Traffic Girl Ch. 03

Author's Note: This is the third in an ongoing series. I highly recommend reading the earlier chapters. This chapter continues a theme with a character who has a boyfriend and is cheating on him. It also introduces drug use, which will be recurring. Please avoid if these offend you. I appreciate constructive criticism and feedback. Thank you for reading!

* * *

I got back to my apartment just after 4 a.m., and I was buzzing like I hadn't in a long time. There was an unexpected yet obvious quality to all of it. In two months, Kat Freely had gone from a fringe social media acquaintance at the periphery of my thoughts to... what? As I showered and tried to focus on the work day ahead, my thoughts kept wandering back to Kat. I worried that perhaps it was a one-time thing, and it surprised me how vehemently I recoiled at the idea. How many one-night stands have there been in the last ten years alone? Dozens. I shook it all off. I had work to focus on. I checked my watch, intent on going into the office early, and saw it was 4:57 a.m. I turned on the TV and tuned it to KBRK. I took my coffee and sat down on the couch, waiting for the first traffic report.

A couple live, local, late-breaking headlines later, on came Kat Feely. She beamed, looking cheerful and collected in a blue dress, her hands animated as she talked about the building rush hour. I felt my cock stir. I knew what was under that dress. I thought of my cum, pooled in the crotch of the black thong she had put on barely an hour ago. Had she really left it on? Was she really so naughty that she went to work wearing cum-filled panties? I loved the idea. I unzipped my dress slacks and fished out my cock. Just hearing her voice, even if it was innocuous traffic information, made me hard. So recently, she had been impaled on my dick, begging me to fill her. Was her ass still pink from the spanking, I wondered? It wasn't long before I shot another load. I zipped up and put my mind's focus back to work, and it hit me. Kat Feely had all the power. I didn't even have her phone number.

* * *

It didn't occur to me until later that, of course, there were messaging functions on Instagram and Facebook. Even then, I didn't have to wait very long. Kat wrote me a DM on Instagram the following Monday. We met for a drink the next day at a popular, trendy happy hour spot. She came with a couple girlfriends. I sat at the bar. She ordered drinks, conveniently standing next to me. The wait for drinks was long. Our chatting wasn't out of place. She sketched out some basic parameters she had been thinking about and asked me to think about them. She said she'd reach out to me again on Instagram with the number from a burner text message app we could use to chat when we wanted.

Her proposal was that we meet once or twice a week. For now, it would be the early mornings, mostly mid-week and always at her place, following the same protocol we had used the first time. We could chat via the text app. She hinted that we had a lot to talk about, and I was eager to do so. Kat's drinks came, and she was gone, back to chatting and laughing with her foodie girlfriends as if nothing were amiss. I finished my drink and left. As I walked out, I noticed her boyfriend had joined them. I smiled to myself. He looked like a goofy motherfucker for sure.

The wait for Kat's message wasn't long. It came while I slept the next morning, as she woke up and got ready for work. She was full of excitement, and it made me feel confident and good. She apologized in advance if she went silent. She said she would delete the app any time she would be with her boyfriend. She asked if I was free the next day for another quickie, then launched into a litany of details and fantasies she wanted to share. I read and reread the long missive. And I started got increasingly excited about the possible debauchery here.

"John -- I can't believe how genuinely I know I can trust and explore with you already. I know it took a bit of a leap of faith on your part to go along with things, but I envision this becoming a regular affair. There are, however, some things you should know about me.

"I have no intention of leaving my boyfriend. We don't need to talk about it. We can if you want. Suffice to say, I have needs. I bury these deep down for various reasons, many of which you probably can guess. Some people scuba dive. Others jump out of airplanes or drive fast. The thrills I crave are different. I love sexual risk. Feeling your cum inside me last week? Was the most exhilarating rush I've had in years. You can't imagine how excited I was, having your cum in my panties. My pussy was throbbing all day wanting more. I haven't indulged this side of me since I joined KBRK. Before then, I mostly reserved the slutty side of me to vacations, which I specifically chose to indulge these urges.

"This won't all be limited to my apartment. We just have to be careful. You'd be surprised at all the things we'll be able to do. Did you know I wear a butt plug to work, on the air, at least once a week? I can spend a whole day in bed playing with my Hitachi wand, but I have craved real encounters but couldn't have them until now. And now I'm afraid I won't be able to stop.

"There is part of me that craves an increasing level of risk and adventure. I've always been this way. Pushing limits. Pushing my vices and experiments. All you need to know, though, is that my body is not a temple. It is an amusement park. And it is yours. -- Kat"

To me, it was a masterful appeal, equal parts flattering and mysterious. The next day couldn't come fast enough. I had to take melatonin to ensure I fell asleep early enough. When my alarm went off at 3 a.m., I showered and put on my jogging clothes. The walk to Kat's apartment was peppered with a hop in my step. She opened the door, hiding behind it as usual, but this time was completely naked. We melted into a kiss before she backed away, letting me admire her. She put two fingers into her pussy and showed off her wet, stringing juices before raising them to my lips and coating them in her arousal. I licked my lips and smiled.

"You taste so sweet," I said.

She smiled and said, "I get so wet thinking about your dick. I need it in me." She bent over the couch in the living room, spreading her cheeks to put her soaking pussy on irresistible display. "Don't be gentle," she said. "And I haven't done my hair yet."

I simply stepped out of my shorts and entered her completely with a single thrust. I began thrusting rapidly, ferociously and crudely took a handful of ass cheek before giving her a firm smack that left a glowing pink hand print. She yelped and urged me, "Harder." I obliged, then let a hand roam, cupping a breast and tweaking her nipple firmly, before moving a hand down her abdomen and rubbing her clit briefly. My hand trailed up her back before I took a firm grip of her dirty blonde hair and yanked her head back, my cock never losing a beat as it pistoned in and out of her pussy. She moaned as I pulled her head to me and sloppily licked and kissed her neck and delicate collarbone.

"Yes! Fuck yes!" she moaned.

I released her hair and moved my hand around her neck and squeezed. She bucked against my thrusts more eagerly. Totally compliant. An absolute fuck doll. Her magic pussy never stopped its soaking, velvety assault on my cock.

"I own you," I growled. "This is my cunt, you slut."

"Yes! Yes, sir!" she exclaimed. Her breath became shallow, and her panting indicated her orgasm building. I fucked her even faster, not relenting for a moment, until I felt her abdominal muscles contract and her pussy spasm. Her moans took off into the stratosphere, and I joined her as a wave of juice gushed from her pussy, flowing down my cock and her thighs.

It was all so hot, I felt the urgency in my balls far too soon. "Jesus, Kat, you're going to make me cum," I shouted.

"Fuck that's so hot," she said, pushing more of her weight into the sofa. "Just fucking fill me."

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the absurd eroticism of the situation. Had it even been ten minutes since I walked in the door? I just let myself go. "Oh, god, here it comes," I said. It was as if I couldn't control it at all. I exploded, and it struck me how hot it was to hear the pure and ecstatic, "Yes, baby!" Kat uttered when the first spurts hit her. I drove my cock in as far as it could, wanting her to feel the warmth spread into her cervix.

We were panting. I grabbed a handful of ass again as she stood up and turned around. Her eyes were on fire with hunger as she moved to kiss me.

"I'm on fire," she said. "You really do own me."

I kissed her back, moving an open hand down between her legs, placing it underneath her pussy. "Squeeze it out," I whispered to her in a firm tone. She obeyed. My palm filled with my creamy spunk and her juices. I lifted it to her mouth and told her to taste me. She lapped it up with quick flicks of her tongue, her eyes locking on mine."

"You're like a Kitty Kat when you're being a slut like this," I said. "The regular Good Kat during the day and my naughty Kitty Kat at night."

She gave a soft moan and showed me the cum before she swallowed. "I like that," she said and paused. "You have no idea how bad I've needed this." She moved to kiss me, then pulled back.

"I don't mind," I said. "Kiss me. You have no idea what a filthy fucker I am."

We embraced and made out like teenagers. I glanced at my watch. Our time was almost up. She knew it, too.

"That was so hot," Kat said.

"I like to be in control," I told her.

"I need to be controlled," she said. "Within reason."

I laughed and changed the subject. "I have no idea how you're going to go straight to work right now. I might need a nap."

She smiled her TV smile and said, "Well, I confess, it might be impossible. But maybe I handle it by being a Kitty Kat more often than you might think."

I raised my eyebrows, trying to figure out what she was hinting at.

She took my hand and led me to the bedroom. "I'll let you in on a really big secret," she said. "No judgment, okay?"

I nodded. "I'm not in a position to judge."

She directed me to her bathroom, where the lights were on and a pink dress hung above nude heels awaiting the work day. She stroked my chest affectionately, and I realized I had left my shirt on. She stood up on her tip-toes and drew my eyes to follow hers. I did, and she said, "Two lines a day keep the cobwebs away." My eyes found the mirror with two neat lines of cocaine cut on it and a sturdy, stainless steel straw next to them indicating this was nothing casual.

Kat looked at me with some nervousness betrayed on her face. She bit her lip and hastily added, "It's all right to be a little bit of a party girl, right?"

I smiled, broadly and genuinely. "I have always loved a party girl," I said, grabbing her chin to pull her in for a kiss.