“Paris is pretty. So I have a question.”
“For me?” she says in a little bit of surprise but also excitement. Rose is the knower-of-all-things, so I usually go to her with questions, but Lily is easier to talk to. When she has time to talk to me, that is.
“Yeah,” I say easily. “So what’s a good porn site that won’t crash my computer?”
There’s a long pause over the phone. She hesitates. “I don’t know if…”
“Please.” I hear the desperation in my voice. I glance at the clock, at each entrance to my room, and my heart accelerates. “I won’t tell anyone that you told me.” I think she just doesn’t want me to turn out like her, especially since the media keeps saying I’m a little mini-Lily, with no other proof than dissecting my brief relationships with guys. I am young and more promiscuous than the average eighteen-year-old, but I don’t enjoy sex like Lily. I’ve slept with a lot of guys because I’m trying to figure out how to do it right and to find the right one to do it with.
Now that doesn’t seem as important in my life. Well, it wasn’t until Ryke said we both needed to date more. I honestly just want a good night’s sleep.
“I’ll text it to you,” she whispers a little dramatically. I can imagine her glancing back at Lo and reddening. I instantly smile.
“Thanks. Talk to you later?”
“Yeah. I’ll try to call more, but the time difference…”
“I know, it sucks.”
“Love you, bye,” she tells me quickly before hanging up, probably distracted by Lo’s presence. In only a second, a text pings on my phone.
Kinkyme.net – Lily
I log into the porn site, and I click on the most popular video. It takes a couple seconds to load. The screen is black at first, only heavy breathing, both male and female. I click the “play” button, hoping an image will reveal itself soon because this isn’t doing anything for me.
Finally a picture surfaces.
Oh my God. A girl with silky brown hair is tied to a headboard by her wrists, her head tilted back in pleasure while a guy dominates her from the top.
But it’s not the position that’s freaking me out or the fact that it’s porn.
I know this girl. I know this guy.
It’s Rose and Connor.
Oh my God. Click out. Click out!! I try to press escape and leave these images behind, but it won’t disappear. A popup keeps flashing SUBSCRIBE! I don’t want to subscribe to my sister’s kinky sex videos with her husband!
They never even meant for these to hit the internet, so I highly doubt they’d be comfortable with what’s happening right now. Last year, they were screwed over by a producer who filmed their intimate bedroom sessions without their knowledge and put their videos online. Legal issues ensued, and what it boils down to is this: the videos are here to stay.
And now I have accidentally stumbled upon one of them.
I try not to look at the screen. I shut my eyes, close the computer, open it, and the video is still playing, the breathing is still heavy. I can hear and see everything. I fill in the subscription box, which seems to be the only solution right now.
As I type in a fake name and email address, I catch Connor slipping his fingers beneath Rose’s diamond studded collar. He lifts her head to meet his lips, and she lets out a sharp cry as he keeps thrusting between her legs with rough force. Then she comes. He pulls out to switch positions.
OH MY GOD! I have just seen Connor’s ginormous penis.
I am scarred forever.
Please, someone burn my eyes. I fill out the rest of my info, and I click and click.
It’s gone.
Thank you baby Jesus. It’s disappeared. I let out a breath. As if my world couldn’t be stranger—I have just seen my sister have sex with her husband. And she was tied to a headboard. I will never, ever look at Connor Cobalt the same way again. I think…I think I need rehab for this.
As I collect my sanity, a noise chimes from my laptop—a Skype call. Someone’s calling me?
The Caller Username: RYKE_MEADOWS
Not very creative, but it’s still very Ryke. Mine is flowerchild20, which seems almost obnoxiously colorful compared to his. I wonder if that’s how we are together—mismatched, uneven. Or maybe he’s the ying to my yang. Lame but maybe perfect for us.
The longer I stare at the incoming call, with his name, the more my stomach somersaults. I nearly had sex with another model tonight. I gave him a pretty horrible hand job. Should I really be talking to Ryke after that? It’s not like you’re together. He told you to date another guy. My conscience gives a good argument.