Traffic Girl - Juliet Ch. 38

Author's Note: This chapter is the first in a series of four. Each will feature John taking one of his girls on a romantic getaway. We start here with John and Rita flying off to Hawaii for an intimate and fun time. These will be long chapters, and my goal with them is to focus where each relationship is individually, which hopefully will provide more context for the group dynamic, as well. Please enjoy.

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Once Juliet shipped off to Vancouver to shoot her latest film, time started to pass faster than ever. Jess threw herself into the retooled Daydream Productions. Kayla essentially became a kind of creative director. Kim and Ginger were instrumental in replacing Manny with a new male lead -- a black sheep of the porn industry who had changed his name to the Sausage King. He had been a kind of male Sasha Grey at one time, but he squandered it. A few years on, he was comfortably ensconced doing porn and enjoying it. He was handsome, almost dashing, and highly dominant. But, unlike Manny, the dominance ended when the camera stopped rolling. He was a gentle, chill guy off the set. Perhaps most important of all? Kayla had agreed to work with him, the first time she would fuck someone other than Manny on camera in almost a decade.

I also put plans in motion that I had been organizing for several weeks. I wanted to reconnect with the girls individually, so I would take each of them on a one-on-one getaway. It would let us recharge but also plan for the future. Our group dynamic was a beautiful and improbable thing, but I also wanted to ensure we each maintained respective identities and desires. I wanted to be mindful of them and incorporate them into our joint lives.

The girls were enthusiastic about the idea. And we had decided that, once the individual trips were done, the five of us would take a weekend to get out of LA on a kind of family retreat. But that would be several weeks off, toward the end of summer. Then we'd welcome back Juliet from her shoot with a blowout party. And that would lead us right into football season, which would have some new developments. Infinity would be hosting football parties in LA, Vegas, and Houston. It promised new levels of debauchery, and there was generally buzz about Jamie and Bryce playing together in Vegas while they tried to dethrone Johnny and his Houston mates as conference heavyweights.

With so much planned, I tried to keep myself in the moment. I didn't want to watch the time tick by without savoring every day. So I pushed everything from the future out of my mind as a black Town Car pulled out of our driveway, the waving figures of Kat, Jess, Katie, and the kids standing at the top of the hill. As we left the real world behind, I turned and focused my attention solely on Rita.

"And we're off," I said, smiling and putting my face close to hers.

"I know it sounds terrible to say it," Rita said, "but I need this. Really badly."

"It's not bad," I said, fixing my gaze on her.

The stress of the previous several weeks didn't show on her face. Her skin was as smooth and taut as ever, barely a wrinkle in sight thanks to light Botox. Her lips were framed with a playful, pink lipstick, and her tongue flitted against her teeth as she spoke. Her neck remained smooth and youthful, inviting and alluring. But every part of Rita spoke to me that way. I worshiped her. I admired her. I loved her with every fiber of my being. Not that I loved her any more than my other girls. There was always a special, almost subatomic connection between us.

"I really just want to cut loose," she said. "To escape reality."

"Well, lucky you," I said. "Hawaii is the best place to do that."

"I've never been," she said, making a pouty lip.

"Give it about seven hours, and we'll change that," I said with a chuckle.

"Are you going to tell me the plan?" she asked.

I had told her our destination, but I kept under wraps the details. I loved surprises, especially travel surprises.

"On the plane," I said.

"I can wait that long," she said in a tone that indicated she was trying to convince herself. I loved her girlish excitement.

"Do you want a gummy?" I asked.

"Sure," she said. "I don't know why I'm nervous. I guess it's all the excitement. Can we get goodies in Hawaii? I'm ready to let my hair down. Big time."

"We don't need to get them," I said, grinning. I loved playing this game.

"John," Rita said, dropping her chin and screwing up her eyes to look at me. "You did not get us a private jet. To Hawaii."

"And what if I did?" I said.

"Then I'd say you're definitely getting laid," she said, her tongue flicking over her lips suggestively.

"Well, then it's a good thing this plane has a king-sized bed," I said.

"Wait, what?" she replied, doing a double take.

"I may have gone a little more extravagant than usual," I said with a sheepish smile.

"How extravagant?" Rita asked.

"Like, maybe, a 737 with a fully stocked bar and master bedroom extravagant?" I said.

Rita didn't answer. Her eyes simply grew and shock spread across her face.

"You've got to be joking," she said.

"You can find out in about fifteen minutes," I said.

"I hope you've got some molly in your bag of tricks, baby," she said, kissing me softly along the edge of my ear. "Not that you'll need it to get lucky."

"There's some molly," I said. "Some weed, some coke. Maybe more than some coke. And maybe something new even."

"Yes," she hissed between kisses that trailed down my neck. "I'm feeling very adventurous. I want to completely shed any inhibitions. But maybe we'll have a little time for sightseeing."

"I have a sneaking suspicion we might be able to couple some partying with sightseeing," I said knowingly.

Rita cuddled up against me contentedly for the final ten minutes of the ride to Burbank. I adored -- and felt privileged -- that I knew all 360-degrees of her as a person. She shared her fears and vulnerabilities with me. She let her guard down around me. She always made sure I knew her hopes, her goals, her dreams. She had become so much more than the public persona I had once seen on television, and I was lucky to be someone who got to glimpse more than just what anyone saw from the outside. Maybe most of all, however, I liked being privy to the intense need for intimacy and, sometimes, downright perversion that lurked inside her.

"Holy shit," she said, jarring me out of my revelry as we pulled near the tarmac.

The car came to a stop in front of a Boeing 737. It was part of their business jet program, and I couldn't help myself. It could seat up to twenty-three, but there would only be two of us, of course. The first surprise greeted us as soon as we walked up the steps to board.

"Welcome to snow bunny airways," Christy said, greeting us with a brilliant smile and erect nipples nearly bursting through the taut fabric of her white button-down shirt.

"Oh my god!" Rita said when she saw our longtime flight-attendant-turned-Infinity-girl. "I didn't know you were still flying!"

"My certification is still good," she said, biting her lip. "I came out of retirement when John asked me. How could I say no to Hawaii?"

The girls hugged tightly, then Christy gave me a hug and kiss hello.

"I'm sure we'll have some party favors around," Rita said as we boarded.

Christy smiled, flashing her white teeth, and said, "You know me. If I can't suck it? I'll snort it."

They laughed, and we settled in. Boarding on private flights never got old to me. Without fail, within ten minutes, we were in the air. And so there we were, climbing high above Burbank and greater Los Angeles, then rapidly pushing out over the Pacific Ocean. The flight to Kauai was roughly six hours, so we'd be on the ground about lunch time in Hawaii.

Rita glided around the plane, taking in every last detail of thoughtful luxury. But both of us had our attention drawn to the bar. It was unavoidable. It was huge and stocked to the brim with some of our favorites. I had Christy to thank for that. She was doing this as a favor to me, but she was also being paid handsomely.

"God, what should we start with?" Rita said, gushing over the selection of wine.

There were too many good things to sample, even on a six-hour flight.

"Champagne?" I suggested.

"Is that boring?" Rita asked. "We always drink Champagne."

"But we don't always drink Dom rosé," I said, holding up the distinctive, fat bottle with its shimmering and seductive pink-and-black label.

"I can't say no to that," Rita said.

I paused briefly and smiled at her. Her two-button tennis top barely held her tits, and the tan skin of her flat, smooth stomach peeked anytime she moved her arms above her waist. She wore black yoga pants that clung to her so tightly, I felt like I could see every curve and nuance of her body. They had an extraordinary way of showcasing her ass. I let myself take her in as I opened the Champagne by feel.

We sat down on a mocha-colored leather couch beside a polished, smooth burlwood tabletop. Rita tucked one of her legs underneath her backside and turned to me with eager eyes.

"Well?" she said. "I'm dying to know!"

"We're going to Kauai," I said with a grin. "We've got this superb suite at the Koloa Landing Resort. I figure that will be nice and secluded and let us just relax and enjoy the pool and the ocean. We'll spend a day at the spa, of course."

"This sounds beyond perfect," Rita said. I sensed the excitement in her voice. "I just want to be with you."

"And then one day, we're going to do something special," I said.

"What is it?" she asked.

"A surprise," I said. "I have to keep an ace up my sleeve."

"That's no fun," she said. "You told me you'd reveal it all on the plane!"

"I didn't say all of it," I said. "You know I want to keep surprising you. But it's something very, very special."

"More special than this?" Rita said, gesturing around at the plane.

"I think so," I said. "And I think you might, too."

"You're killing me, John," she said playfully.

A ping indicated we had reached cruising altitude.

"Well, let me distract you," I said, putting my Champagne glass on the table and getting up.

I walked into the bedroom at the other end of the cabin. Christy had put our luggage there and left out a small valise case that she knew was in my briefcase. I unzipped it and opened it, observing both halves. On one side was a large bag of marijuana, a handful of pills of molly, and a small baggie of shrooms. On the other side was a thick package of cocaine, packed into a brick, as well as a vial and a bullet that I had pre-packed. I took both of the prepared containers, grabbed a carbon fiber card and glass straw from the inner zipper pocket of my briefcase, and whirled around to get back to Rita.

"You were asking about party favors earlier?" I said, still grinning. I couldn't stop smiling.

"Oh, baby, yes!" Rita said, untucking her leg and almost bouncing up off the couch. "I am really in the mood to party."

"Bullet or lines?" I asked, presenting both options.

"Lines," she said and quickly grabbed the vial.

While I refilled our glasses, Rita went to work. I could see she was mesmerized but how beautifully she could manipulate the pillowy powder on the slick, perfectly smooth surface of the table. I was mesmerized as I watched her take the full contents of the vial and form it into six thick, long lines. It was a lot of coke.

"You really do want to party," I said.

"I thought we could save two for Christy," Rita said. "I don't want to be rude."

She bent over and sucked up the first line. Her head popped back up, she screwed her eyes up in pleasure and pursed her lips in satisfaction. Then she bent down again and snorted the second line. She let out an ecstatic sigh.

"Here, baby," she said, passing me the straw. "Your turn. I love how hard your dick gets on coke. And I need it right fucking now."

I gleefully indulged in two lines of my own, and felt the same thrill from the rush as the drug took over my brain. My cock, already hard from seeing Rita snort hers, became like steel. I saw Rita's nipples harden under the taut fabric of her shirt. She had the slightly crooked smile she got when she was high, and her nose was ever-so-slightly red. We were about to lean in for a kiss when Christy appeared.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Cameron," she said. "But I have the refreshments you requested ready. Would you like me to present them now or later?"

She smiled, as amused as I was by her needlessly formal tone.

"In a moment," I said. "We have a couple lines to share with you first, if you'd like, Christy."

"How generous," Christy said. "If you don't mind, I'll enjoy them now."

Immediately, she swept aside her red-brown hair and bent down. Her tits strained against the white shirt. Her curvy ass pressured the rear seam of her dress. She intentionally wore a uniform at least one size too small. She licked her lips before the final two lines of blow disappeared up her nose.

"What a lovely treat," Christy said, standing up, her voice turning nasal.

"Good cocaine is always such a treat," Rita said with her warm smile.

"Speaking of treats," Christy said, turning back on her formal tone, "let me get something special for you, Mrs. Cameron."

Rita sidled up next to me and kissed me quickly.

"All I really want is to feel that big dick of yours pushing against my cervix," she said.

"I think you'll thank me when you see what the special of the day is," I said, my eyes sparkling.

"Here we go," Christy said snappily, returning at a brisk walk.

She set down a silver tray on the table and deftly removed two smaller martini glasses, placing them in front of Rita.

"Mr. Cameron was very specific that he wanted to satisfy your desires," Christy said. "And I have taken special care to ensure this is the freshest possible."

Rita's eyes got wide. The bottom of each glass held a modest amount of thick, creamy fluid.

"Is this?" Rita said.

"It is," Christy said. "Just moments ago I collected this from our pilot, Captain Richards, and our co-pilot, First Officer Briggs."

"I hope that wasn't awkward," Rita joked.

"Oh, definitely not," Christy said with a smile. "I've frequently flown with them. They're used to these kinds of antics with me." And she gave a vivacious, knowing laugh.

"Wow," Rita said.

But without batting an eye, Rita greedily swallowed the contents of both glasses. She shuddered with pleasure.

"God, you must think I'm such a cum slut," she said aloud.

"No, I admire you," Christy said. "I'm a total cum addict. I won't lie, I'm a little jealous right now."

"Do you want a taste?" Rita asked.

Christy smiled, and Rita beckoned her with a finger. They kissed, a tongue-filled, sloppy embrace that seemed to be equally for my benefit as much as their own.

"What a treat," Christy said with a fluttering sigh. "Thank you. Now it's time for me to get back to work!"

She bounced away, always a ball of energy even without the cocaine boost. Rita looked over at me. Her cheeks blushed, and she threw me a sheepish, slightly embarrassed smile.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, John," she said quickly.

I laughed.

"Yeah, you're a fucking pervert," I said sarcastically. "I can't believe you!"

"It's just," she said, her voice stopped and started. "It's like a compulsion. I love it. I love cum. Like, I seriously would pour a glass of it if we had a carton in the fridge. I crave it. I'd always heard about strange things happening to your sense of taste after you got pregnant, but, Jesus, I never thought it would be something like this!"

"I think it's hot," I said, resting a hand on her thigh and rubbing it in a slow circle.

"I mean, I... you shouldn't," she stopped herself. She took a deep breath and restarted. "I don't want to be with these guys. I just want the cum. So I really am, like, blown away and stunned that you set that up because it validates that I'm not just some weirdo."

"Well, you are a weirdo," I said. "Just like me."

"John, you know what I mean!" Rita said plaintively.

"I know, baby," I said. "I love you. I think it's fucking hot. You know how much I love a dirty little cumslut. I love a girl who wants cum, who craves it. I love it about you, and it's even hotter now than it ever has been before."

"I just get scared sometimes that you'll think I want something more than you can give," she said. "I really don't have a desire to be intimate with another man. But, god, I do fantasize about cum. So much cum. I don't know if I could get enough right now."

"I love you," I said, my hand pressing more firmly on her thigh. "A big part of our lives is getting to live out our fantasies and deepest desires in a supportive environment. It's no different for you, Rita. If you want cum? I'm going to make sure you get plenty of cum."

"Right now, I want dick," she said. "And that means I want your dick."

We had drained our glasses of Champagne, and Rita lunged at me, nearly toppling us over as we kissed.

"Well, you're in luck," I said, "because what I didn't tell you is that I haven't cum in three days. My balls are so full, you might finally get enough."

Her eyes got wide, and she said, "Let's go check out the bedroom. Right now."

For the next four hours, Rita and I romped like a couple of first-time lovers who couldn't get enough of each other. It was frantic, needy, and relentless. We were fueled by cocaine and Champagne, and we only stopped because we had both reached a point of exhaustion and dehydration that we couldn't cum anymore. I had put three loads in her mouth and fucked her in the pussy and ass endlessly. She sucked me until her jaw was sore. I ate her pussy and ass while my cock recovered after each orgasm. It was the most fabulous and quickest flight I had ever taken.

When we finally emerged from the bedroom, Christy was waiting for us.

"We'll be landing in about an hour," she said brightly. "Did you have a nice rest?"

"I think you know as well as we do that there wasn't much resting," I said with a laugh. The girls joined in.

"I might have guessed," Christy said, her green eyes twinkling. "Even jet engines are only so loud."

We sat down again. We poured more Champagne. Before we knew it, the jet circled above the lush greeneess of Kauai.

"God, it's breathtaking," Rita said. "Even from this far up."

"I'm so excited for this," I said.

Within an hour of landing, Rita and I walked into our comically large, wholly unnecessary, four-bedroom penthouse at the Koloa Landing Resort. It was more than 3,500 square feet and was ringed by terraces with stunning views of the ocean. It had been fully stocked to my requests, and we immediately dug into the sumptuous platter of ripe, sweet local pineapple that awaited us.

"Now, eating this will really make your cum taste sweet," Rita said with a grin.

"I'll gorge myself on it," I said.

We unpacked, then went outside and smoked a bowl.

"I feel so relaxed, baby," Rita said as she let out a long, acrid exhale of smoke.

"This is perfect," I said. "Absolutely perfect."

The roar of the Pacific was reduced to a pleasant, hypnotic whoosh. The temperature was perfect, just warm enough, and the occasional breeze cut through any hints of humidity. I relished at Rita's pure joy at simply being present in Hawaii. It had been a dream of hers to come here, and it was like seeing a kid on Christmas morning seeing her drink in the unspeakably beautiful landscape.

After smoking a second bowl, we filled up plastic cups with quaffable white wine and went on a leisurely walking tour of the resort. The pools were stunning. The beach was even more attractive, with perfectly manicured sand, well-spaced umbrellas and lounge chairs, and that infinitely soothing roar of the powerful ocean.