Traffic Girl Highway To Hell Ch 12

Author's Note: This chapter tracks the first football party of the season. It should give you a picture of where the levels of debauchery and hedonism will be going over the next few months in the timeline of the story. Good times and challenges ahead!

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"Good to see you, bro," Johnny Burris said, giving me a hybrid high-five/handshake/hug as I greeted him at the door of the Hooker House.

"Yeah, man, come on in," I said. "The girls are almost ready."

Four hours earlier, Burris had thrown four touchdowns in a season-opening win for Houston's pro football team. Now here he was, joining seven of his teammates at a post-game party with six girls from Jess's escort agency.

I was surprisingly nervous. Of course, I had never been to an orgy before and not been a participant. Heck, I had only been in a couple situations that might be considered orgies. Well, maybe more than a couple. But on this night, I was strictly an observer. Ostensibly, I was there for the girls' comfort, a familiar face to ensure nothing got out of hand. I don't know what Jess thought I could do in the face of eight pro football players if it did get out of hand, but, as it turned out, they were an affable group eager to indulge in a relentless night of partying and sex.

Most of the time, I hung out at the makeshift bar I'd put together in the kitchen next to the wine cabinet. My perch had a good view of the living area inside and pool outside. It would be an evening to indulge my voyeuristic desires, and I figured that couldn't be a bad thing. I soaked in the scene, slinging the occasional drink, and chatting with the players. The girls paraded around in bathing suits that varied in their degrees of skimpiness. Shelly stuck close to Johnny Burris, who she was now dating but also still got paid to fuck. Alix and Brittany, as usual, were the life of the party. My Kat and Jess, in my view, added an air of sexy refinement to the proceedings. And Gloria? Well, she didn't even wear a bathing suit. She sported her hot pink "BIMBO" choker and a pair of panties that had "Cum in me" written in script across the front. The atmosphere was electric, probably due to the team's big and unexpected win that day. The guys were in the mood to party. The girls were in the mood to party. It was a recipe for fireworks.

And the fireworks started early. Half the guys followed Alix and Brittany outside to go skinny dipping and have naked chicken fights. Half the guys stayed inside with Kat, Jess, Gloria, and Shelly and quickly started a race to see how much cocaine they could make disappear.

Unsurprisingly, my eyes instinctively followed Kat and Jess around the room. There was a relaxed confidence about each of them in social situations like this. They showed poise and a natural flirtatiousness, even if they looked like sluts in exaggerated makeup and thong bikinis.

Kat rapidly had paired off with David Johnson, an all-pro linebacker who made my girlfriend look almost miniature. He was six feet tall but utterly jacked. Every muscle in his body seemed rippled, and he showed no hesitation in treating Kat like his own. His presence dominated her, and I could see she liked that. There were casual touches, but Johnson was in charge. If he wanted more coke, Kat was there snorting lines with him. I wondered if he was one of the players who had double-penetrated her at the preseason party.

Equally quickly, Jess had gotten together with Kevin Austin, the team's best wide receiver. He was tall and lanky, with a personality that filled the room. Seeing their body language and interactions, I knew Jess had fucked him before. He was precisely her type, and it was rare that I got to observe her in a social setting like this, moving around on the arm of another man.

"John, do a bump off my titties," Gloria said, shaking me out of my entranced state from watching the girls. "And give me some more Champagne!"

She was high as a kite, even though the party was barely thirty minutes old. I knew Gloria well, and the glaze in her eyes told me that she was rolling hard on molly. It was her favorite drug. She dropped a small bump of coke she cradled in a long, fake fingernail onto her breast. I obliged by snorting it up and giving a quick lick of the remnants.

She leaned close and whispered, "I would take a load of cum inside me from every one of these guys. They are so fucking hot. I want them all."

I just grinned at her and filled up her Champagne again.

"This setup really is some shit," said Johnny Burris, who stopped at the bar.

"It's great, right?" I said.

"It's like a slutty Barbie Dream House," he said. That made me laugh.

"So you and Shelly, huh?" I said.

"She's a hot little piece, isn't she?" he responded.

"No offense, but I can speak from experience that she is," I said.

Burris laughed. "Offense? Shit, I should be thanking you," he said. "She told me you're the anal guru. She wouldn't let me in that hot fucking ass if it weren't for you." He offered me a high five, and I couldn't help but grin at the jocklike fun of it.

"Glad to know I'm good for something!" I said.

"Dave, David," Burris said, signalling Johnson to come over, "you've got to meet John."

"Hey, David," Johnson said, extending his huge hand.

"John," I said. "Awesome to meet you." His handshake was firm, confident. His hand dwarfed mine despite me being a couple inches taller. Kat clung to his arm, but her eyes bored into me as she took a drink from a plastic cup.

"John is one of our hosts," Burris said. "Jess and Kat are his girlfriends."

"No shit?" Johnson said. As if reflexively, he put a hand on the small of Kat's back. "You are one lucky motherfucker." We all laughed.

"I am," I acknowledged. "And you can make yourself at home tonight. My house is your house. Even if it's a whore house." We laughed again.

"Thanks for sharing," Johnson said. "Seriously. We're going to go check out the pool."

Kat lingered behind for a moment.

"Are you doing okay, baby?" I asked.

"Daddy, I'm having so much fun," she said a bit unsteadily. "Dave gave me this drink? Oh my god. It's hydrocodone syrup and something? I feel like I'm being hugged by a cloud."

"You are so high, Kitty Kat," I said and let my hand run across her back. At the same time, Johnson came back to collect her.

"Babe," he said, cupping her pert cheerleader's ass, "you've gotta see the crazy shit going on outside."

"Just let me grab another line," she said and pecked me on the cheek before walking away.

Kat met Jess at the adjacent counter, which was covered with lines of cocaine. My cock stirred as I watched my girlfriends bend over in tandem and snort, their asses on glorious display. I saw Kat say something to Jess, then pass her the plastic cup. Jess took a sip. Her eyes lit up, and she took another one. They smiled at each other and returned to the men who had commanded their attention.

I hadn't realized Johnny Burris still stood close to me. Shelly attacked the coke after Kat and Jess had vacated, so he was waiting for her.

"How can you stand just watching?" he asked me.

"What, the girls?" I asked. He nodded. "I've known them a long time. This is part of who they are. You can either get on board, or get out of the way. I feel like you can relate, what with Shelly and all."

"Yeah, man, the money doesn't hurt, either," Burris said.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a guy who'd be cool with his girlfriend having ... this job," I said.

"Shit, man," Burris said. He paused, as if emphasizing what a laid back guy he was. "I like a little space. Shelly gets to do her thing and makes good money. I get to do my thing when I want to, you know?"

"Trust me," I said. "I know."

We were interrupted by a commotion from outside. I watched from the door and saw that Brittany and Alix had challenged each other to a blow job race. They wanted to see which of them could suck off a guy fastest. I was about to go watch when I heard my phone, at the bar, ping. I picked it up and swiped to my messages without thinking.

"I just sucked this guy for an hour, and my jaw is so sore, but he didn't even cum," I read. It was from Nicole.

"How is that possible with your mouth?" I wrote back.

I was returning to the back door when my phone pinged again.

"And when I was wearing this, too," Nicole had written back. Beneath the message loaded a picture. It was her, standing in front of a hotel room's bathroom mirror, wearing a sheer bodysuit.

"Criminal," I responded. My mind wandered to her soft skin and the hot, wet, insistent way her mouth sucked cock.

"Look how wet it made me," she wrote back. A second picture popped up. It was a shot of her perfectly manicured hand, the index and middle fingers covered in strings of thick, clear pussy juice. Before I could respond, a video arrived. I pressed play, and was greeted immediately by the image of a purple vibrator pushing in and out of her pussy. It was sexy, but the best part was the audio. It was simply the squishing sound of the toy penetrating her. She was not lying about how wet she was.

"What a shame all that honey goes to waste," I typed quickly.

Inside the Hooker House, there wasn't much going on. Johnny Burris and Shelly had quickly gone off to one of the four bedrooms already. But most of the action took place outside. The girls were naked and frolicking in the pool, only coming back inside for cocaine or to get more weed for the various smoking implements that floated around.

"When I get this wet, I don't even need lube for my asshole," Nicole texted.

My cock had become uncomfortably hard. For the first time, I didn't appreciate not having an outlet for relief. My hand wasn't a satisfactory option. Almost every woman I could fuck in Houston was in the house and preoccupied. It hadn't occurred to me that, with two girlfriends and access to a stable of ten hookers, I'd ever be left high and dry for an evening. Nicole seemed like a fun distraction, so I kept up the text chain with her.

"You don't need lube anyway," I wrote her back, hoping she would pick up my teasing tone. All the times we had had anal, we hadn't used lube.

"What I need is dick," she said.

"Well, if you think your predicament is bad," I wrote, "let me one-up you. I'm basically at an orgy, but I'm a voyeur only. Look but don't touch. Long story."

"That sounds like pure tortue," she said. "It's a shame we're so far away."

"You know, it kind of is," I replied. "Because I would absolutely wreck your cunt tonight."

Nicole sent the tears-streaming emoji, then said, "Are you coming out here soon?"

"Nothing planned," I said.

"Maybe I could come see you sometime," she said.

"That would be fun," I said without really thinking about it.

And that's the moment my night took another unexpected turn. I was distracted from my phone by Kat and David Johnson coming inside. Kat was blitzed. She hung all over him, her bikini top only holding in one of her breasts now, and her pupils as wide as a full moon.

"Davey, take me to the special room," she said, slurring. "Show me all the dark and dirty things you want to do."

She spotted me and ran over briefly. "Baby, I love you," she said. "Thank you for letting me be me."

I hugged her, patted her ass, and whispered, "Go make him want to tip you and see you again, my sweet little whore." Kat was too wasted to realize it, but I admitted to myself that my tone was half-hearted. I wanted in on the action.

That's when I picked up my phone and did a double take. Nicole hadn't written back, but I had a notification from Rita Johnson. That was unusual for a Sunday night at 9 p.m.

"Hey you," she said, "just seeing how you're faring during the first football party. Not too lonely?"

"I'm playing chaperone and bartender," I said. "Kind of. It's weird to feel like an outsider around people I know so well, but it's also kind of fun. What are you doing?"

"Just took a bath and changed into a pink silk nightie," she said.

"That's just really unfair," I replied.

"No, what's unfair is that my husband is blackout drunk and spread across my entire bed, so I can't even go to sleep," she said.

"Pink, silk, and nightie are not words that belong in the same sentence as being passed out," I said.

"Tell me about it," she said, adding a frowny face emoji.

"How can I make it better?" I asked.

"Sounds like you're stuck at work," she said.

"I think things are winding down here for me," I said. "Too bold if you snuck over to my place?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said.

I saw the flashing triple dots, indicating Rita was still typing. So I waited. It gave me a chance to glance out the French doors to the back yard. It happened to be just at the moment Jess was leading Kevin Austin away from the pool, to the dark recesses of the back yard and its abundant trees. It took me a moment to realize he was nude and sporting an impressive erection. My phone buzzed in my hand.

"Can you be careful?" Rita had written to me.

I pushed on my phone screen to send a question mark tapback.

"I don't want to play with my vibrator, but I took an edible that Kat gave me and don't want to drive," she said. "Can you be careful?"

My heart started to thump in my chest. "I can be careful," I tapped out on my phone. "Is it safe?"

"Yes," she said. "No cameras. You can park in the alley."

"That seems risky," I said, showing a shocking amount of restraint and decorum. My little head reminded me of the words I'd heard: Rita, pink nightie, high, doesn't want to use her vibrator. My big head conjured up visions of a drunk, angry husband waking up while I was balls deep in his wife.

"He is so fucked up he's going to piss the bed tonight. Again," Rita said. "He's upstairs. On the other side of the house. Park at the end of the alley. Walk up along the tree line. The back gate is open. Take off your shoes at the back door."

"You're serious," I said. My cock was throbbing, draining blood away from the big head and its logical reasoning. And then she did it. She texted a selfie, her lips in duck face, and her perfect tits proud, nipples hard, behind them in a sheer pink nightgown. Rita had never sent a racy picture to me ever before. I made up my mind.

"Address?" I wrote. I didn't even know where she lived. She responded with it immediately. It was only fifteen minutes away.

Before leaving, I did a quick survey of the Hooker House. Brittany and Alix were up to their eyeballs with three guys in the pool. Gloria was on her knees giving a double blowjob, a sheen of cum covering her tits. I made the executive decision that I wouldn't be missed. I was tempted to listen at the sex dungeon door to check in on Kat, but instead I just walked to my car with a hop in my step.

It took incredible self-control not to drive like a maniac, but I did and made it to Rita's quickly thanks to favorable traffic lights. I parked at the end of her alley, near where it dead-ended, three houses from hers. I was surprised and appreciative it wasn't more well-lit. I walked along the fence line and cut over at the back gate.

"Here," I texted her simply.

I looked at the gate's latch mechanism and took a deep breath. It had been a long time since I felt such an intense thrill. I opened the gate and didn't look back. I crossed the backyard, probably looking like an idiot tiptoeing across it. I passed the pool and walked toward the French doors near it. I approached them and took my shoes off. Inside, I saw a shadow move, and my heart rose to my throat.

"Hey there, handsome," Rita whispered.

And there she was, backlit by the faint light on in the living room behind her, a dirty blonde vision with her slightly-too-long nose, delicate neck, and hall-of-fame breasts. Her slender waist allowed the wispy pink fabric of her nightie to crimp in slightly before flushing out at her hips, creating a natural V pointing straight down at the tightly tucked, smooth and bare lips of her vagina. I drank her in and took another deep breath, trying to control my heartbeat.

"You are a fucking vision," I said quietly.

Rita leaned forward and giggled. We looked at each other, exchanging a rhetorical look asking if this was crazy.

"Come on," she said, waving me inside. "You want a glass of wine?"

I nodded and continued my comical, exaggerated walk, trying to put my feet down without any pressure on the hardwood floors. As if that would do anything if her husband woke up. Rita had a bottle and two glasses ready, pouring us each one.

"Don't forget to wash at least one of these," I admonished her as she handed me one.

"Shut up," she said and kissed me.

We sat on opposite sides of the couch from each other, nerves clearly getting the better of us for the moment. I listened for any sounds coming from upstairs. Rita noticed.

"Trust me," she said. "He isn't going to wake up."

"Don't blame me for being careful," I said. I drank the wine quickly, and it helped calm my nerves.

"I can't believe I asked you to come over," she said. "I literally have never done anything like this in my whole life before."

"Neither have," I said and stopped. "Okay, I can't lie. I've done things like this. But, I have to admit, this feels different."

"So that party sounds like something else," Rita said, making a fist and putting it under her chin while she toyed with the bowl of the wine glass in her other hand. She inhaled deeply through her nose, and it made her chest protrude beautifully behind the barely there pink fabric.

"It was partly fun and partly so strange," I said. "Honestly, I was surprised at how bored I was. You know how much I love Kat and Jess. But there was a business-like aspect to it that I don't know how to describe. They were super convincing and into it, but ... does this make sense? I knew it was all for money."

Rita leaned forward a bit. Her tongue protruded slightly to lick her lips. "I bet some of those guys are serious hunks," she said.

I chuckled then stopped myself. I listened for any sound.

"Seriously," Rita said. "He's not going to wake up."

"They are physical specimens," I said.

"It almost makes me wish I could fuck for money," she said. "Football players were always kind of my thing."

I scooted closer to her.

"I don't think you'd need to fuck for money to get any football player you wanted," I said.

She scooted closer to me, too.

"But I'm married," she said.

I looked at her quizzically.

"There's someone I want to fuck more than football players anyway," she added.

I arched my eyebrows. We both leaned forward, and our lips met. It was a soft kiss, as if our lips were trying to be quiet, too. But the first, tentative flicks of our tongues made restraint impossible. Rita put her hand behind my head, pulling me into her, and I quickly grabbed her hips and pulled her on top of me.

"I was so glad when you texted tonight," I said.

"Is this stupid?" she asked.

I grabbed her hand and guided it to the crotch of my shorts.

"What do you think?" I responded.

Her eyes flashed with lust.

"We have to be quiet," she said.

"Now you tell me?" I said, and we swallowed a mutual laugh.

Our eyes locked, and I attacked her mouth again. Rita was beautiful. She was the antidote for the strange night I had endured. My hands finally ran up her rib cage and across her breasts, cupping them and relishing their familiar perfection. She spread her legs, inviting me closer to her. My hands dropped down to her thighs and grabbed the bottom of her nightie, pulling it over her head in a one swift motion.

"All I could think about tonight was your dick," Rita said.

I let a cocky grin cross my face. I leaned back on the middle cushion of the couch.

"Well, why don't you come get it?" I said, gripping my cock with my fist.