Starlee's Rent

Sarah sat back on the living room couch holding her cup of tea and enjoying the peace. This was one of the increasingly rare evenings when her daughter and her friends had not taken over the television with a stream of Kardashians and celebrity gossip shows, when the girl was not pawing through her refrigerator demanding to know whether there was anything good to eat—not that anyone would ever dream of helping her fix a meal or even warm perfectly good leftovers, when she was not begging her for a ride somewhere when an eighteen-year-old girl—woman, if you think about it!—with her own driver's license should be perfectly capable of borrowing the family car and returning it in one piece with a tank full of gas. Oh, and of course begging for money to go out with her bubble-headed friends. Her head was already throbbing just trying to understand how one girl could go through that many minimum wage jobs in less than a year. How much effort and skill does it take to ask whether one would like fries with that.

Sarah sipped her tea and looked up at the wall clock. Seven o'clock, and Becky was out of the house for the night. She left an hour ago with Reilly and Summer, two former schoolmates who seemed to be on the same path, god help their parents. At least this meant she would have a quiet evening, just her and her husband Alan. Well, not likely to be quiet for long. With the house usually full of 18 and 19-year-old girls, they got almost no time alone. This was a rare night she didn't have a church council meeting, Homeowner's Association meeting, or organizing committee meeting. And with Becky finally out of high school—by the skin of her teeth, to be honest—her days of soccer league fundraisers, bake sales, and PTA meetings are finally over. Tonight, she just wanted to take Alan to the bedroom, draw the curtains, lock the door, and make a little noise.

No sooner had she taken another sip and let a wry smile cross her lips than Alan walked in with the mail. She was about to grab his ass, an ass he has kept tight and muscular all these years and for which she was thankful when she thought of how her friends and neighbors had let themselves go after forty, but she saw he looked a bit concerned.

"What's wrong, darling?" she asked.

"Oh, probably nothing. There was just an envelope in the mailbox with no stamp or return address."

"Another solicitation for driveway sealing or landscapers, most likely. You know, they are not supposed to put those in the mailbox itself. It's tampering with the post, I believe."

"Maybe, but it has our names handwritten on the front so it's not a bulk flyer." He opened the envelop and unfolded single sheet of paper. "What?" he muttered. "Listen to this:

Dear Sarah and Alan,

I write this to you as a concerned friend. There is something you both deserve to know, and I do not know the words to tell you or how I would ever make you believe me if I said it out loud. Instead, I ask that you both sit down, brace yourselves, and open this link. ... Okay, it's a link but through a bit.ly proxy so I don't know what it is... You may not want to see this, but you do need to see it. Make your own decisions from there and know we will be with you in spirit.

Sincerely,

A Deeply Concerned Friend."

"Alan," said Sarah, shaking her head, "we either have serious problem or that must be the most elaborate, convoluted spam mail I have ever received without a Nigerian prince on the other end. Do you even want to open the link? What if it's something horrible? What if we get Rick Rolled?"

"Very funny, Sarah. Someone went to the of trouble of typing this and slipping it into our box, and I kind of want to know what it's about."

"Maybe. But what if one of the partners in the firm sent one of those awful gross-out links as a joke. I wouldn't put it past Steve. He understands neither humor nor boundaries."

"No, he wouldn't make it look ominous like this if he wanted you to open it. He would just make it look like a link to a gardening Pintrest or something."

"Alan, I have other interests you know. But, you're right. That lot isn't going to think three steps ahead just for a stupid gag. Well, let's get it over with."

They both pulled up chairs in front of the family computer, opened a browser, and typed in the link. As his finger hovered over the Enter button, Alan paused and effected a stern and far-away look. "Are we suitably prepared for whatever horrors or wonders might—"

"Alan, just get on with it. My tea is getting cold."

He clicked and when he did the link redirected to a page filled with ads for Hot Singles Near You, All-natural Male Enhancement Pills, and cam girl ads. Spam, he thought to himself and was about to click the close button when he saw it. The sharp intake of breath from his wife told him she saw it too. The face in the center top below the rows of porn ads was... Becky? No, it couldn't be. This was an elaborate prank. It had to be...

"Alan... What is this about? I just..."

The page was filled with rows of tiny pictures of Becky. It was laid out like a Pornstar page on PornHub. It certainly looked like a Pornstar page on PornHub, and those certainly looked like links to porn videos staring their daughter. But it couldn't be. Becky was barely out of high school. She was bouncing from minimum wage job to minimum wage job unwilling to buckle down and take responsibility because she just wanted to party. She just kept hoping being pretty and pouting would let her get whatever she wanted in life. Oh my god, he just described every teenager who goes into porn.

While they sat there confused, looking for "Gotcha" to pop up or some evidence that this was an elaborate Photoshop fake, the first video opened started playing. A young woman who certainly looked like Becky and had brown hair with frosted tips like Becky and a green Hollister t-shirt like Becky appeared on screen. A gravelly voice offscreen told me, "Show me them titties!" Oh, no. Not one of those, Alan and Sarah both thought to themselves. The girl, who absolutely could not be their daughter, took off her top and waved her breasts at the camera. Alan would never admit it, but those did look like Becky's tits. Not that he would ever look of his own volition, but damn it she walked around the house half naked, and when he told her to put some clothes on she just laughed and called him old. The camera pulled back as she spread her legs and started fingering herself.

"There!" Alan shouted definitively. "That's not Becky. That girl has a tattoo. Our Becky doesn't have a tattoo." He pointed at a small tattoo on the girl's mons.

"Becky has a tattoo," said Sarah, flatly.

"No. Really? No. Since when?"

"She told me. She has a tattoo. A purple butterfly. She said, 'Don't tell Daddy, but...' Of the things that girl gets up to, I didn't think a tattoo would be worth a second thought. And before you ask, I didn't know where it was."

"Did you know about this?" he asked, shocked.

"No, dear. I most certainly did not know about this."

"Are you sure that's her tattoo? Maybe it could be purple. Is that a butterfly. It's too small to tell."

The both leaned close to the monitor trying to see the tattoo, completely not cognizant of the fact they were almost certainly squinting at their daughter pleasuring herself."

The camera suddenly zoomed in on her pussy. "Whoa! Yes. Yes, that is definitely a purple butterfly. That is our Becky."

They both sat there in silence. Looking at each other and at the screen and back at each other. "Alan," said Sarah quietly. "We could have saved ourselves some trouble. Over here in the the stats." She pointed to the side of the screen. "Tattoos: 1 - pussy - purple butterfly."

"That would have been good to have noticed a minute ago. And this, too. Her name is... Starlee Night. No, Becks. No."

"Do you think she picked it herself?" Sarah wondered. "I guess she must have. There isn't some National Board of Pornstar Names doling them out. But, really? Starlee Knight?"

The video continued while they were discussing her choice of name. A male performer had appeared on screen, held her ankles apart, and thrust his cock into her. This was the point where they should have just turned off the computer and wondered at the hand fate dealt them. They had seen what they needed to see, what some anonymous friend thought they needed to see. They now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that their little girl had grown up to be a porn star. But instead, they were transfixed. They wouldn't admit it, but there they were looking at some random man fucking their 19 year old daughter for all the world to see. She was moaning and writhing and begging him to destroy her little pussy with his big hard cock, and not entirely convincingly. The dialog certainly did not help. They were still trying to find the words. While Sarah clicked her tongue and struggled to express what she was feeling right then, the man pulled out his cock and came in thick ropes all over their daughter's belly.

Sarah took the mouse and scrolled through the page. Video after video. "How long as this been going on?" she asked herself out loud. "I know these girls make a lot of movies in a short period, Alan, but there is no way she has just been working at a movie theatre concession. How many times did she lie to our faces and say she just didn't get enough hours that week and could she have twenty dollars here or fifty dollars there. What has she been doing all this time?"

Alan was still dazed by this revelation. He pointed to the screen. It was obvious what she has been doing. She has been having people film her having sex. She was a porn star. "Um. That... That one says 'facial'." His face flushed red as soon as he heard himself say it.

Sarah stifled a laugh and completely misunderstood what he meant. "Very well, Alan. Fine. Let's watch some random man cum all over our little girl's face." Sarah was actually intrigued. She was no prude, despite the facade she had cultivated over the years, but she would never have the nerve to perform like this. She was the tiniest bit jealous of her daughter's freedom. "After all, the last one only got her stomach."

"That's not what I meant," he muttered, but she had already clicked. Becky was on her knees with a gigantic cock in her mouth. She licked and sucked it enthusiastically. She took his balls in her mouth on at a time while she stroked it an then wrapped her lips around the head again. "I love your big hard cock!" she shouted.

Alan was feeling even more nervous and just couldn't stop talking. "This clips just start in the middle of the action. Like there is no lead up or anything."

"It's pornography, dear, not Shakespeare. There is no dramatic buildup." She reached over to pat his knee for reassurance. When she looked over she saw the bulge growing in his pants as he stared at the screen. "Are you getting aroused watching our daughter?"

"What? No! I— I—" he waved and sputtered at the screen but didn't look away.

"It's okay. You would have to be dead not to. She is beautiful and it seems quite skilled at what she does. Or at least very eager, which counts for a great deal." She wanted to pretend to be shocked, and maybe she should be horrified by all this, from the anonymous letter to their discovery to the fact that they were both were both still her watching. Instead, it was kind of exciting.

Becky tried to swallow the huge, vein-covered monster, but it was too big for her. Instead she licked the head and pumped the shaft into her mouth. He grunted and thrusted his hips. "Oh, yeah. You like my big hard dick. You suck that dick." She bobbed her head up and down on it. He pulled out of her mouth and she lay back with her smiling face up towards his cock, her fingers rubbing her clit. A few seconds later jet after jet of cum covered her face. The camera zoomed in on her semen covered face and she turned left and right to show how well he covered her before the screen went dark and the next movie began to play.

Sarah realized she had been stroking her husband's cock through his pants the whole time. She scrolled down the page looking for more. She didn't bother to ask what her husband thought of further exploration into their daughter's secret career. She could feel in her hand exactly how he felt about watching her movies, and why ask the question just to make him feel like he had to lie about what he wanted. "I'm looking for a girl-girl scene," she told him as she scrolled through.

"I didn't know she did girls."

"They all do girls, Alan. Ah, here is one." She opened a POV video where she had her face buried in an older woman's pussy. Older in porn years meaning maybe 25. They couldn't see as much from this angle, but she was licking and sucking the woman's clit while pushing her fingers into her pussy. After a few minutes they changed positions and the woman began to eat her from behind instead. They had a perfect view of their daughter's ass and pussy as the woman's tongue spread her lips and licked her hole. Without looking away Sarah unbuttoned Alan's a pants and slid her hand inside. As she stroked his cock, she slide her other hand into her own pants and circled a finger around her clit. "You know, I haven't had that in years. I love you dear, but sometimes I see a beautiful young woman with firm breasts and a high, tight ass and I just wish I could strip her naked, lay her down, and bury my face in her.... Did I say that out loud?"

"It's all right. I see how you look at your yoga instructor. And that barista. And my last secretary, who by the way I didn't think was your type, but I guess I could see it. Anyway, I can't blame you. Her pussy does look delicious. I mean, she looks like you and your pussy is delicious. You can't help but wonder..."

Sarah clicked on another video, this time of Becky being fucked from behind while she sucks another cock in front of her. She stroked Alan is rock hard in his pants. Her pussy was sopping wet watching their daughter. They both knew where this was going, but someone had to make the first move. She lifted her hips and slid her suburban-mom-jeans down and knelt on the floor in front of her husband. He looked he down at her but she told him to keep watching. Sarah peeled off his pants and watched his cock spring to attention in font of her. She took him in her mouth and listened to the sound of her daughter moaning, her mouth and pussy both filled up on the screen. When his cock was wet and ready, she climbed on top of him. He kept watching Becky on the screen as she slid down on his cock. "Oh, Sarah..." he whispers.

"Shh. I'm Starlee," Sarah whispered in his ear. "No, Becky. Call me Becky, daddy." She slid her pussy up and down on his cock. "I hope I'm as tight as you always imagined, Daddy. Are you going to fuck your little girl now."

"Oh, yes, baby. I'm fucking your tight pussy. Just like you always wanted when you are strutting around the house half naked" Sarah bounced up and down on his cock in the same rhythm as the cocks that were fucking their daughter on the screen. "Yes, baby. Ride daddy's hard cock."

"Are you going to cum for me, daddy? Are you going to cum in my tight young pussy?"

"Of course, sweetheart. I know you want to feel your daddy's cum inside your pussy." Sarah knew her husband's movements. He was already on edge from watching video after video of their little girl being fucked right in front of them. And now having his "little girl" right there on top of him was pushing him over. She rubbed her clit with two fingers while holding onto "daddy"'s neck with the other.

"Cum for me, daddy," she whispered. "Cum for your little girl." She bore down on his cock and on her clit "Yes. Fuck your daughter like you always wanted to. Fuck your daughter hard and fill her with your cum." Alan thrusted his hips hard, practically throwing Sarah into the air. His cock exploded inside her, and the feeling of his cum and knowing how he thought about their Becky sent waves of ecstasy through her.

The two of them collapsed on the couch, their daughter's next video just starting on the screen in front of them. "Now what are we going to do about this whole 'Starlee' situation?" Alan asked.

---

The next afternoon, after Becky had a chance to roll in from wherever she had been, nap, shower, paw around the refrigerator for lunch and complain that there was never anything good in this house, and finally lock herself in her room, Alan and Sarah knocked on her bedroom door. They had to have a talk with their daughter.

"Who is it?" she asked in a sing-song.

"It's the only two other people who live here," her mother replied in kind.

"Hold on." They heard her rustle around the room and open the door.

"May we come in?" Sarah asked but she walked past her without waiting for a response. This room had not changed in years, just gotten messier. Sarah had the foolish dream of being able to transform this room into a yoga studio after Becky moved out, but instead the girl stayed at home and fiddled around with this or that job she couldn't keep and ran around with her friends all hours. The walls were still decorated with pictures of musicians no one over the age of 20 would have cared to know and the shelves were filled with her old soccer trophies.

"Um, sure. Have a seat I guess." Becky, never one for modest dress these days, was wearing a low cut crop top and daisy duke shorts cut so high the bottoms of her ass cheeks were hanging out. There was no point in complaining since she would just throw a hissy fit about how she is a grown woman and how dare they.

"Oh, thank you. How kind of you to offer a seat you your father and I in the house that we ourselves own. No, I apologize. I don't want to start this at loggerheads. We will all speak civilly like adults. But, oh no, are you dressed for work, dear."

"No," she replied slowly. It was obvious her mother was up to something and had her dad to back her up. "I'm not on today. I'm just hanging out."

"Wonderful. We'd hate to have to start and stop and pick this up later. So much easier to rip the band-aid off all at once if you will. Your father and I have been talking. You graduated school over a year ago. We have been happy to have you still living here at an age when so very many of your peers have moved on to college or careers or otherwise independent, grown-up living, but, well, the thing is you don't really contribute as much as one might otherwise expect of a woman your age."

"Okay... Wait. What are you saying?"

"Rent, Becks," her father told her. "You don't pay any rent and we are tired of you living here for free."

"Oh, yeah, about that," she began. "I totally want to get my own place or whatever, but money is like really, really tight. My bitch boss won't give me the hours at work and then there was that trip to Las Vegas with Reilly—"

"Oh yes," Sarah stopped her. "Looking back, wasn't that the same weekend as the AVN Awards? What a funny coincidence."

"How do you know when... um, anyway, that trip cost more than I budgeted. I'm really just trying to save something before I move out—"

"Oh, of course," Sarah continued. "We would never dream of derailing your carefully planned financial future. You father an I have just been discussing ways for you to pay your fair share other than a simple cash rent."

"You mean like with chores and stuff like when I twelve?" she said, horrified and rallying for an indigent shout about how she is a grown woman now and not a child.

"Oh, no, dear. We mean with your pussy," her mother replied with a dismissive wave.

"Or your mouth," her dad chimed in. "Or your ass. Does she do anal?"

"Oh, I'm sure Starlee Knight will do anal for her dear old mom and dad," said Sarah. "Yes, honey, we know about Starlee Knight. It's okay. We're not mad that you are working in porn. In fact, I think it's fair to say your father and I have become instant fans of your work. Goodness, we must have been up half the night watching you get reamed by dozens of men—sometimes two or three at a time—and lap at a busload of tight young pussies and a few that were not so young, which to be honest got my own mind going. Oh, and what am I saying? Of course you do anal. Alan, we must have watched that video of that bald tattooed man bouncing her asshole on his cock at least three times.