Kat and I had reached a dangerous turning point in our affair. Practical realities for both of us precluded debauched days like the one at the Marriott Marquis very often. Her work schedule was demanding, and she had a boyfriend to navigate. We started to broach the topic of how we could go places together without compromising her reputation. My work wouldn't tolerate slacking off, and the frequency of my 3 a.m. wake-up calls would take a toll. By nature, I was more of a night owl than a morning person. I'd rather stay out until 5 a.m., which I frequently did on my regular trips to Vegas, then wake up with the sunrise.
While we worked on navigating those logistical barriers, we started to play games. Mostly over text. And that's when I began to realize the depth of potential we had, from a purely sexual adventure standpoint. What became clear was that we both liked to escalate, to increase the risk level. Kat hadn't been lying in that initial message to me where she proposed our affair. The risk amplified the fun. To make a game of it enhanced it.
It started in fairly cliche fashion. I told Kat that she had to send a picture proving the day each week she wore her butt plug to work. As a reward, I bought her a set of princess plugs with jewels to match her favorite work dresses--red, blue, and pink. I loved secretly knowing that the traffic girl was plugged on the air. But I wanted more.
"I've got a new task for you today," I said one morning during a tryst, as I began to assert my control over her. She was in the middle of sucking my cock and pulled off with that excited mischief in her eyes.
"Yes, sir?" she said. It wasn't a serious tone of submission. It was always playful.
"I'm going to cum in your ass," I said, matter-of-factly, "And then plug you. So you'll be plugged with an ass full of my sperm."
Kat's body shimmied a little. She stood up and kissed me. "That is so naughty," she said huskily. "I love it. And does Kitty Kat get a reward if she obeys you, daddy?"
"I'm not done," I said. She raised her eyebrows. "You have to find a way to mention the word 'plug' on the air."
She laughed. "Oh my god," she said. "That is hot. I'll do it."
"I'll be watching," I said.
Our frequency of anal sex had increased greatly after the Marriott Marquis day. Kat was an adept and eager student of it. We quickly had passed the point of needing lube, which opened up many delicious possibilities. And the butt fuck on this morning was quick and urgent. We were both turned on by my debauched proposal.
I watched Kat's broadcast, and she handled it masterfully. I couldn't stop grinning when KBRK cut to her report midway through the 6 a.m. hour, and she opened with, "Thanks, Steve, we are watching two accidents on the inbound I-10, which has it seriously plugged as a result."
Maybe it was adolescent, but I adored our dirty little secret. And Kat must have, too, because she texted me right after. "How did I do?" she asked.
"Perfect, baby," I said. "I'm working on your reward right now. It's going to be a grand gesture. Watch out. And be prepared!"
"What is it?" she inquired.
"That would ruin the surprise. But let's just say it will feed your wild side like a 20-course tasting menu."
***
I began planning in earnest. It was early February, four months into our relationship, and we had only had the one day away. Kat had mentioned that her boyfriend took an annual boys' trip that coincided with the first weekend of the NCAA men's basketball tournament. This year, that weekend overlapped with St. Patrick's day, and he and his buddies had chosen New Orleans for their Thursday-Sunday destination. This detailed knowledge led me to really appreciate that Kat and I had begun talking a great deal about her significant other.
From the outside, and even to me, it might have seemed bizarre to learn so much about her relationship with her boyfriend. Why not just break up, and we could be together? I knew that wouldn't really work. I wasn't the kind of guy the traffic girl needed on her arm. The boyfriend was. Wealthy family. Worked at a small investment fund. Fourth-generation Texan. Made all the command performances. Let Kat be the star. And maybe that was the most important thing. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't bitter. Or jealous. I had exactly what I wanted. I liked knowing about their relationship because it gave me the knowledge I needed to make my affair with Kat even hotter. It allowed me to set up scenarios where we could push the boundaries further and further. For a time, at least. Until things would get ... I wasn't prepared to think about it quite yet. I was having too much fun.
If the boyfriend was gone for four days, I could safely get Kat out of town for two. My last trip to Vegas had been just before Kat and I started fucking. It had been a memorable weekend with a showgirl acquaintance who didn't mind being spoiled when I came to town. I knew Kat loved Vegas, too. She had told me about weekend trips she took when she lived in LA. She and Kelly would make a game of getting invited to pool club cabanas and see how much of a tab they could run up before undertaking the inevitable quid pro quo of fucking their hosts.
I booked a Thursday night flight that would have us into Vegas by 9 p.m., time enough for a late dinner. Or room service. I called my host at the Wynn and set up a Parlor Suite for two nights. I made dinner reservations at Wing Lei and Joel Robuchon. Then I texted Kat.
"For your reward, I need you to take the day off on March 16," I instructed.
"Weekend getaway?" she responded, with a fingers crossed emoji.
"Boyfriend in NOLA, yes?"
"For four days," she said.
"I'll tell you the details next time I see you," I said. I wanted to see her reaction in person. I suppose I liked to see the reactions in real time to a grand gesture.
"Come over tomorrow?" she said.
