"That makes two MJs."
[System]: Double the trauma. Triple the confusion. Which one moans louder? Only one way to find out.
I side-eyed Jessica. She was wearing an oversized hoodie, face stiff as a wall.
I remembered her saying she would crash with her aunt.
I glanced at the woman walking with them.
Wait.
"Hold up," I whispered, half to myself. "Is MJ2 Jessica's cousin?"
[System]: Confirmed visual overlap. Same jawline. Same judgment eyes. That woman has yelled at many children before. Probably while holding a flip-flop.
"Jessica is really related to MJ2?"
[System]: Ding ding. Spider soap opera unlocked. You just unlocked the 'Holy shit my crush has family' arc.
Seemed like Jessica had a pass to say one more word than some of us.
"Hey System, if I call MJ2, MJB, would it be racist?"
[System]: Depends. If the B stands for 'better,' no. If it stands for 'bootylicious,' still no. If it stands for 'brown,' cancel incoming. Proceed with caution.
"MJB it is."
[System]: Racism speedrun unlocked. Run in Jojo.
I leaned on the edge of the locker, watching as they talked to the front office lady like they were registering trauma and sass in one go. MJB had her arms crossed. That pissed-off-cousin stance. Jessica stood beside her, hands in her pockets. She was not hiding. Just not giving extra energy. The woman behind them handed over a form and started talking to someone on the admin side.
Seems like they were registering her at my school. What were the odds. Though, considering Midtown was basically Marvel Teen Hogwarts, it was not that surprising. Still, she had just gotten out of Killgrave's trauma cage. Why were they rushing her back into a building full of hormones, rumors, and boys who could not even spell therapy?
Probably trying to normalize her. Slap on a schedule and pretend she was not almost brainwashed into becoming a twisted house pet. Classic adult strategy. Shove the damage under a backpack and hope algebra fixes the soul.
Today was a special date. I was to help Mrs. Thompson, the MILF next door, with her radiator. She lived a couple of house over. Widow, forty-something, two kids in college, body like a mature wine bottle wrapped in yoga pants. She worked remote for some publishing house, probably editing shitty romance books written by women who watched too many werewolf TikToks.
I had seen enough porn to know what awaited me.
[System]: Mmm~ it's time, sugar. You are entering the plot of every "thanks for fixing my sink" video ever made.
I knocked.
Door opened three seconds later. She stood there in a bathrobe, loose tie, one knee bent like she was posing for the cover of "Suburbian Temptation Weekly." No makeup. Just natural cheekbones, glossy lips, and a neckline deep enough to echo.
"Right on time," she said. "You brought tools?"
I held up my backpack. "Only the necessary ones."
She stepped aside. I entered. House smelled like jasmine.
"Radiator's in the back," she said. "Bedroom. The one near the window makes that clicking noise when I turn it on. Like it is choking."
"I will check if it is dying."
[System]: Oh baby. She just invited you to her room with a broken appliance and a bathrobe. This is every boy's dream that ends in stepmom quotes.
I walked in. The radiator sat beside the bed. The bed, by the way, looked like a centerpiece from a furniture ad that whispered: "Get wrecked on these pillows." White sheets. Thick mattress. Duvet slightly folded back. One pillow still had a dent like someone had been laying there five minutes ago.
I dropped the bag. Squatted by the radiator. Pulled out a small wrench. Twisted the valve. Steam hissed once. Nothing serious.
"You bleed it recently?" I asked.
She walked behind me. I didn't turn. Her footsteps slowed near my back.
"No. I was hoping you could... do that."
[System]: Mmm~ bleed the pipes, flood the bed. I love her already.
I twisted the pressure valve again. Let a little air escape. No leak. No damage. Just old. The radiator worked fine. This was not a call for help. It was bait.
She leaned closer. I felt her breath near my neck.
"You smell nice," she whispered.
"That is... deodorant and hormone."
She chuckled. Then bent forward.
Her hand touched my back. Slid down. Rested on my waist.
"Peter," she said, "can you do one more thing for me?"
I stood.
Turned.
Her robe opened slightly. Lace underneath. Black. Barely there. She was shaved. Smooth. Her thighs tightened slightly as she caught my stare.
"What do you need fixed?" I asked.
She stepped back. Sat on the bed.
Spread her legs.
"Me."
I stepped forward.
Pulled off my hoodie. Shirt underneath came next. Her eyes followed every inch like she was memorizing sin. I undid my belt. Let it drop. Pants followed. Boxers last.
She watched me like I was a rare candy, unwrapped, ready to be eaten by her. Her gaze locked on my cock.
"Mmm, I haven't seen this big for decades."
She leaned back on her palms, legs still apart, eyes not blinking. The robe slid off her shoulders, slow, lazy, like she wanted to give gravity a strip tease. Her chest was full, firm, breasts spilling out of a black lace bra that looked like it came with a warning label. She hooked her finger under the center clasp and pulled. It snapped open. The bra dropped. Her nipples were hard, skin tight. She reached down, touched one slowly, watching me.
"Come here," she said.
I stepped in. She grabbed my cock before I reached the bed. Fingers wrapped around it, stroking. Slow and firm, like she was reacquainting with an old favorite. Her thumb slid over the tip. A single drop smeared across it.
"You're leaking," she whispered.
I bent forward, grabbed her thighs, pulled her to the edge. She gasped when the bed dipped. Her legs spread wider. The strip of lace already disappeared between her folds.
I pushed my thumb against her slit. She twitched.
"You are soaked."
"You made me," she breathed. "You don't even know how badly I want this."
I rubbed her clit in slow circles. Her hips pushed forward, chasing pressure. She leaned back on her elbows. Chest heaving. Her thighs spread further. I slid two fingers inside. Her back arched. Moan sharp. Her cunt clenched like it had not been fucked in years.
I went deeper. Curved. Found the spot. She bit her lip, hard. Her hand slapped the sheet beside her. She looked ready to explode.
I dropped to my knees.
She started to say something. I licked her slit before the words could form.
She gasped, legs flinching. My tongue flattened, slow upstroke. Clit to hole. Her whole body jerked. I sucked on her clit. Her hips rolled up to meet me.
"Fuck... Peter..."
I kept going. Tongue flicked fast now. Fingers inside, curling. Her walls squeezed. She was loud. She didn't care. Her hand grabbed the back of my head, held me down. She rode my mouth like it was rent control.
She came fast and hard. Legs locked around my head. Her pussy pulsed, wetness coated my lips. She cried out, short but loud.
I stood. She lay flat on the bed now, eyes glazed. Her chest rose and fell in quick bursts. I climbed over her, cock sliding between her thighs. She reached down, guided it in.
I thrust. She screamed.
"Fuck yes! Yes!"
Her cunt gripped me like it forgot everything but how to beg. I slammed into her. Again. Again. Her tits bounced with each hit. She wrapped her legs around my back, heels digging into my ass.
"You are gonna split me open," she gasped.
"That is the idea."
I pounded harder. The bed creaked. Her nails scraped down my back. She arched again, moaned louder.
She came again. She bit her lip. Could not stop shaking.
I flipped her. Grabbed her hips. Pulled her ass up.
"More?" I asked.
"Yes. Don't stop. Fuck me. Just fuck me."
I slid back in from behind. Her cunt was soaked. I bottomed out in one thrust. She yelped.
Her ass bounced with each thrust. She looked back once, hair in her face, mascara smudged.
"You are too good at this. Dangerous."
I grabbed her hair. Pulled back. Her neck arched.
"You called me to fix your radiator. Now you are dripping on your bed."
"Best service call I ever made."
I slammed harder. She cried out. Her voice cracked. She buried her face in the pillow, screaming into it as I fucked her like she was made to take it.
I pulled out. Slapped her ass. She moaned.
"Where do you want it?" I asked.
"Inside. I want to feel it."
I grabbed her waist. Slid back in. She pushed against me.
"Fill me. I want to feel you all day."
I fucked her harder. Her body rocked forward with every thrust. Her moans turned to cries. Her hands clawed the sheets.
I came deep inside her. She gasped. Her body jolted. She whimpered, soft, shaking.
I stayed there, buried inside her. Her pussy pulsed around me, milking every drop.
When I pulled out, she collapsed. Her thighs were shaking. A thin trail of cum slipped out and down her slit.
She looked over her shoulder, lazy smile, lips swollen. "You wrecked me."
I pushed my cock into her mouth, "We are just starting."
She moaned around it, gagged once as I hit the back of her throat. Her hands gripped my thighs, trying to hold herself steady. I didn't give her a chance to adjust. I shoved deeper. Her mascara had already started to smear, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
"Take it. Don't hold back."
She looked up, eyes watery, tongue stretched under my shaft. I pulled back slightly, then pushed in again. Her throat twitched. She tried to breathe through her nose, but the moan leaking out of her made it worse. She wanted more.
I kept fucking her mouth slow and heavy. She drooled, spit trailing down her chin. Every thrust forced a fresh string of it out, mixing with my precum. She was a mess already. Her hands were useless now. Just clutching the sheets behind her, fingernails digging into the mattress.
"Open wider."
She obeyed. Her lips stretched, her jaw trembling from the strain. I pushed in to the base. Her nose hit my skin. She gagged again, coughed, then swallowed around it like she refused to stop. I held there, just to see if she could take it.
[System]: Mmm~ this is like watching a human blender operate on maximum throat capacity. Bonus points for no teeth, sugar.
I pulled out, slapped my cock on her cheek, then slid it back in. She moaned again, louder this time, eyes fluttering like she was getting drunk off the taste. Her cheeks were flushed. Her hair stuck to her face. She looked like porn wrapped in a guilt-trip fantasy.
"Touch yourself."
She slid her hand down without breaking pace. Fingers dove between her legs, rubbing her clit fast. Her legs started shaking again, not from effort but from heat. She was about to cum just from sucking dick and rubbing her slit.
I grabbed her hair, wrapped it around my fist, yanked her head back. My cock popped out of her mouth with a slick slap.
"Get on the bed."
She scrambled up, still gasping. I grabbed her waist, shoved her back into the pillows, and forced her legs open.
"You gonna make me beg for it?" she whispered.
"No. You already did. When you opened the door with just robe."
I shoved back in. She screamed. Her legs wrapped around me instantly. Her nails scraped down my chest. I grabbed her wrists, pinned them to the bed above her head, and kept fucking her like she was a wet hole built to take it.
The bed squeaked loud now. Her body bounced with every thrust. Her tits jiggled, her stomach tightened, her cunt gripped me like it was trying to drag me deeper. She kept moaning, cursing, whispering my name like it would make me fuck harder.
"You wanted this?"
"Yes."
"You begged me to fix you?"
"Yes."
I let go of one wrist, slapped her across the face lightly, she gasped. Then I grabbed her throat.
Her eyes rolled up.
I squeezed tighter.
"Cum."
She did.
Hard.
Her body shook under me. Her thighs locked. Her cunt pulsed around my cock, squeezing like it wanted to suck every drop from me. She cried out, louder than before, raw, messy, real.
I kept going.
I twisted her nipple, watched her face twist into another wave.
I pulled out.
Grabbed her waist.
Flipped her.
Shoved her face into the mattress, yanked her hips up, and slid back inside.
"Not done."
She whimpered. Tried to nod. I grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled back.
Her mouth opened again. No words. Just ragged moans as I slammed into her. Wet slaps echoed with every thrust.
I fucked her harder than before. Her ass bounced, her cunt gushed. I slapped her cheek. She moaned louder.
"You know this is wrong, right?"
"Yes!"
"Still letting me?"
"Yes!"
"Why?"
"Because I need it. I need you!"
I grunted.
Thrust once more.
Twice.
I came.
Pulled out and sprayed her lower back. Hot. Thick. It slid down her ass, pooling in the small of her back. She rolled over, hair messy, lips bruised from sucking, chest heaving.
See MJB's images in Chapter Images.
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You can read up to Chapter 85...
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