Author's Note: Time for a little bit of crazy! Please enjoy and have a Happy Thanksgiving!
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"Oh my god, is this just for us?" Riri exclaimed as we walked up to the Gulfstream G600.
I put my hand on the small of her back and guided her the short distance to the open stairs leading up to the cabin door.
"Now do you believe I'm not full of shit?" I asked playfully.
"We never thought you were full of shit," Riri's friend, Kenzie, said. "Well, maybe just a little. But not now!"
It was 10 a.m. on Thursday, and the heat was already rising from the asphalt tarmac. August in Houston was the best time of year to escape the city, even if you were going to the desert. We'd be in Las Vegas before lunch.
Riri and Kenzie held up their end of the bargain, bouncing excitedly into the limo when I picked them up that morning before heading to the airport. I had promised them $3,000 each for the weekend, half up front and half on the flight home. Kat and Jess were preparing for the first pro football party of the season, so it was the perfect time for me to get away. And two 24-year-old party girls were my ideal distraction.
The girls both wore skin-tight athleisure shorts that left half their ass cheeks hanging out. Midriff-baring shirts and huge piles of extension-laden blonde hair completed the picture of my Vegas bimbos on parade.
I let them ascend into the jet first, enjoying immensely watching their asses rise to face level with me. Riri had a thick, juicy ass. Her curves and tiny waist were alluring. Kenzie was skinny, with a toned ass and huge tits. She took the bimbo prize, to be sure, but she gave off an aloof vibe. Riri was, without hesitation, a slut who liked to show off.
"Good morning, Christy," I said as I entered the jet. "So nice to see you again."
"Good morning, Mr. Cameron," the flight attendant said cheerfully. "How are Kat and Jess doing?"
"Busy!" I said. "A major social engagement this weekend, so I've had to find a way to distract myself."
"It looks like you'll have plenty of that on your hands," she said.
"Well, since you keep refusing to join me on an adventure, I guess I'll have to make do," I teased.
Christy had become my usual flight attendant while flying private, which now was most of the time. She was young, beautiful, and liked to spar with me verbally. But I never had succeeded in getting her to participate in any debauchery. She was, however, extremely good at her job and had an uncanny ability to look the other way.
"You'll find your catering arrangements have been taken care of," she said.
"I knew they would be," I said. "Thanks, Christy." I slipped her a $100 bill.
Riri and Kenzie were fawning over the jet, trying out the different seats -- spinning around in the captain's chairs and laying out on the long bench seats -- and engaging in a quick photoshoot for their social media. It was that kind of fake posturing for Instagram that bored me, and I reminded myself to get these girls fucked up as quickly as possible. I could handle the immaturity and social climbing long enough to defile their magnificent bodies. They could show the outside world how upper-class they appeared, but I knew who they were in reality. They were whores. My whores. That's all that mattered.
We were airborne less than ten minutes after coming aboard. As we left Houston behind us, Christy poured Dom Perignon for us. When she put the bottle on ice, she gave me a knowing glance and retired to her jump seat.
"How is it, girls?" I said, raising my glass to toast them, sitting across the table from me.
"I could get used to this," Riri said.
"Seriously," Kenzie said. "Thanks, John, for being legit." Every bit of her face was sculpted, from her eyebrows to her fake lashes, obvious nose job, and very full lips.
"For real," Riri agreed. "There are so many flakes out there."
"To making some great memories in Vegas," I said. We clinked glasses. "Have you ever flown private before?"
They both shook their heads.
"It's so much easier," I said. "You just walk on and get where you're going. The Champagne is great. And the more lax security makes it easier to get the party started."
I took a vial of cocaine out of my jeans pocket and set it on the table.
"I really like to party," I said. The lustful stare that Kenzie gave confirmed what I had suspected about her. Riri was easier.
"Oh, well, we like to keep things real and classy," Riri protested briefly.
I took her hand and shut her down.
"It's okay, sweetie," I said. "I wanted to bring you both to Vegas because I know you're party girls. You can just be yourselves with me."
"But," Riri said, but I cut her off again.
"You had a couple flakes left on your nose when you came back from the bathroom at happy hour," I said. "It's when I knew for sure we'd have a lot of fun."
After a brief frown, she flashed a brilliant, whitened-teeth smile.
"I would love a couple bumps," she said. She glanced at Kenzie, who looked like she was ready to climb out of her chair.
"Help yourselves to as much as you want," I said. "There is a ton more where this came from."
Kenzie didn't need me to tell her twice. I had already ground up the coke in the vial, so I simply handed her a heavy credit card. With the speed of a wild west gunfighter drawing his sidearm, she poured the entire contents -- about three grams -- onto the table and parceled it out into a dozen lines. She looked at the powder with unwavering adoration.
"There we go," she said, tapping the credit card firmly against the table, then licking both sides of the edge before handing it back to me.
"Impressive," I said and passed her the silver straw I carried in the coke kit. "Ladies first."
Kenzie didn't even contemplate letting Riri go first. She accepted the straw and, like someone stranded in the desert finally getting a drink of water, seamlessly snorted two lines. She passed the straw to Riri. Delicately, to keep her comically long, fake red fingernails from poking herself in the eye, she rubbed her nostrils together and made eye contact with me.
"Wow," Kenzie said. "That is fantastic shit."
Riri followed suit with equal familiarity, and her response was just as enthusiastic.
"Oh, fuck," she said. "That's no joke. Your plug is legit." She rubbed her nose, too, and turned to me. "Did I get it all this time?" She flashed a mischievous smile.
