Living with my PORNSTAR sisters-Chapter 11: A Family Affair
The house was eerily silent that night.
Sasha and Blair were still deep in their gangbang shoot—had been since noon. Leo knew better than to expect them home before 3 a.m. at the earliest. Around 9:30 p.m., his phone buzzed with a string of video clips from their private group chat labeled "Val’s bedtime story ♡".
He opened the first one.
The screen filled with Sasha’s face—eyes glassy, mascara running in black rivers—mouth stretched wide around two thick cocks while a third pounded her from behind. Blair was in frame too, on all fours beside her, ass high, getting railed in both holes at once, her platinum hair gripped like reins. The audio was pure filth: wet slaps, gagging, muffled screams, men grunting "take it, slut—take every inch."
Leo’s cock went from zero to steel in seconds.
He hit play on the next clip. Then the next. By the fifth he was breathing hard, hand already palming himself through his sweatpants.
He called them.
No answer.
Called again.
This time Blair picked up—mid-moan.
"Aaah—fuck—slow down, it’s my brother—h...aaaaah—"
Her voice cracked into a high whimper as someone clearly slammed into her harder.
"Heyyy Val—do... aah aah—don’t wait up, baby bro—I’ll call you back later—now fuck me again—yesyesyes harder—"
The line went dead, replaced by the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping flesh before it cut off.
Leo dropped the phone like it burned him.
His cock throbbed so violently it hurt. He tore his clothes off—hoodie, sweatpants, boxers—everything hitting the floor in a frantic heap. Naked, leaking, he collapsed back onto the sofa, right where Lana had sat earlier that day, right where Blair had ridden him until the cushions were soaked.
"Who the fuck is gonna come anyway?" he muttered to the empty room.
He wrapped his fist around his shaft—nine thick, veined inches—and started stroking. Slow at first. Then faster.
"Sasha... fuck, I fucked you so good... wanna do it again... that tight massive ass bouncing on my cock... come home quick, sis... let me ruin you again..."
He switched hands, slick with pre-cum, imagining Blair’s pierced nipples in his mouth while Sasha sat on his face.
"Blair—you too... let’s have a threesome... I’ll fuck you both until you can’t walk... I’ll ruin those pretty little cunts... ooh you’ll see... you’ll scream my name—"
A sharp knock on the front door.
Leo froze—mid-stroke, cock pulsing in his fist.
The door swung open without waiting for an answer.
Raven stood there.
His stepmother.
Thirty-eight and devastating.
Tight black dress hugging every lethal curve—waist cinched impossibly small, hips flaring into an ass so thick it strained the fabric, breasts so massive they threatened to spill over the low neckline with every breath. Long dark hair loose, brown eyes always carrying that sleepy, slutty glint—like she was perpetually one bad decision away from dropping to her knees.
She froze too.
Leo—naked, cock in hand, mid-jerk—stared back at her.
"Ahem," she said softly.
Leo scrambled upright, hands flying to cover himself, yanking at his discarded sweatpants.
"Y-you came home early," he stammered, face burning.
Raven tilted her head, lips curving just slightly.
"It’s eight p.m., sweetheart. I always get home around now." She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. "Your father told you, right?"
"About what, Mother Raven?"
She sighed, setting her purse on the entry table.
"We’re getting divorced."
Leo blinked. "What?"
"It’s been coming for a while. I thought I should tell you in person." She walked closer—heels clicking softly on the hardwood. "It’s up to you where you want to stay. With me, with him, or... wherever. I’ll still treat you like my own. You know that."
Leo swallowed. His cock—still traitorously hard—twitched under the half-pulled-up sweatpants.
"What about Father?"
"Don’t worry about him." Raven’s voice hardened just a fraction. "He’s probably balls-deep in some twenty-something right now. He never cared about family. Or me." A bitter little laugh. "God, how badly I wanted a child from him. He never gave me one."
Leo whispered before he could stop himself.
"He must’ve been scared it’d ruin your perfect body."
Raven’s eyes snapped to his.
"What?"
"Nothing," Leo said quickly, forcing a smile. "I... I made dinner. You should shower. I’ll set the table."
Raven studied him for a long moment—those brown eyes unreadable—then nodded.
She walked past him toward the stairs, hip brushing his arm.
Then she paused.
Turned back.
Stepped close.
And hugged him.
Tight.
His face smashed directly into the deep valley of her cleavage—soft, warm, smelling like expensive vanilla and warm skin. Leo froze. Didn’t pull away.
Raven held him tighter.
Leo’s hands—instinct, pure animal instinct—slid down her back... and landed on her ass.
Massive. Soft. Overflowing his palms even through the dress.
He hesitated.
She didn’t move.
So he squeezed.
Gently at first.
Then harder.
Fingers digging into the thick flesh, kneading like dough.
Raven exhaled—a soft, shaky sound—against his hair.
But then she pulled back.
"Okay," she murmured, voice husky. "That’s enough for now."
She turned and walked upstairs without another word.
