Traffic Girl: Stephanie, Chapter 1

Traffic Girl: Stephanie, Chapter 1

Author's Note: Well, here is a little curveball! Things were just getting too long. It wasn't appropriate to keep it all in one chapter. The story arc wouldn't support it. So I've broken up what I originally envisioned as Chapter 1 into four chapters. I think you'll like it better this way. And, even better news, that means they'll all be in your hands sooner. I always love your feedback so please keep it coming.

* * *

Three months had passed since our experimental, weekend swap on the High Seas. So much had transpired during that period, I barely had time to slow down and reflect on everything that had happened. Katie's album, Euphoria's Kiss, had blown away all expectations and debuted at No. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. It was an incredible story. She'd been knocked down to No. 21 when Riley's new album debuted the following week. And then she started a climb back up the charts when their tour kicked off.

The tour, mercifully, was limited to the U. S. Twenty-four dates in twelve cities. After the first two weeks? Riley's album remained cemented at No. 1 on the charts, and, somewhat shockingly, Katie's settled in right behind at No. 2. And both of them stayed there. For eight weeks in a row. Katie was sitting at quadruple platinum and counting.

Riley had deliberately scaled-down this tour from the grandiose stadium dates of the Stages Tour. Instead, they played larger arenas, which stoked crazy ticket demand -- and prices. Despite cramming in 20,000 fans a night, there was an air of exclusivity to the Lyrical Tour, which is what Riley had dubbed it because she wanted to focus more on her artistry instead of the pageantry that had defined the Stages Tour.

We had been worried about the possible toll of months on the road so soon after we had just gone through Stages. But, I have to admit, I was proud of myself for having come up with a solution. I knew Riley disliked going from city to city every night. She wouldn't do it anymore. So instead of even camping out at each tour stop for a week, I suggested that we decamp to Houston for the duration. They could fly anywhere in the U. S. in no more than four hours. That meant everyone could reasonably be home to sleep at our house there every night. Riley loved the idea, but Katie loved it even more.

She loved her success. And part of what made her so endearing to her new fans -- Rolling Stone had declared her the "pop princess next door" -- was that she was genuinely surprised by it and the accompanying fame. It gave her an authenticity you couldn't pay for. She was sincere. She was beautiful -- something she was unafraid to play up -- and she put on a good show. No, she put on a great show. Riley was happy about it, too, because her crowds were whipped into an even greater frenzy for her. There was an air of "girl power" around the tour that tore through fans like wildfire. It didn't hurt that they frequently appeared together for encores at the end of Riley's set.

The tour was the most visibly demanding part of our lives during those months. But there was also a flurry of other activities kicking up dust. Rita spent Monday through Thursday in LA, working tirelessly on the new agency. Her efforts were complicated by the fact that she was also acting as a kind of babysitter for Old Katie. My college girlfriend hadn't stepped out of line, but, as Rita put it, she was like a wild horse, and you needed to be sure she had been fully tamed before you could trust them not to run off course.

Jess was fielding an enormous boom in business at Hollywood & Vine, along with nearly wall-to-wall bookings for the High Seas. The only downside was that the 737 used for Mile High Airways had been a bit of a flop. I admit I must have misread the allure of the bigger jet. So many of the target audience for it already flew private, and just being on a larger plane wasn't a huge draw. But we made the most of it by switching gears. We redeployed the 737 for the Lyrical Tour. That wasn't a bad thing because it let us recoup the cost of the jet. It also let me spend more time with the flight attendants, Christy, London, and Zoe.

Those few months actually were a nice shakeup from our routine in LA. Don't get me wrong. I loved LA. I loved our life there. It couldn't have been better. But I think I came to appreciate it even more when we shifted into a slower life in Houston for that time. It was slower despite the fact that we spent so much time jetting around from city to city. It wasn't realistic for all of us to fully go on tour with Katie and Riley. But I made a point to be at every show. The girls made it to most of them.

The excess travel, which actually reduced the wear-and-tear on Katie and Riley, made this tour much less debauched than the Stages Tour. But the bigger jet let us include everyone from both bands. That was important, in particular, to Katie because she wanted to get to know the musicians working with her. Ken and Dave, Riley's drummer and guitar player, respectively, were back with the gang. A new bass player, Mark, was in the mix. Katie's backup included an experienced group of touring musicians: James on guitar, Matt on bass, and Max on drums. The girls shared backup singers -- Kelly and Elizabeth, from the Stages Tour -- and a keyboard player, Ryan. They were professionals, and they knew how to handle the rigors of the road. They were also party animals. And for all of them, except for Kelly and Elizabeth because they had been with us before, it was the most indulgent, high-flying lifestyle they'd ever experienced. That made it fun for everyone.

Still, it was a strain to have all of us so far-flung and constantly in motion, or so it seemed. But the gamble we took during this relatively brief period was that we would come out the other end stronger. We viewed it, as Rita had articulated succinctly, as a period when we would work harder and would be rewarded on the back end with even more wealth and leisure time than we could have imagined. Rita would have the agency on solid footing. Jess hoped to be able to step back some from the sex club. Kat was working on commercializing her marijuana growing. This was driven in large part by Kelly's cancer diagnosis. Kat wanted to carve out a niche dedicated to cancer patients. Katie would keep recording and touring, but the success of this first album and road show were so great, it would give her even more power down the road to dictate her own terms.

But this period wasn't without its challenges. When you're not together, there's a risk that something has to fill the gaps. And we were all dealing with gaps. Ryan and Chris had jetted off to shoot their action/buddy film. In a major step, Henry had to spend three months in Vancouver and Australia for the production of his first film, where he would share the billing with Stephen and Jeff Stone. This was an epoch of opportunity.

Except for me. I was content to sit back and enjoy myself. And one of my main sources of entertainment had been Stephanie. Initially, we assumed Stephanie would stay in LA to be Rita's assistant. But Rita felt comfortable taking care of things herself, and she thought Stephanie would be ideal to help handle the talent. In this case, that meant Katie. She would basically serve as Katie's personal assistant on tour. So while the other girls came-and-went more than on the Stages Tour, Stephanie, like me, was always there.

And that meant we got into a lot of trouble together. Stephanie ran around like mad during the day. She was diligent and conscientious and had a knack for anticipating what Katie or even Riley might want or need. But once Katie took the stage? Her work was largely over for the day, I learned to recognize the signs of her body essentially giving a huge exhale. She stayed focused and tense during the day, genuinely wanting to excel at her assigned task. That's because Rita had trusted her to do this. And, as Stephanie frequently told me, "If my goddess wants it? I'm going to give everything I have to it."

Stephanie was a good little pet for my wife. But over the course of the tour she was becoming a very regular play thing for me, too. It took a bit of time for her to truly warm up to me. I know she originally enjoyed our time together, but that was more in the service of Rita. Maybe it still was, but I could tell by her actions that she was at least starting to trust me and act on a natural attraction. I knew this was part of rebuilding Stephanie's trust in men. Well, at least, one man. Me. I knew that was important to Rita, too. Stephanie had been through a horrendous marriage when she was probably too young. It left her clinging to isolationist tendencies, despite her very public-facing career.

The thing was, I enjoyed spending time with Stephanie. She was beautiful, of course, and she had a sweet personality and a curious mind. I learned that she had spent so much of her life sheltered -- first in a boring, stoic midwestern upbringing, then in a shitty post-college marriage -- that the transition to LA had been a huge shock. She wanted it. It was a huge step for her career. But it left her even more isolated than before. Until Rita came along. That gave her a kind of liberation. A real friend. Someone who could show her the larger world out there. And, despite her anxiety and instinct to be a shut-in, Rita and the rest of us had helped open her eyes. Stephanie had begun to blossom, and she had started to approach this unique, crazy world we inhabited with a sense of wonder.

I liked having a project, so I took up the mantle on mentoring Stephanie about the world. If Katie and Riley worked on writing new music? I took Stephanie out sightseeing. Every break I filled with something to expand her horizons. When the other girls were with us, they joined us, too. One of my favorite games became getting Stephanie to try new foods. She had been used to such a bland diet, eating almost exclusively pasta or fast food, for a long time. We pushed her boundaries on that.

It really worked out. At the end of her work day, she and I would smoke a joint and have a couple drinks to relax. Stephanie was very focused on her assigned tasks. It helped her a lot to have some stress relief when it was done. Then we would watch Katie's set together. At the start of the tour, they were always forty-five minutes long. By the end, she was going for a solid hour. When Katie's set wrapped, we would party a little with her and the band, before Katie waited in the wings to join Riley for an encore or two.

That's when Stephanie and I would sneak off to the special green room. Not the one the public got, even the people with backstage passes. The real green room. With our security guy keeping watch out front. With the two big, comfortable sofas. Stephanie liked to do a couple lines of cocaine once Riley's set started. It let her really detach from the whirlwind of activity that usually consumed her days. If one or more of my wives were there? They'd join us, too. But sometimes they just let me take Stephanie on my own. After the first two lines of coke -- or ketamine; she liked that a lot, too -- we'd have a glass of wine or Champagne, and then she'd do two more lines. That put her in a place where she was open to almost anything.

But I didn't take advantage of that. I wanted to build up Stephanie, stoke her desire to be even more like us. So, especially during the first couple weeks of the tour, I spent a lot of time eating her pussy as our first move after we got relaxed. Stephanie needed to see that not all men were threatening or predatory. I put on the full-court-press. But I also had Stephanie's unwavering fidelity and obedience to Rita working to my advantage. Stephanie knew Rita wanted us to connect intimately. She would do anything Rita asked her to, but Rita and I were on the same page with this. We didn't want to abuse the control of Stephanie. We wanted to use it as a healing power for her, to help liberate her from her past and bring her into a greater future. With us.

Rita didn't tell me everything she had planned for Stephanie. She didn't have to. I knew what she wanted. I also knew that Stephanie was more than a pet to her. So, every chance I got, I ate Stephanie's pussy until she came and kept going. I waited for her to ask for my cock. It was so tentative at first it was cute. It didn't need to be. We had fucked plenty of times already. But we both knew something else was going on while we were on tour with Katie. It was more consequential. So Stephanie's instinct was to pull back, to retreat into her introspective shell. That's why I made it my mission to break that wall down. I knew that, if I was patient, I could penetrate it. And her, of course. But that penetration would do meaningful, lasting damage to the walls hse put up around her. To put it bluntly, Stephanie was just too great not to share with the world. Even if we would be protective of her.

I was patient. In a way, our sex was mechanical, like a form of cognitive therapy, for the first few weeks of the tour. Then something changed about two-thirds of the way through our criss-crossing the U. S. While most of our couplings were pretty formulaic -- Stephanie liked being on top, and I was happy to give her the control, and she loved when I sucked on her tits while she rode me -- something changed one night in Chicago. In the green room at the United Center, I arrived first while Stephanie cleared the last couple details for Katie's post-set meal. I laid out four lines of coke, but when Stephanie came in and brushed off her usual drugs. Instead, she walked in and came straight toward me as I sat on the couch. As she strode forward, she undid the belt that looped around her tight, red wrap dress. She pulled open the fabric and revealed her nude body underneath. Stephanie always wore underwear. She loved matching lingerie sets. So this was unusual.

"Well, isn't this a nice surprise," I said, standing up to greet her.

She walked straight up to me and put her hands behind my head to pull me in for a kiss.

"What's gotten into you, Steph?" I asked.

She smiled at me, her white teeth shining and framing the unique, triangular shape that her mouth formed when she was happy.

"I have to tell you something," she said. "I woke up this morning and got myself off."

"That's not so unusual, I thought," I said.

"I thought about you," she said. "The whole time. And your dick."

"Really?" I said.

This was a first. Stephanie and I talked a lot. We had gotten close and gotten to know one another very well. She confided to me that she loved masturbating, and she always started the day by fingering herself. For a while, the target of her fantasies had been primarily Rita but also some of the others in our circle, and that target had never been male.

"I really want to try to have an orgasm with your penis inside me," Stephanie said.

"This is definitely shift," I said, smiling at her between kisses.

I had to stifle a laugh. Stephanie hadn't quite reached the point of comfort with dirty talking. She said penis more frequently than dick or any other slang for my cock.

"Something clicked," she said, her tone quiet and submissive. "I trust you, John. I know you won't hurt me."

"I do promise that," I said.

Our eyes met. Her gray-blue ones darted from left to right. She smelled faintly of Chanel No. 5. Her skin was flawless except for the faintest crinkles at the corners of her eyes. I wanted to devour her, an urge I stifled because it was never a good idea to push Stephanie too hard or too fast.

"I just really want you to fuck me," she said. "Right now."

She pulled me back down on the couch, but instead of the usual cowgirl position, she laid down on her back.

"Are you hard?" she asked. "I'll play with myself until you are."

Her fingers flew to her glistening pussy while I raced to get off my clothes.

"I don't think getting hard will be a problem," I said once I finished tugging off my shirt and threw it in a pile with the rest of my clothes.

"Is that for me?" Stephanie asked, disarming me with her forwardness.

"All for you," I said, pulling her to me as I kneeled on the couch.

She spread her thighs for me and squealed as I brought her to me, ending with the tip of my cock at her glistening opening.

"John, before you do it," she said. "I just want to tell you something that's weird for me to say, but I really want to say it."

"What's that, Steph?" I asked.

"Fuck me," she said. "I really want you to fuck me."

I smiled as I glided into her and pushed my body forward, ending up in a smoldering kiss as I began to smoothly and leisurely stroke my cock in and out of her. Stephanie was tight. Very tight. Today, however, was different. Because of her enthusiasm. She was wetter than I had ever felt her, and she wanted it. A flip had switched. She urged me on. Usually, our intimate moments were tender, building up her confidence. I could only assume that I had finally broken down that wall and reached a new level with her.

"You do want to fuck," I said, pulling back and looking her face up and down.

"It feels really good, John," she said. "I've never felt like this with a man before."

"You must trust me," I said.

"I do," she said. "I really do trust you. You're not going to hurt me."

"I never would," I said. "Rita would kill me."

She dug her nails into my back, and we laughed. I didn't stop fucking her, and I didn't go any faster. Now, I wanted to savor it.

"What changed?" I finally asked.

"It's not one thing," she said. "I think it was just cumulative. I woke up today and just felt different."

"I'm glad," I said and kissed her.

I loved this new Stephanie. And I silently admired Rita for having been so right about the approach to take with her. Now, I realized that Stephanie wasn't just a curiosity. She was an untapped resource. One that would be a lot of fun beyond just playing the role of Rita's pet. She was morphing, growing into something more. Just how much more, I would find out -- and I got the first indications only a few minutes later. I never raised the speed or force of my thrusts beyond anything that could be described other than tender. The novelty of being with Stephanie made that sufficient for me to cum. She moaned appreciatively when she felt my load ejaculate inside her -- she said she liked the easier cleanup of a creampie -- and we made out for a little while before sitting up.

Her thick hair was a mess, and she brushed it back. I saw a curious, timid look on her face. We kissed some more, and I fondled her breasts, but the timidity kept coming to the forefront.

"I feel like you want to say something," I said.

She bit her lower lip.

"Go ahead," I said. "You know this is a safe space."

"It's just," Stephanie said and dropped her head, that gorgeous mane of blonde hair creating a cover for her face.

"Hey," I said, touching her thigh, "it's okay."

"I know this is going to sound crazy," she said. She hesitated. I stroked her skin to let her know I was listening and open to whatever she had to say. "I'm in love with Rita. So in love with her."

* * *

Needless to say, there was a lot for us to catch up on when the tour wrapped up. We wanted to catch up with our friends and start to put back together our seamless world that had been forced to stretch to accommodate everything that had been going on. It was hard when everyone got pulled in competing directions, but when the craziness stopped, it was awfully sweet to reconnect.

I craved the consistency of our family dinners. I wanted to sleep in my own bed with my wives. I was ready for the world to slow down, regardless of how much fun we had enjoyed. I had missed going to the Santa Monica Farmers' Market with Kat. I missed watching Rita play tennis. It was nice to wake up early and make coffee. I liked slipping into the shower with whichever of my wives was in it. It was a joy to be part of the family routine again. Just immersing myself again in the whole scene made me feel refreshed and energized.

The other thing I missed was all the impulses I could act upon in LA. And there was one impulse I had vowed I would take advantage of much more frequently now that I was back. It was something Rita was only too happy to help me with.

"She stops by every Thursday for her cum dump," Rita said with a laugh.

"I can't believe you and Crystal have made this I thing," I said, smiling at her.

"I'm surprised she wanted to keep up with it, honestly," Rita said. "But we've made it a game. She brings me all the cum she's collected during the week, and I give her lessons on how to fuck girls for her porn scenes, all in between bong rips."

"This is the most bizarre discussion to have," I said, closing the gap between Rita and me. She was going to play tennis later that afternoon and wore a short skirt and very tight polo. "But, I have to say, I'm kind of turned on right now."

"You should be," Rita said, taking a couple steps closer to me. "I look good today. And if you only knew how wet I was ..." Her voice trailed off.

I positioned myself just to Rita's side, straddling her left leg and pushing the crotch of my athletic shorts against her skirt-covered thigh. My hands dropped under the short hem and pushed up, confidently gliding over her ass as I lifted the white fabric.

"What time is Crystal supposed to get here?" I asked.

"Any minute," Rita whispered, her lips glistening and hovering near mine.

"Maybe you should cancel tennis this afternoon," I suggested.

"And why is that, my darling husband?" she said.

"I think I want to make a cum dump of my own in you," I said, sliding my hands around her waist.

"A fresh, hot load inside me from you?" she said before grazing her lips over mine. "I might just cum at the thought."

"Go ahead," I said. "Then squirt when I keep fucking you."

"Jesus, John," Rita breathed. "You can make me melt into a puddle just by saying that."

I was about to kiss her, but we were interrupted by the door bell. Crystal popped up on the television screen when the video kicked in. She wore a tight, short jeans skirt and a peach-colored tank top. Her erect nipples, the piercings clearly visible, poked through the thin fabric. She looked at the camera while she waited, reaching into her YSL Loulou with a practiced familiarity and fishing out a coke bullet. She did two quick toots.

"You should surprise her by opening the door," Rita said.

I felt my wife's hard nipples pushing through her polo shirt.

"And maybe you'll pick some Champagne and cut some lines?" I replied.

"I need to cancel tennis today," she said, a husky, erotic tone pouring off her lips.

I put my hand up her skirt and felt the smooth skin and welcoming warmth of her mound. My cock hardened, and I walked to the front door.

"Well, this is a nice surprise," I said, grinning as I flung it open.

"John!" Crystal shrieked. "Are you serious?"

She flung her arms around me and planted a tongue-forward kiss on me. She tasted like the spearmint gum she always chewed, with underlying notes of cocaine and strawberries. The girls had made a conscious effort to limit their cigarette intake, using vaping as a substitute.

"You came ready to party," I said, squeezing her ass.

"I thought Rita and I were going to have our usual Thursday rendezvous," Crystal said. "I have a feeling this is going to be even better."

She looked delicious. Crystal was a pretty girl when I first met her. But now? She had blossomed into something beyond any expectations. Six months into her porn career, she had taken on true bombshell qualities. She had increased confidence. Her styling was impeccable. She dripped sensuality nonstop. She had an insatiable sexual motor that drove her to instant stardom in her new profession. And underlying all that was the freshness and hint of innocence that Crystal retained.

"I can always just watch, if you prefer," I said. "I don't want to interrupt if you two already had plans."

"You think you can tease me with that dick I love so much and then pull back?" Crystal said, her lips brushing against mine. "You're going to fuck me, John. However you want. I'm your slut anytime you want me."

We were mid-kiss, and my hands groped Crystal's tits when Rita interjected.

"Maybe we start with some refreshments?" she said.

She already held cold glasses of Champagne in her hand and, after she handed them to us, presented the tray of lines that she had set on top of the bar.

"Come to mama," Crystal said, taking a long drink from her glass before setting it down and picking up a glass straw. "My favorite snack."

Rita's free hand was all over me while we watched Crystal snort two of the thick, long lines. She grabbed my cock from underneath and pulled me to her. She kissed me hotly.

"I'm so fucking horny right now," she said. "I want you to pound her while I ride her face. I want to see if she's learned the tricks I've taught her."

"I'm curious about the tricks she's learned from the porn guys," I said with a smile, and then we kissed.

"What about the porn guys?" Crystal said, reappearing to hand off the glass straw to Rita. She melted back into my arms while my wife went to indulge her favorite vice.

"Oh, I was just wondering what kind of tricks you may have learned since you started," I said.

"I don't know if there are any tricks," Crystal said, pressing her body against mine. "But I do know for sure I'm a total nymphomaniac. I can't fuck enough. It's all I want to do."

"Besides coke," I teased.

"Partying and fucking go hand-in-hand, John," Crystal said. "One in the same."

I ran my hands up and down Crystal's body and kissed her neck so I could watch Rita devour her two lines. Then it was my turn. I enjoyed having this unexpected distraction during the day. I took my time, listening to Rita and Crystal's conversation.

"I totally get it if the guys get tired of you collecting for me," Rita said, although I could tell by her voice that she didn't mean it. She craved her weekly cum delivery.

"Girl, please," Crystal said. "They love it. They love that I want to be a star and want our scenes to be natural. They love how into it I am. They're horn dogs as much as I am."

"Well, if it ever gets in the way of doing your job," Rita said, trailing off.

"Babe, this is my job," Crystal said. "I'm an insatiable cum slut who gets passed around among the Daydream boys." She paused. "And, okay, some of their friends, too."

Crystal laughed, and Rita's eyes got wide. The cocaine rush started to hit me as I approached them.

"Their friends?" Rita asked.

"Yeah, some other guys who are in porn," Crystal said. She bit her bottom lip. "I'm telling you, Rita. I'm such a nympho. And these guys all know how to fuck." She put special emphasis on the last word.

"I love it, girl," Rita said. "And I'm grateful that you are like the angel who feeds my addiction. I will literally do anything to say thanks."

She laughed vivaciously.

"Well, let's go fuck your husband," Crystal said. "I'm meeting Jason for a late lunch, and he's going to be so happy if I come to him filled."

"Seems like a fair trade to me," Rita said.

I worked my way between the two girls and put my arms around them. I kissed Rita, then Crystal, and we walked toward the stairs.

"Who's your favorite of the porn boys?" Rita asked.

"Jimmy," Crystal said without hesitation. We marched upstairs. "He and I just click. The chemistry is insane. He;'s rough but in just the right way. I love Johnny, too, but he's a little more mechanical, although, holy shit, that man has a tongue."

"Can I just say I'm glad you didn't say Tommy?" I said, and we laughed.

"Everyone knows Tommy is a bit of an ass," Crystal said. "But, I won't lie, that dick is so good. And he straight up seems really into Emily." She was referring to one of the other Daydream pornstars, who Tommy was still dating.

We moved into the first guest room at the top of the stairs, and Rita immediately pushed down my shorts and sank to her knees. Crystal stopped long enough to strip naked, then joined Rita. They kneeled in front of me, giggling as they began to share my cock. Rita started by running her tongue across the bottom of my cock, then sucking the head. Crystal slid seamlessly beneath Rita and took my balls into her mouth. I put my hands behind my head and gave out a long, satisfied sigh.

"Fuck, you two are amazing," I breathed.

This was an exquisite pleasure. I looked down and felt my cock throb harder as I watched the pair of blondes work their oral magic.

"Show John that trick," Rita said eventually to Crystal.

The budding pornstar adjusted her position, dropping lower on her knees, while Rita kept on sucking me. Crystal's tongue moved below my balls and resurfaced as it teased my asshole.

"That is a new trick," I said, sucking in my breath with surprise.

"Johnny loves it," Crystal said. "And I just want to be good at everything."

"Yeah, you're good at this already," I sighed as Crystal's tongue savored my asshole.

What was also good? Rita's mouth making love to my cock. She so easily deep-throated me and moaned as she did, sending vibrations through my shaft and a shiver up my spine because it felt so good. Rita sensed my heightened pleasure, and she backed off.

"I want to watch you fuck her," Rita said, standing up. She kissed me then added, "While she eats me out."

Crystal had been busy rimming me but overheard what Rita said.

"I love eating your pussy," she said, now pulling away from me. "And I love John's dick. Let's do it."

As Crystal laid down on the bed, positioning herself to let us pillage her body, I enjoyed the confidence of her movements. This was a new Crystal. Not just from long ago. But even in the last several months. Of course she had come miles from the fresh-faced innocence that I corrupted out of her years ago. But there was something different now. She had embraced her beauty and was flaunting it, and she coupled that with an unapologetic self-assurance that retained the undertone of that lost innocence. When I looked at her now, I knew she was going to be a star.

"Ride my face, Rita," Crystal said as Rita flung her thighs over her upper chest. "I love tasting your pussy."

Rita didn't waste a motion, settling her sweet mound onto Crystal's lips. She faced me as I settled between Crystal's thighs, pushing forward into her sopping cunt in an easy, fluid motion that elicited a gasp from our new favorite pornstar as soon as I bottomed out inside her. Rita leaned forward, moving her hips in a relaxed, controlled forward and backward motion on Crystal's tongue, which clearly had an instantaneous effect in pushing her toward orgasm. My wife smiled at me, her nipples fiercely erect, and I leaned forward to meet her in a kiss.

"You created this sex monster," Rita said to me, grinning.

"We all created it," I said. "And feed it."

Rita and I kissed again, and I pounded in and out of Crystal's cunt at a moderate pace. She was silky and slick. There was no inkling that she was getting pounded by pornstar cocks every day. She was as tight as ever and only grew more enthusiastic as I pushed her closer to the precipice of pleasure.

"Oh, fuck yeah, tongue my ass," Rita moaned. "Just like that. You're going to make me cum."

She looked at me, her dilated eyes becoming glazed as she succumbed to Crystal's skilled attention. Rita leaned back and pushed the focus to her pussy again. Her head flopped backward, and her fingers flew across her clit. Crystal happily ate her, but she let her hands wander up to her own tits, pinching and squeezing her own nipples with surprising force. I felt her clit harden against my shaft as I fucked her, and I sensed my own release coming in the near future.

My orgasm hit me like a freight train. I felt my balls tighten, and I was almost seeing spots from the intensity of it as Crystal squeezed me with outrageous spasms from her pussy. And just as I was about to pump her full of sperm, I felt a splash on my chest. Rita's voice hit an unnaturally high octave. She came and started squirting everywhere, covering Crystal's abdomen and me. Rita erupted two more times, showering us and creating an erotic slip-and-slide as I ejaculated inside Crystal.

"Fuck that was intense!" Rita said as she rolled off Crystal and went limp on the bed.

Crystal looked up at me with fire in her eyes. It was a look that said, even though she had cum, she wasn't even close to being done.

"It's such a shame I have to meet Jason for lunch," Crystal said, pushing herself off the bed with her elbows. "I could play with you two all day. It's so much fun."

"But at least he'll get to eat dessert first," Rita chimed in with a laugh.

Crystal slid off the bed and slipped on the skimpy thong she had worn.

"Don't want to lose a drop of that," she said.

She kissed me. I cupped her breasts, slick and sticky from Rita, and tasted my wife on her lips.

"I can't believe what a hot fuck you are," I said.

"You made me this way," Crystal said as she wiggled into her tight skirt and tank top again. "I could fuck all day, every day. Oh wait, I do."

We laughed. Rita finally pulled herself off the bed and stood next to me, her hands running over my skin softly.

"I think we've still barely touched the tip of the iceberg with you," I told Crystal, and Rita shot me a knowing, playful glance.

"I spent years in a cage," Crystal said. "I'm going to spend even longer making up for lost time."

She flashed a dimple-packed smile and kissed each of us on the lips before we walked her out. When the front door clicked closed, Rita pressed her lips into mine again.

"My pussy is still tingling," she said. "What if we take a shower together?"

"Great idea," I said, kissing her back and pulling her to me with my hands on her ass.

I couldn't keep my hands off her as we returned upstairs, this time to the master bathroom. I turned on all the many heads in the shower and activated the steam feature. As the heat fog built up and billowed out into the bathroom, Rita appeared like a goddess, holding a small mirror with four short lines of cocaine on it.

"Here you go, baby," she said, holding the mirror at my face level and passing me a glass straw. "You first and then you can feel the rush while you watch me."

I looked at her with adoration. She knew just how to get me ready for a second round as quickly as possible. So I put the straw in my left nostril and gave a quick snort. The coke flew up my nose, and I shook my head -- it never got old feeling the absence of any intense burn. The cocaine was too pure. I sniffed the second line and passed the straw back to her.

"It's been a while since we've been so carefree about partying during the day," I said.

Rita let her index finger glide over the mirror where the residue of my lines was left behind. She rubbed it on her gums and said, "It's probably been smart to have a little detox. But I have to tell you, darling, I'm feeling a little claustrophobic. I'm ready to bust out and be naughty."

"You've been working hard," I said, taking a step closer to her, feeling the heat radiating off her skin.

"Time to play hard," she said and lifted the straw to her nose.

She positioned the glass cylinder, now becoming cloudy from the steam pouring out of the shower, at the edge of the first line and closed her eyes just before she sniffed hard and drew it across the mirror. Her eyes flickered open again, just briefly, to line up the second trail of powder, then closed again as she inhaled sharply a second time. Her eyelids fluttered, and then her stare fixed on me. She pursed her lips into the shape of an O.

"Oh, that is just so smooth," she said and a smile crawled across her lips, which she licked for emphasis.

She repeated the mirror cleaning with her index finger, but this time offered me the residue. I gladly accepted it, and she rubbed it on my gums, adding to the chilly numbing sensation that spread across my face.

"I like the idea of playing hard," I said.

"I like the idea of you being hard," Rita parried back, her hand sliding to my crotch and cupping my balls and hardening cock.

"I'm kind of surprised your coke intake has gone down since you started at the agency," I observed.

"The people who come in don't care if you do the coke with them," she said. "Just that it's there for the taking."

"That takes self-control," I noted.

We got in the shower and began soaping each other up. I loved feeling her slick skin as the water and suds spilled over her.

"I've never had trouble with self-control," Rita finally replied, putting her arms around my neck. Her nipples dug into my chest, and I loved the feeling of her breasts mashed against me.

"You're also never without a purpose," I said.

"Of course not," she agreed. "I want to get to know everyone. I need a clear head to do that. And to read them. I think I've got a pretty good idea about who's good and who's ... someone to watch out for."

"Where does Old Katie fit on that spectrum?" I asked.

"Somewhere in between," Rita said. "Too scared to succumb to her bad impulses. I think she's scared straight. At least for now."

"Maybe she's learned some self-control," I said.

"Not when it comes to cocaine," Rita said. "She never says no to a line. I can see why you liked her so much in college."

She scrunched her nose and grinned at me, teasing.

"I want you," I said, pulling her tighter against me.

"You know you don't even have to ask," she said, turning around to let my cock nestle between her ass cheeks. She pulled one of my arms to wrap it around her waist, and she raised her right foot to place it on the generous bench that ran along the entire length of the shower. We put it there solely to make shower sex easier.

"But I love hearing you say yes," I said.

"It's the only answer I'll ever give you, my love," Rita said.

Watching Rita do the cocaine was all I needed to reach arousal for a second round, but her words made my cock even harder. I sank inside her, and she shuddered and let out a satisfied moan.

"God, your pussy does things to me," I said.

"Um, yeah," Rita said, tossing her wet hair over her shoulder and grinning at me. "It fucks you."

"Actually, it's my cock that does the fucking, I think," I said.

"Shut up and fuck me," she said. "This angle is perfect. You're going to make me cum."

I kept my left arm hooked around her waist, controlling my thrusts. My right arm climbed up her chest, and I fondled her tits. I loved feeling her hard, pebble-like nipples between my fingers. I loved the groans squeezing them harder elicited from her. I was a man possessed by a single goal -- making Rita cum. Although, admittedly, that sole goal dovetailed with my own desire to get off. Rita's velvety love canal never made that difficult. More often than not, I had to hold myself back. Even after all this time, I had never quite gotten used to the fact that Rita saved herself for me and my cock alone. Every time I was inside her, I felt like I should pinch myself.

"You're gonna make me cum, too," I panted.

"Don't hold back," Rita said, reaching one arm back and pulling my head into the crook of her neck. "I'll cum as soon as I feel your load in me."

I wondered if she was serious, so I decided to find out. I closed my eyes and felt the warm water cascade over us, peppered with the scattershot puffs of steam filling the shower. Neither of them were as warm or satisfying as the grip of Rita's pussy around my cock. There was something just beautiful about the way her body could simply propel me to the edge and force me over it.

"Baby, I'm cumming," I said, louder than I had intended but wanting to make sure she heard me over the water and steam.

With two more strokes, my balls tensed and unloaded again. I kept my hands on Rita's hips so I could push my cock as deeply inside her as possible, but she bucked against me, writhing her legs from side to side to keep any movement going.

"Don't stop, don't stop!" she pleaded. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Sweetie, I'm cumming so hard!"

When Rita stopped quivering, and we finally mustered the strength to stop kissing and get out of the shower to dry off, I felt truly satisfied. Crystal was fun -- more fun than I deserved -- but nothing compared to my wives. Yet despite that satisfaction, I knew that the primal, animalistic urges had awakened in me. We had been busy with real life things of late. But now I felt like it was time to go on the hunt again. Hedonism always required some give-and-take. You couldn't always keep the pedal to the metal. Not even us. But the desire struck me once more.

As if reading my mind, when she finished drying her hair, Rita turned to me as she tapped out some more cocaine onto the mirror.

"I don't know why, but I feel like I don't want to stop partying today," she said. "I think it's time to be a little wild again."

"A little wild?" I queried.

"Okay, a lot wild," she said, bending over to sniff a line that was bigger than her previous ones. "We've pulled back. We've focused on work. I think we need to lose ourselves in the fantasy of this lifestyle again."

"And which lifestyle is that, my love?" I said, grinning knowingly.

"The parties," she said. "The partying. The debauchery. I miss it. I think I need it. I think you do, too."

"I swear to god, Rita," I said, drawing her close to me, "it's like you crawled inside my head and stole my thoughts."

"I have an idea," she said.

"Lay it on me," I said.

"It's only a month until the Oscars," she said. "You know Juliet is going to take it home. Again. We should do something huge. Something bigger than we've ever done before."

"Bigger?" I said. "Is that even possible?"

"Of course it is, you goof," Rita said.

"Let's talk to the others about it tonight," I suggested.

"That's what I was thinking," Rita agreed. "But there's one other thing, too.

"What's that?" I said.

"If we're going to throw ourselves down the hill of hedonism again," she said, "I think you should take each of us on a couples trip before we do it. Those are always so special."

"I love that idea," I said and kissed her before she did a second line.

"I have a little twist in mind this time," she said.

"Oh yeah?" I said, arching my eyebrows. "What's that?"

"The girls who aren't going on that trip?" Rita said. "Get to plan it for the two of you."

"I love it," I said. "It's brilliant."