MY "BROTHER" KNEW I'M A PORNSTAR (III)
1090 Words
Chapter 3
I swallowed hard, blinking fast like that would somehow rewind the last thirty seconds and put everything back to normal.
My heart kept slamming against my ribs, so loud I was sure he could hear it.
No, no, no. He was just fantasizing about me, that had to be it.
There was no way he actually knew the girl getting double-f****d on his screen was me.
I had been doing this for years and nobody had ever figured it out.
I was not even embarrassed that he had caught me with my hand between my legs, with my fingers soaked and shaking.
I f****d on camera for a living.
Embarrassment was not in my vocabulary anymore, but the idea that Charles might know the face behind the cat mask? That made cold panic crawl up my spine.
I opened my mouth to speak, lie or say something, but nothing came out, my throat felt lined with sand.
“Why do you call my name?” I finally asked, my voice was really small.
He looked at me for a long second, then gave a short, awkward laugh.
“Why did I call your name?” He repeated the question.
I heard him say Aria. I know I did.
He bent down, snatched his boxers from the floor, and pulled them up in one quick move.
The waistband snapped against his stomach and that beautiful c**k disappeared behind black cotton.
I hated that cotton right now.
“You should have made some noise when you walked in,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes flicking anywhere but at me.
“Sorry you had to see that.”
Sorry? He was sorry?
I almost laughed, I had dressed like the sluttiest version of myself on purpose, my skirt barely covering my ass, my n*****s practically cutting glass through my top, and he was sorry.
I pulled my hand from between my thighs, fingers glistening, and wiped them on my hip without thinking, his gaze followed the motion and I saw his jaw tightened.
The television was still playing, my masked self was now riding one guy reverse cowgirl while the other one fed his c**k into my mouth from the front, the room smelled like s*x and shame with his c*m.
Charles reached for the remote on the coffee table, his thumb already on the power button.
“Let me turn this off.”
The screen went black for half a second, just long enough for the media player to show the file name before it closed.
And I saw a name displayed on the screen.
Thompson_Aria_4K_Private
My stomach dropped straight through the floor
He froze too, thumb still hovering over the button, his eyes wide like he had not meant for me to see that.
That's my really full name!
I moved before my brain caught up, I lunged forward, snatched the remote out of his hand, and stepped back fast, my pulse was roaring in my ears.
“Aria—” he started.
I ignored him and mashed the buttons until the folder opened again.
There were dozens of files, they all had my real name, some were the public releases, but a lot of them were the private ones, the ones I only shot for custom buyers, the ones where the mask slipped a little, where you could see the scar on my left hip, the birthmark just above my p***y, the tiny freckle on my inner thigh that nobody else in the world ever got close enough to notice.
Fuck! He had known for God knows how long.
I looked up at him slowly, he was staring at me, his chest rising and falling too fast, his hands half raised like he was trying to calm a spooked animal.
“Explain,” I said, my voice came out dangerously, I don't even know what was forming in me.
He licked his lips. “I… found out maybe eighteen months ago. One of the private clips leaked on a forum. The mask moved just enough to see your mouth, I knew that mouth, Aria, I spent years trying not to stare at it every time you bit your lip when you were annoyed at me.” His voice dropped slightly.
“Then I saw the scar on your hip in another video, the same exact place you got it falling off Daniel’s bike when we were 17 years old or something, After that it was easy to match the rest.”
I should have been furious, I should have been terrified, Instead heat rushed straight between my legs so hard my knees almost buckled.
He had been jerking off to me, knowing it was me, for eighteen f*****g months.
All those times I thought he was ignoring me, teasing me, flirting with other girls in front of me to piss me off.
He had been going home and watching me get f****d six ways from Sunday while he thought my name.
My n*****s ached, my p***y was throbbing again, even more wetter than before.
“ You're sick, f**k!” I breathed, but there was no venom in it, my voice shook with something else entirely.
He gave a helpless little shrug, like a man who had already accepted he was going to burn. “Yeah. I am.”
Silence stretched between us, and I let the remote fall to the rug.
Then I stepped forward until my t**s brushed his chest, he sucked in a sharp breath but he did not move.
If things is already going to this way, why bother pretend again?
“You have been watching me get f****d by other guys,” I said slowly, looking up at him through my lashes, “and stroking that big d**k to the thought of me the whole time?”
He nodded once, his throat working as he swallowed.
“ Don't nod, Charles. Say those words.”
“I have been obsessed with you,” he rasped. “Every single night, I could not c*m unless I was thinking about you, watching you, or hearing you moan.”
My hand moved on its own, I slid it down his stomach, over the waistband of his boxers, and wrapped my fingers around his c**k through the boxers.
He was already rock hard again, pulsing against my palm.
“Good,” I whispered. “Because I have spent years wanting this c**k inside me and pretending I hated you so nobody would guess.”
- Writer
