Living with my PORNSTAR sisters-Chapter 9: A Mutual Addiction

The girl took one shaky step toward the door, cheeks burning crimson under that gorgeous brown skin.

"Sorry, I should leave," she mumbled, voice barely above a whisper, already reaching for the handle.

Leo’s hand shot out before he could think.

He caught her wrist—gentle, but firm enough that she froze.

"Aah—sorry," he stammered, pulse thundering in his ears. His cock was so hard it hurt, straining painfully against the thin sweatpants, the outline obscene and impossible to hide. "Well... what’s your name at least? I should know my neighbor’s name, right?"

Her eyes flicked down—then widened. She saw it. The massive bulge. The way the fabric tented forward like it was trying to break free. Her breath hitched audibly.

"Lana," she whispered, almost too quiet to hear. "It’s... Lana."

Leo released her wrist like it burned him.

"Sorry," he croaked again, stepping back, face flaming.

Lana didn’t say another word.

She turned—fast—and hurried out.

But as she walked away, that thick, curvy ass jiggled with every hurried step, cheeks bouncing hypnotically under the baggy cargos like they had a mind of their own. The motion was pure sin. Leo’s mouth watered. Literally watered. He stood there in the open doorway like a starving animal, heart slamming so hard he felt it in his throat, drool actually pooling at the corner of his lip.

He watched until she disappeared around the corner of the hallway.

Then he slammed the door shut, leaned against it, and groaned low in his chest.

"Fuck."

He stumbled back to the living room, collapsed onto the sofa—right on the warm spot where she’d sat minutes earlier. The cushion still held the faint heat of her body. He could smell her—something sweet and musky, like vanilla body oil mixed with nervous arousal.

His hand moved on autopilot.

He shoved his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock. It slapped heavily against his stomach—thick, veined, angry-red, leaking steadily from the tip. He grabbed the bottle of moisturizer from the coffee table (the same one Blair liked to use after anal), squirted a thick glob into his palm, and wrapped his fist around his shaft.

He stroked once—slow, slick, imagining Lana’s fat ass cheeks spread wide in front of him.

"Goddamn," he hissed. "That ass... I just wanna bury my face in it. Lick that tight little hole while those thick thighs shake around my ears. Fuck, Lana—"

He tried to jerk off properly—fast, hard, chasing release—but it felt empty. Hollow. His hand wasn’t enough. Not after Blair and Sasha. Not after breaking beds and tasting real pussy.

He glanced at the throw pillow beside him—soft, gray, innocent.

"Fuck it."

He grabbed it, tore a rough hole in the seam with shaking fingers, lined his slick cock up, and pushed inside.

The fabric gripped him—tight, dry at first, then warming with friction and moisturizer. He groaned, hips bucking.

"Lana," he growled, thrusting harder. "Scream for me, Lana. Scream while I fuck you. Ahhh—your ass—fuck, I wanna lick your pussy too. Spread those fat cheeks and tongue-fuck that pretty brown cunt. Show me, Lana—show me everything—aaah—"

He fucked the pillow like it was her—deep, punishing strokes, balls slapping the cushion, moaning her name louder and louder.

Outside, just beyond the closed door, Lana hadn’t left.

She’d stopped two steps down the hall—back pressed to the wall, thighs clenched, heart racing. She could hear everything. Every wet thrust. Every filthy word. Every time he growled her name like a prayer and a curse.

Her hand slipped inside her cargos—past the waistband, under the thin thong she’d worn to "blend in." Two fingers plunged straight into her soaked pussy.

"Aah—yes—fuck me—"

She fingered herself frantically—curling, pumping, thumb grinding her swollen clit—matching his rhythm through the door. Her other hand cupped one heavy breast through the hoodie, pinching her nipple hard.

"Leo—fuck—harder—fuck me harder—"

They were both lost—screaming each other’s names through the thin barrier of wood and drywall.

"Lana—gonna cum in this tight little ass—gonna fill you up—"

"Yes—yes—cum in me—Leo—!"

Suddenly—silence from inside.

Lana froze, fingers buried deep, pussy clenching around them.

The door flew open.

Leo stood there—pants around his thighs, cock still rock-hard and glistening with moisturizer and pre-cum, chest heaving.

Lana stood frozen in the hallway—pants shoved down to mid-thigh, hoodie rucked up, fingers slick and shining between her spread legs, long black-and-gold hair wild around her flushed face.

They stared at each other.

No words.

Just heavy breathing. Drool at the corner of Leo’s mouth. Lana biting her lower lip so hard it might bleed.

Leo took one step forward.

Lana took one step back—instinct, nerves—but her eyes never left his cock.

He closed the distance in two strides.

Grabbed her by the waist—hard, possessive—yanked her against him.

Then he buried his face in her chest.

The hoodie was loose; he shoved it up with his nose, found one massive, soft breast, and sucked the dark nipple into his mouth like a man dying of thirst. He sucked hard—teeth grazing, tongue swirling—while his other hand squeezed the twin, marveling at the weight, the fullness, the way it overflowed his palm.

Lana moaned—high, broken, legs trembling.

Leo pulled back just enough to look at her—eyes dark, pupils blown.

"Just wanted to see how big they are," he rasped, voice wrecked. "And fuck... they’re massive."

He released her waist.

Stepped back.

Cock still throbbing between them, dripping.

"That’s enough for now," he said, almost gently. "You can go."

Lana stood there—face scarlet, lips swollen, drooling slightly down her chin, thighs slick with her own arousal, nipples hard and glistening from his mouth.

She didn’t move for a long heartbeat.

Then she slowly—shakily—pulled her cargos back up, tugged the hoodie down, and turned.

But before she walked away, she looked back over her shoulder.

Eyes glittering.

Lips curved in the tiniest, filthiest smile.

"Next time," she whispered, "don’t stop at just looking."

Then she was gone—thick ass swaying down the hall, leaving Leo standing in the doorway with his cock out, heart pounding, and the taste of her skin still on his tongue.

The door clicked shut behind her.

But something told him it wouldn’t stay closed for long.