Traffic Girl - Katie Ch. 09

"The best," I said and finally kissed her.

Jess was more needy than I was, even though she was the one who had been doing the teasing all night. I could feel her pent up desire. I pushed her dress up over her hips.

"Let's go to the bedroom," Jess suggested.

I nodded in response and took her hand. I followed her bare ass as it gently jiggled, and she made a big show of bending down and sliding onto the bed. The sparkling butt plug was still lodged inside her. She rolled onto her back and spread her legs.

"Look at that," she said, spreading her pussy open. It was visibly wet.

I dove in. As my tongue hit her slick, pink flower, I savored the sweet, thick juices. Immediately, Jess let out throaty, near-orgasmic moans. She didn't even need five minutes to get off. We were two race horses charging out of the gate. Everything pent-up flooded out -- from the disciplined pace of our physical intimacy that evening to the months of desire that had been forced into quarantine after my accident.

"I want you so bad," I said after Jess came.

I sat on my elbows between her thighs, and she bent down to kiss me, tasting herself.

"My pussy is so sweet, isn't it?" she said.

"Always," I said. "And so smooth."

"Lasers are amazing," she said.

"I want to do a line off you," I said. "I want to do coke in Belushi's room."

"You read my mind," she said. "You do one off me. I do one off your cock. You fuck the shit out of me. But can I ask one favor?"

"Of course, baby," I said.

"I want you to treat me like a whore," she said, her voice surprisingly meek. "I want you to use my pussy and ass however you want. Alternate between them, if you want. And then I want you to blow your load all over my face. I want to feel a man overpower me."

I paused before I responded and saw the look of desperate need on Jess's face. I smiled at her.

"You really haven't had any cock? At all?" I said.

"I'm not completely without self-control," Jess said as she pulled coke out of her clutch.

"That means a lot," I said. "I don't know if I could go without fucking if it weren't for being in a forced stalemate like I was."

"We made a decision," Jess said firmly. "The four of us. As your wives. It's not about my self-control. It's about what's best for all of us. And since this -- us, all of us -- is the most important thing in my life? There's nothing I won't do for it."

She smiled at me and unscrewed the cap on a vial of cocaine.

"Now give me that beautiful dick so I can get my fix," she said with a laugh.

My cock was hot, dry, and throbbing. I stood up, and Jess automatically got on her knees. I wondered how many hundreds of times we had done this together. I felt nostalgic for Jess and all we had been through, to reach a point like this, where we still had the old style and level of fun but had grown up. In our own way.

"Well, thank you for showing so much restraint," I said. "I can't imagine how you did it."

"It was easy," Jess said, stroking my cock a couple times. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I said.

"I won't say I wasn't tempted," she said. "One time in particular." She dumped out a generous helping of coke onto my erection. "When I stopped into the Daydream office briefly. It seemed pretty clear I had walked in when Kayla and Jimmy were about to get into something."

"Oh yeah?" I said, glancing down at Jess, who was guiding the powder into rough line form with a carbon fiber card.

"It turns out, Jimmy had been experimenting with a couple new supplements to try to make his cum taste better," Jess said. "And Kayla was about to do a taste test."

"And you joined in?" I said.

"Oh, no," Jess said breezily as she rocked back on her feet to get a glass straw. "But I did stay and watch. And I might have fingered myself a little bit. It was super hot. You'd think pornstars like that would be clinical about it, you know? But they're not. They're just such fucking stars. They were hot as shit, and I couldn't help myself. I totally made myself cum before I left."

"That's fucking hot, babe," I said.

"As hot as this?" Jess said, putting the straw in her nose and making the fat line of coke on my cock disappear with an ease only she could have. "Fuck!"

She followed that act up by immediately swallowing my cock, sure to get every grain of her favorite stimulant off my shaft.

"I love watching you do that," I said, exhaling.

"You know I'm a really good coke head because I can do a line that big and still suck your dick without a problem," she said and climbed up onto the bed.

"You're a natural born coke whore," I said, feeling the animal rising inside me.

"I'm a natural born fuck toy, too, baby," Jess said leaning back at the same time that she spread her ass cheeks open. "Pick a hole. Pick both holes. Just fuck me, goddamn it. I need a real dick so badly. I love the girls. I love our dildo collection. I love Rita's new double dildo. But nothing -- absolutely nothing -- beats a nice, hard man."

"Good thing I'm here," I said, positioning myself behind Jess.

Her ass was round and inviting, as always, and I was stunned to see how much grool poured from her cunt. She was desperate for my cock. I knew then and there what I wanted to do. Waiting around wasn't part of the plan.

"Fuck, I need this," I said as I pushed my cock into her pussy unceremoniously.

"Yes!" Jess cried out. "Baby, that's what I need!"

"You're fucking wet," I grunted as I took long, aggressive strokes in and out of her.

"God, you feel huge," Jess said. "Stretch me out, baby. Use your slut."

"I bet your ass is even tighter," I said.

"Why don't you find out?" Jess teased.

Then she screamed as I did just that. My cock was dripping with her arousal, and her winking anus called to me. I plunged in. Jess loved what she sometimes jokingly called "tennis match" sex -- going back and forth from one hole to another. So I gave her just that. It was a joy. I had missed it. She was so eager for and comfortable with anal sex. She didn't care which hole you stuck it in, as long as you gave her a hard cock. She was a credit to sluts in their most pure form.

"Fuck, you are stretching me out!" Jess squealed happily. "I love your dick. Fucking fuck, you feel so good. Use me, stud!"

This wasn't a romantic fuck. This was pure lust. Jess and I shared a level of physical need that was matched by my other wives, but there was always something especially magnetic and bright when we got together like this. Our mood was carnal, and nothing else could infringe upon acting on that desire. I was lost in a zone, arbitrarily putting my cock up Jess's ass and pussy, whatever struck my mood on a given stroke. It drove her mad, and she was clawing at the sheets and screaming at the top of her lungs. I couldn't count how many orgasms she had, but she was activated to the point of losing total control.

Eventually, she rolled over on her side, begging me off momentarily. She raised her left leg, opening up like a pair of scissors.

"Get in deep, John," she said. "And then cum all over me. I can't believe you haven't shot your load yet. I want to be covered. I want to be your dirty cumslut."

"Fuck yeah," I said, adjusting the position and intent to fulfilling her wishes.

I liked the angle, in particular because I could see Jess's face. She had the look in her eyes. The one that told me that, no matter how many times I came that night, there was no way she would be sated. Bottomless whore Jess had been activated. I pushed myself onto the bed, and she rolled onto her back. She knew what was coming. I stroked myself furiously as Jess gazed at me with those delirious eyes. She opened her mouth and licked her lips, silently urging me on. Her own hands moved between her thighs, one spreading open her cunt lewdly, and the other frigging her clit.

"Get ready," I grunted.

"Give me that big load, baby," she said, closing her eyes and completely losing herself in the moment.

I gave a primal moan and instinctively threw my head back. I closed my eyes and felt the orgasm seize my body. It's as if I could feel every movement of my sperm as it bubbled up through my balls, into my cock, and exploded out of my tip like a rocket going into orbit. I hadn't cum all day, and the teasing and edging with Jess that evening, so I was at full strength. Still, the amount I ejaculated surprised me. I didn't stop at three ropes. Or four. Seven shots later, and Jess was laughing out loud at how much sperm covered her face, hair, and neck. She sat up on her elbows to give me a full view, and a couple globs of cum dangled from her chin. She was a beautiful mess. I grinned at her and had the presence of mind to fish my phone from the pocket of my pants, which were crumpled on the floor.

"Smile, beautiful," I said.

Jess hammed it up for me and looked radiant. But not satisfied.

"Send that on our group text," she said after I showed it to her.

"Rita is going to be so jealous," I said with a chuckle as I prepared the text message to the girls.

"She'll be even more jealous of this," Jess said.

And she ran a finger across the largest strands of cum on her face, then sucked the heavy liquid into her mouth, savoring it.

"I'm a cumslut, too, you know," she said.

"Fuck," I said, my cock feeling frisky again.

"God, you taste so fucking good," Jess said, making a big production of gathering every drop. "I don't even care that you ruined my hair. Who am I kidding? I never care. I just want that cum."

"You are such a slut," I said.

"I'm your slut, first and foremost," she said, sucking on a finger.

"You're ready to party again, aren't you?" I said, and I didn't mean that night.

"I've been toying with a few ideas," she admitted. "A kind of welcome back for you at Hollywood & Vine."

"Oh, have you now?" I said.

She nodded and searched for the last remnants of my milky finish on her face.

"Well," I said, "let's fucking do it."

The thought excited me much more than I would have anticipated. I was starting to feel more like my old self again.

* * *

Los Angeles was in the midst of an endless run of days where the high temperature hit the mid-70s and never dropped below about 60. The days had become a blur, splicing together because they were very much the same for me. I was pushing my physical therapy to greater lengths, which was positive. It meant I was getting better. In fact, I was coming up on being released from it. Three months after the accident, and, while I wasn't fully recovered, I was at a point where it would just be a matter of a bit more time and a consistent exercise routine to get me back to full strength. Or as close to full strength as I would ever come.

But that Wednesday, about a week after my wonderful tryst with Jess at the Chateau Marmont, I got to break up my routine for one morning and afternoon. The girls all went to the Santa Monica Farmers' Market. Kat led the charge, deciding that we should gather for what we called "family dinner" with Juliet and Melanie. But instead of us hosting, Juliet and Melanie would, and Henry and Riley would join us, too. There were still a few weeks left before the European leg of the tour.

The farmers' market excursion, however, was only a pretext to let Rita and me have the house to ourselves. She didn't want to go out for our date together. She just wanted to maximize the time we'd have together. Alone. And intimately. So, there I was, in the familiar position of pulling the cork out of a Champagne bottle. What was unusual was the fact that the house was otherwise empty. And Rita, looking like Aphrodite herself, lay in the full sun on one of the pool lounge chairs, nude except for a pair of sunglasses.

"Darling," I said, handing Rita a generously full glass of bubbly.

"Thank you, love," she said, her voice betraying a peace I hadn't heard in far too long.

She sat up to take a drink, and I automatically stared at her body. The string of beautiful weather had made any tan lines a distant memory. Her skin all over had taken on a lightly honeyed tone, a tasteful tan that would last all summer. The slight swell of her hips carried to her slender waist, creating a natural draw to her flat stomach. And all of that drew attention to her sumptuous breasts, which, as always, stood out proudly and beautifully, capped by the perpetually soft pink and erect nipples. If I only ever got to stare at Rita like this, I would consider myself lucky.

I knew she saw me taking in her form while I drank from the wine glass. I imagined her eyes dancing playfully behind the Chanel sunglasses. And there was a spark of excitement and flattery that I could never escape when she directed that brilliant, adoring smile at me. It wasn't her TV smile. It was one even bright, more intimate, and always with just a hint of playfulness to it. It was the smile she reserved for me and her sister wives.

"Can you remember the last time we had the house totally and completely to ourselves?" she asked.

"I honestly can't," I said, sitting down on the lounge chair next to hers.

"I don't know that we ever had," she said, then quickly added, "not that it's a bad thing. It's just that this is unique."

"And much needed," I said, leaning forward to kiss her.

Her mouth tasted like the Champagne, but there was a subtle, distant note of marijuana still on her palate from her morning joint.

"I love that we can get back to doing this," Rita said, pushing a hand through her golden hair.

"I think we are really close to getting back to normal," I said.

"What is normal?" Rita said, and I knew she meant to challenge me.

I laughed.

"You know, that's a really good question," I said. "And, to be honest? I've been thinking about what it means."

"So have I," Rita said. "And I'm not the only one."

"I'm happy to talk about it, you know that," I said.

"I figured we would," Rita said with a smile before taking another drink.

I joined her and looked at her through my own sunglasses. Jesus, she was so fucking beautiful, I thought to myself. I knew she liked deep conversations before sex. She loved feeling that intense emotional connection, stoking that intimacy she shared only with our little group.

"I've been evaluating what normal should mean," I said. "I've been thinking about it. A lot."

"Me, too," Rita said, cutting her answer short as a way to signal her acquiescence to me discussing this topic first.

"Our priorities have changed," I said. "And I don't mean just because of the accident. Our financial situation ... it's ... it has really taken on a much different outlook than I ever dreamed it."

"It certainly has," Rita said, smiling.

"We don't need to focus on making money," I said. "I mean, especially not because we are going to have so much passive income. It's like the faucet has turned on, and it'll just keep running."

Rita just kept smiling.

"Why should we feel tethered to a normal life?" I asked rhetorically. "We can essentially do whatever we want. We have zero debt. Even without all the residuals that will be coming in, we would easily have five million dollars a year thrown off from the safe investments, and that's a conservative estimate. So, no, let's redefine normal. Let's make 'normal' be about desire. What do we want to do? We figure that out, and we can have it. Anything."

"That sounds so fucking good," Rita said, taking a swig of Champagne and then licking her lips.

"What about you?" I asked.

"You know me," Rita said with a wry smile. "I'm easy. I only like the best."

"You're anything but easy," I said, and we laughed.

"I guess, I mean, I've been thinking about this a lot, too, and the girls and I have talked about it," she said. "And you know me. It goes back to when I was in college. I had so much fun, and I thought, wow, life is so easy. But then, after I graduated, things just suddenly weren't easy. I couldn't coast. So I worked hard -- not that I minded that. And then I found, uh, him" -- she refused to say her ex's name -- "and thought, wow, this is it. The easy life!"

She laughed acidly. I reached over and touched her leg, bringing her back to me.

"Well, okay, so you know it wasn't all it was cracked up to be," she continued. "I'd just kind of reconciled myself to the fact that I'd be able to have money and stay in a loveless marriage. Then someone incredible came along and turned my whole world upside down."

She stopped, looked at me, and pouted her lips together in a kissy face.

"I love you," I said.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, John," she said sincerely. "And all of this? Our family? THIS?" She opened her arms to encompass the physical space around us. "This is beyond my wildest dreams. Then with all your hard work, I mean, it just makes my paltry settlement look like a pittance. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about what it could allow us to do."

I moved my hand higher up her leg, touching her thigh. There was the faintest trace of sweat from the bright sun. Her skin was soft and lusciously smooth. I let my hand wander up toward her inner thigh, and I felt goosebumps break out on her skin.

"So let's do it," I said, my eyes boring into hers. "All of it."

"I have a lot of ideas," she said.

"Let's hear them," I said.

"We're going to need more Champagne," Rita said and held out her empty glass with a smile.

I refilled it and held the bottle up. It had maybe two pours left in it, so I told Rita I'd grab one more and an ice bucket.

"Good idea," she said. "I'll have something delivered in the meantime."

I looked at her quizzically, and she just flashed a knowing smile. At the bar inside, I filled a stainless steel bucket with cubes from the ice machine, then shoved a bottle of Champagne into it before filling it with water until it almost came to the brim. By the time I returned to the pool, I was greeted by an unexpected sight. There was a beautiful blonde standing with her back to me, and I heard the unmistakable sound of cocaine being snorted. But I wasn't looking at Rita. Without a doubt, because of the outrageously glorious head of hair, I knew it was Stephanie. Her ass betrayed it, too. It was bigger and more rounded than Rita's athletic, tennis-shaped ass. I put down the Champagne bucket on the side table between the lounge chairs Rita and I sat in, and the scene took shape for me.

Stephanie held a silver tray, which was covered in a dozen lines of coke. Well, except for one residue-covered blank spot because Rita had just snorted it. Stephanie smiled at me, her epic natural boobs pointing much higher than gravity should have allowed. Rita did a second line, then ran her finger over the space previously occupied by the powder. She rubbed her gums and smiled at me.

"See, babe," Rita said. "More refreshments."

She blew me a kiss, then turned her attention to Stephanie.

"Thank you, kitten," Rita told her. "You can leave the tray. That will be all. For now."

Stephanie bowed her head, bent over, and set the tray on the table next to the sweating ice bucket.

"Yes, mistress," she said and walked away.

Her eyes briefly caught mine before she disappeared inside. I watched her prominent pussy lips between her thigh gap as she went. And there was the unmistakable impression that simply this brief interaction with Rita had given her a level of pleasure she hadn't known in ages.

"Well, aren't you just the queen of training an obedient kitten," I said.

"She's great, isn't she?" Rita said, her voice a touch more nasal now. "Have some, baby. I love our coke conversations."

"You know my rule, darling," I said. "I never say no to a beautiful woman."

We laughed, and I inhaled two lines. It felt good getting back into coke. I had stayed away from ketamine more and more because it seemed like I was loving it a little too much. It was nice to diversify my drug intake -- and it was amazing to reach a point post-accident where I wasn't worried about it. The cardiac incident was a thing of the past, and the doctors said I shouldn't worry about it. The body, I marveled, was an amazing thing.