Traffic Girl - Rita Ch. 44

Author's Note: This chapter is different from any other in this series so far. It's going to be told purely from the third-party point of view. The presumption here is that, as the events here are relayed to you, they're told as recounted by Kat and Jess to John and Rita after they get back from Hollywood. So perhaps there is some unreliability or self-interest tinged in the events, but it's meant to be the honest and detailed narrative of what happened with Kat and Jess on their weekend in LA. Please enjoy. And, as always, thank you for reading, and I appreciate your feedback.

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The jet's cabin door closed and, within minutes, it was taxiing to the runway. The flight attendant, who looked to be college aged, offered drinks, which Kat and Jess happily accepted.

"So did Peter tell you anything about what they have planned?" Kat asked, nervous excitement in her voice.

"Not really," Jess said, taking a sip of her Champagne. "He just said to be ready for anything. But he's always like that. What about Stephen?"

"A total black hole," Kat said, "except for one thing. He said he wanted me to have a landing strip."

"Oh my god, really?" Jess said, surprised.

"Yeah," Kat affirmed. "I mean, luckily I hadn't shaved in Vegas, so it was easy. So I've got a perfect little strip going!"

"This is going to be so much fun," Jess said. "It's kind of hot just being called out there by them, like we're their property."

"It makes sense, though," Kat said. "They like to do what they want, when they want it. It's part of their ethos and their celebrity. Snap, and people come running."

"I feel a little bad leaving, I have to admit," Jess said.

"Me, too," Kat agreed. "I mean, yes, I want to do it, and I know it'll be fun. But it's hard leaving behind John and Rita."

"We're lucky they're so cool with it," Jess said.

"I mean, seriously, we are living the best life," Kat said.

"And John is going to take care of Rita," Jess said.

"I know," Kat said. "New Orleans sounds amazing. Such a romantic gesture."

"He's good at those," Jess said.

Kat smiled in agreement, and the two girls clinked glasses. The flight passed uneventfully but not very quickly. There was too much anticipation on board. Neither Kat nor Jess could bear to eat. They kept an even buzz going with glasses of Champagne and occasional bumps off their coke bullets, but their eyes rarely left the flight map that was on the TV screen at the front of the cabin. There was a dual rush of adrenaline and uncertainty that coursed through them. On one side was the excitement of getting to be with famous and powerful men. On the other was not knowing what those men might make them do. It was a helplessness that appealed to both of them a great deal.

As the jet embarked on its final descent, Kat and Jess took turns freshening their makeup and putting on a new outfit. Without knowing what came next, they chose something functional but attractive.

For Kat, that meant a sheer, pastel pink top that allowed glimpses of her nipples piercings and also did nothing to mask how erect they were all the time. She paired it with an elegant, ruffled skirt that came up past mid-thigh and was, more than anything, an invitation for easy access.

For Jess, she chose a high-waisted romper that was made from thin blue material. It had a plunging neckline and fit her curves as if it were painted on. Her ass was full and firm. It gave her a noticeable camel toe, and it was only a matter of time before the arousal coursing through her body would show in the crotch.

The girls exchanged anxious glances as the plane touched down. They took one last bump of coke before it came to a stop.

"Sometimes I just want to get used like a whore," Kat said, biting her lower lip and feeling juices build between her thighs.

"I have a feeling we're going to be up to the challenge, whatever it is," Jess said, leaving a hint of the mysterious and confident in her voice, as if she knew a secret and relished not telling.

At the Van Nuys airport, a stretch limo awaited them. The driver didn't speak. He simply opened the door, closed it behind them when they climbed in back, and put their bags in the trunk. Inside, the girls each found a dozen blue roses. The limo was fragrant with them. An air of mystery took over as the driver pulled away.

"Where do you think we're going?" Kat asked.

"I honestly don't know," Jess said.

"I'm too nervous to even do a bump," Kat said.

"My pussy is dripping like a faucet," Jess said.

"This just feels so naughty," Kat admitted. "I haven't felt like this in a long time. Even though John knows and approves. I just feel like I did when I was working for you."

"Sounds like Kitty Kat is coming to play," Jess said.

"Kitty Kat is already here," Kat said with a grin.

They rode in silence for a while, and the limo wound its way south, through Van Nuys, past Sherman Oaks, through the hills of Bel Air, and past the Getty Museum. The girls were getting antsy, unsure of where they were headed. This was a different route from any other time they had been in LA.

"Okay, I need a pick-me-up," Kat finally said.

"I didn't want to say it first," Jess said with a nervous laugh.

The limo exited the 405 to the 10 as Kat and Jess calibrated their coke bullets to larger bumps. In tandem, they inhaled in one nostril, then the other.

"I never get tired of that rush," Jess said.

"God, me neither," Kat agreed. "Doing a line or a bump just feels so sexy."

"That's because John loves it so much," Jess said. "We can make him hard just by letting him watch us do a hit of coke."

"And I love that about him," Kat said with a laugh and a sniffle. "But I love the coke, too."

Jess laughed and said, "Do you think we'll ever stop being coke whores?"

"Oh, sweetie, never," Kat said. "Well, I mean, just long enough to have a baby. But otherwise? Never."

When the 10 came to an end at the Santa Monica pier, the limo turned north and wound its way up the Pacific Coast Highway. After a few minutes, the car ducked into the Pacific Palisades, but it never made it far from the ocean. And, suddenly, it stopped in front of a tall, bright white wrought iron gate, which retracted and opened when the limo pulled up. Inside, behind a line of ten-foot shrubs, was an immaculate stucco mansion with Spanish tile roof. The car came to a stop, and Kat and Jess looked at each other with wide, excited, wired eyes.

"Ladies," the driver said after opening the door.

Kat and Jess stepped out into the refreshing, salt-tinged air. The sun gently descended toward the horizon of the Pacific Ocean, of which the house had an unobstructed view. The driver led them to the front door, leaving their bags there, and then disappeared into the evening almost without notice. The girls were mesmerized by the scene. An infinity pool draped the backyard, while a balcony wrapped around the expanse of the house, giving it incredible views from every side.

Before the girls even had time to think, a butler, dressed formally, had answered the door and lifted their bags inside.

"The gentlemen await you on the verandah this way," he said solemnly.

He led them down a corridor along the side of the house, lined all the way with floor-to-ceiling windows, to another glass wall leading to the back balcony. The house was built up fairly high, and the ground floor rose above the level of the protective shrubs, giving a glorious view of the Pacific and the horizon line. The butler led them to already-opened French doors that led outside and bowed away. It was an artfully choreographed entrance. And, for Kat and Jess, the reward at the end of it was being greeted by Peter and Stephen, grinning broadly to welcome them and holding two glasses of Champagne each.

The girls had to stifle the urge to run to them. Their excitement thumped in their chest and between their legs. Kat walked to Stephen, smiling, and he greeted her with a movie star's kiss, sweeping her away into the moment and made her feel lightheaded. Peter, on the other hand, set down the Champagne and aggressively cupped Jess's ass while he smothered her face, and she giggled in delight.

"Girls, you've made it just in time for sunset!" Peter said grandly, gesturing out over the ocean.

"This is breathtaking," Kat said, starstruck and completely lost in the moment.

"We, of course, have plenty of Champagne," Stephen said. "And help yourselves to the sushi. Peter had Nobu himself prepare it."

"God, are you kidding?" Jess said. "This looks amazing!"

"This is probably the only break we're going to get for the next two months," Peter explained. "We wanted to make it count."

Stephen raised his Champagne glass in toast.

"Hear, hear," he said. "Here's to a beautiful weekend of total indulgence."

They clinked glasses, and Peter put his arm around Jess's ass again, guiding her to the sushi spread, which was immaculate. Peter picked up a piece of toro belly and popped it into his mouth.

"This is not the best sushi I'm going to eat all weekend," he said, leering at Jess, who laughed. She was always amused by his raunchy sense of humor.

Stephen took Kat's hand and walked to the railing. They looked at the ocean in silence for a moment, taking sips of Champagne. They glanced at each other but didn't speak. Their communication had almost always been silent, based instead on body language and eye contact that betrayed magnetic attraction. Stephen's free hand moved between Kat's thighs, stopping briefly as it felt the slick moisture that had developed between her legs, and then stopping at its intended destination. He felt for the slim strip of pubic hair above her vaginal opening.

"I'm glad you followed instructions," he said.

"Of course I did, babe," Kat said and turned to him with a flirty smile.

"I like those little measures of control," he admitted.

"I know," Kat said with false confidence.

"There is nothing like sunset along the Pacific," Stephen said, removing his hand and finishing his Champagne. He turned and retrieved the bottle.

When Stephen returned, Peter and Jess also joined them along the rail. The four stood in silence as the sun made its final descent to the horizon line. The yellow softened to orange and finally pink as the flame-licked ball disappeared into the depths of the ocean. At that moment, the tenor of the evening took a more erotic turn.

Stephen focused on Kat now. Her body tingled from the attention. It was a feeling that took her back to her early days in LA, out of college, when she was in awe of seeing even C-list celebrities out at clubs. But this was Hollywood's number-one leading man. And he was kissing her. And fondling her breasts and lovingly tweaking her nipple piercings.

In contrast to the smoldering romance between Stephen and Kat, Peter and Jess were boisterous and playful. There was an element of a frat party hookup between them. It was intense, urgent, and sloppy. Their hands flew. Dirty talk was their love language.

"I want to do a line off your dick," Jess panted.

"You are such a coke whore," Peter said with a laugh. "I love it."

"Your coke whore," Jess said. "For tonight, anyway."

"You're going to walk funny tomorrow, slut," Peter said.

"If you can keep up with me," Jess taunted.

The couples ate during twilight, draining two more bottles of Champagne as they went, and spirits were high. When it came time for dessert, spirits got even higher because Peter brought out a tray of cocaine. It was a jaw-dropping amount of beautiful, immaculately white powder.

"We've got another bag with at least this much in it, so help yourselves, girls!" Peter bellowed before hoovering up huge lines.

He passed the straw to Kat, who felt Stephen's hands run up the insides of her thighs as she bent over to snort two lines.

"Fuck, coke just seems so much better out here," she said with satisfaction as she stood up. As she threw her head back to inhale every last crystal, she bent her knees slightly so Stephen's hands reached her pussy, making her gasp.

Stephen demurred on the coke for the time being, so Kat handed Jess the straw. She was sitting on Peter's lap now, grinding against him. Even in the muted light of the verandah, the wet spot on the crotch of her romper was clearly visible. Jess did two massive lines with enthusiastic glee, matching the amount Peter had just inhaled.

"God, baby, I need that dick," Jess said. "Let's see which runs out first tonight. The coke or your cum."

"It'll be a photo finish," Peter said with a cackle. "Because I never run out of either!"

Jess began stripping off her romper, and Stephen took that as his cue to escort Kat inside. The perfectly choreographed evening had moved into its next scene.

"Get that dress off," Peter growled, pawing at Jess. "I want that hot little cunt."

"It's a romper, baby," Jess said in mock reprimand. "And don't you want me to do a line off that fat dick first? I want to be your perfect little coke whore."

"Fuck yeah, slut," Peter said. "That's a great idea." He stood up and dropped his pants. "Just looking at your sexy ass gets me hard."

He pushed his chair back and reached forward to the cocaine tray on the table. He scooped up large amounts of blow and carefully sprinkled it on the sizable girth of his cock.

"You want a lot?" Peter asked.

"I can never get enough coke," Jess said, licking her lips.

Peter added another scoop, and easily a gram of cocaine sat on his erection. Jess, nude and enchanting in the last rays of twilight, looked at the drug and his body with greedy lust. She dropped to her knees with the devotion of a church-goer. Despite the recent lines numbing her face and clouding her brain, Jess attacked the coke again with reckless abandon. She didn't bother to split up the line. She took it at once, the rush hitting her furiously. She was dangerously high, and she knew it. It was a line she didn't walk very often, but right now it felt perfect. She saw the remnants she had left behind, sticking to Peter's cock, and stifled her instinctive reaction to suck him clean. No, she decided, she wanted to show him, this Hollywood power broker, what a total slut she could be for him.

"You do coke like me," Peter said with approval. "I love it."

"You know what else I love?" Jess said, lifting herself off the ground. She grabbed the base of Peter's shaft, careful not to disturb any of the powder still sticking to him. "A coke-covered dick in my ass. It's my favorite fucking high."

Jess didn't wait for Peter's response. She simply put her hands down on the table, leaned forward, and presented her sumptuous ass to him. Her cheeks curved out, with a large crease between them plunging down her crack. She swung her head around and smiled wantonly.

"Just spit on it a little, okay?" she said.

Peter didn't say anything. Jess merely felt the warm saliva hit her ass crack and trickle over her asshole. His cock, moderately long but notably thick, plowed past her sphincter without a care for Jess's discomfort -- if she would have had any. She loved the rough penetration. The extra cocaine being absorbed in her ass sent her to an even higher level of pleasure. She groaned happily.

"That's it, big boy," Jess grunted. "Take me however you want. I'm a good little whore. Let me be your toy." She knew just how to appeal to his desire for carte blanche.

Peter grabbed a fistful of Jess's blonde hair and tugged while he fucked her. It only made her cry out louder. He smacked her ass firmly with his free hand, and it only made her beg for more. Their previous encounters had always been rough and dirty. They meshed at that level. But this time, Jess wanted something more. She had a mission. She wanted to show she could handle whatever Peter threw at her. She wanted him to know that he could rely on her to do whatever it took. That she was on his level and could be trusted to satisfy, no matter what.

"Yeah, slut," Peter said. "I love a no-lube anal whore. Jesus, you are so tight. These Hollywood bitches can almost never take the rough stuff. But you love it."

"I do," Jess said plaintively. "I love it. I love it as hard as you can give it to me."

"Goddamn I love that shit," Peter said.

He let go of Jess's hair, causing her to fall forward a bit on the table, but then he reached his large hand around her neck and squeezed. She gasped at his firm grip. As Jess had fallen forward, however, Peter's cock also popped out of her ass, leaving it gaping obscenely.

"Fucking hell," Peter shouted enthusiastically. "Your ass is wide open! You gaping little slut!"

"Oh my god, really?" Jess exclaimed. "I've never done that before!" She knew it was a lie. John, Johnny Burris, and others in the last six months alone had told her about it. John had even made a video of it just a few weeks ago for their personal porn stash.

Peter reinserted himself all the way inside Jess's anal cavity, then pulled all the way out again. He did it over and over and over, giddy with himself at Jess's incredible control over her sphincter.

"This is so fucking hot," Peter panted. He was really worked up.

"Take a video, babe!" Jess said happily. "That way you won't forget who your favorite ass slut is."

"Yeah, yeah," Peter said, fumbling for his phone, which was on the table.

He was giddy and took a quick video. Then he got serious about fucking Jess's ass again. She yelped with approval and started to build toward a massive climax. Anal gave Jess her most profound orgasms. She craved it. And she appreciated how much Peter enjoyed it. He obviously didn't get enough anal, and his boyish energy made her love it even more.

"Baby, your dick is so good," Jess purred. "I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum just from having your big dick in my ass." She was a professional.

"Yeah, yeah," Peter repeated. "Cum on my cock, slut."

Jess exploded. It was an honest and incandescent moment of pleasure for her. She came so easily, it didn't really move her. But she had to admit this was an awesome cum. Her body shook, and she realized the extra cocaine was heightening her pleasure even more.

"Oh my fuck!" she cried out. "I'm cumming so fucking hard! Don't stop! Don't stop, you fucker! Fuck me!"

Jess came down from her physical high and sensed Peter's quickening breath and the increasing pace of his strokes. He was close. She bent over a little more and slid a hand behind her, cupping his pendulous balls and giving a modest squeeze. It sent him over the edge.

"Yeah, slut, I'm going to cum," Peter said roughly. "I'm going to cum in that ass."

"Please, baby, please," Jess begged. "You know I'm not happy until you give me that hot cum."

Peter bellowed loudly, signaling his climax, but also did something unexpected. He pulled out, leaving Jess's ass gaping broadly. And like a sharpshooter, he aimed his throbbing cock at the opening, firing ropes of cum into her asshole like it was a carnival game. Jess moaned, the feeling something new and unexpected -- no easy feat for someone who had played almost every sexual game in the book. Peter let the final few spurts of cum cover her magnificent cheeks. There was no doubt about it: Jess was an anal olympian. But she wasn't done. She knew to burn this into Peter's mind that she needed to add a final flourish.

When Peter staggered back into his chair, happily sighing as he did so, Jess turned around and got on her knees. She put his cock in her mouth without missing a beat and sucked him like a champion as she fondled his balls again.

"Goddammit, you just can't get enough, you perfect little slut!" Peter exclaimed.

Jess gave a muffled moan in reply. She was in the zone. It happened sometimes, probably more times than she cared to admit. She was activated. There was nothing that could take her focus away from giving her body to this man however he wanted it. She transmogrified into an object solely for his sexual pleasure, and it gave her more satisfaction than anything else in the world. Jess loved feeling Peter stay hard in her mouth. She was impressed. He would be ready to give her another round without a break. She smiled broadly as she felt the cum leak out of her ass onto the polished tile of the verandah.