Author's Note: Here's another long one, my friends. Jess and John get away to Cabo. Of all our characters, these two maybe have been through the most together. Where does their future lie? I hope this chapter answers that for you.
* * *
Hawaii had been a fantasy, but I had three more fantasies to live out. In the meantime, life at home in LA was cruising along smoothly. I took a couple days to attend to business, which had only been getting easier and easier as Jason took on more of the day-to-day operations. He and Crystal were six weeks away from closing on their house in LA, which was going to make life even more fun.
While Rita and I were gone, Kat had gotten her nipples pierced again. Daydream had plugged away, with Kayla filming a teaser scene with the Sausage King, which would have the industry buzzing. But the porn industry was already buzzing because Manny had very publicly gone out and announced he dumped Kayla and was signing with a new company that was known for dark, rough, deeply kinky scenes. It seemed to suit his personality and would help ensure he left us alone.
In the whirlwind of moving from one trip to the next, there was one essential thing we all agreed we needed to do. We took Katie to get her initials tattoo on her pelvis, and each of us added another K to ours. Katie was almost in tears from happiness as the "JKJRK" appeared on the porcelain skin near her pubic mound. It was emotional for all of us to get the additional K, like receiving a sacrament. We celebrated with dinner at Spago, which had become tradition for marking family occasions.
The next afternoon, Thursday, I waved to the girls at the top of the driveway again en route to Burbank airport. This time, Jess sat next to me, her face relaxed and her hand soft and gentle in mine.
"You need this," I said, grinning at her. "You've earned it."
"It is going to be so good to get away," Jess said.
She wore a green A-line dress that flowed around her body and revealed a lot of neckline. And she looked relaxed. It had been a long time since I saw that much peace in her face.
"I've been craving some time with you," I said.
"If it's anything like Rita's trip, we are in for a fun weekend!" she said enthusiastically.
"I want it to be whatever you want," I said.
"I don't even want to leave the room," she said. "I just want us to lose ourselves in each other."
"It's a good thing we have a beachfront suite," I said. "We won't be bored for a minute."
"I couldn't stop looking at the pictures online," she said. "That plunge pool? Oh my god."
"And a butler to cater to our every whim," I said.
"What I want the most isn't something a butler can provide," she said.
"Eh, in Mexico? They can provide a lot," I said with a chuckle.
"Mine needs to be exceptionally pure," she said playfully.
"Maybe we brought too much?" I said.
"You know how my appetite for cocaine is," she said.
There was an erotic tension building between us. Jess had asked that our getaway harken back to the days when we first met. We would take weekend trips, where we basically locked ourselves in a hotel room and passed two or three days in a blur of coke-fueled fucking.
"You want a little pre-flight snack?" I whispered in her ear before nibbling it.
"I had a couple lines with the girls before we left," she said, "but a bump can't hurt."
I fished out a coke bullet from my pocket and passed it to Jess, who discreetly bent down and inhaled a bump in each nostril. She handed it back to me, and I followed suit. An off-the-rails weekend with Jess was always a treat, and I regretted it had been so long since we had one.
"What are you thinking?" she asked me as I stared out the window.
"Oh," I said, coming back to reality, "I was just realizing it's been way too long since we've had one of our wild little weekend trips. Way, way too long."
"Let's turn back the clock this weekend," Jess said. "I was thinking how fun it would be like on our old weekend getaways when I was still in college. Like when we went to Austin or New Orleans."
"Those were so fucking wild," I said.
"Think you can keep up?" she asked.
"I was going to challenge you with the same question," I said and put my face close to hers.
Jess had a deeply mischievous look on her face. I stared at her expectantly, wanting to know what was on her mind. She held out briefly, then spoke.
"Want to make a bet?" she said.
"Yes," I said. "What are your terms?"
"I bet you can't cum more than seventeen times," she said.
"Six times each day?" I said smugly. "Easy."
"It only counts at the resort," she said. "Not before and not after."
"That's going to make for a hell of a teasing plane ride," I said.
"Isn't that the best kind?" Jess said with a laugh.
* * *
In five minutes, we were at the airport. Ten minutes later, we were airborne. And three hours after that? We were led to our palatial beachfront suite at the Waldorf Astoria Los Cabos Pedregal. It was an insane setup. It wasn't a suite. It was a two-story house, right on the beach, maybe fifty feet from the ocean. The dining room and living room were both covered but open-air. There was an infinity plunge pool at the rear of the back patio, along with a private cabana just at the edge of the beach. The master bedroom on the second floor had a large terrace overlooking the ocean view, complete with lounge chairs and a fire pit. It was an extraordinary, thoughtfully laid out space, and we took advantage of that immediately.
The butler unpacked us, but we didn't have many clothes. Jess had two sundresses and three barely-there bikinis. I had swim trunks, a couple pairs of shorts, and a couple t-shirts. We weren't planning on being in public or clothed very often. There was no doubt it would be a coked up fuckfest. And I couldn't be more excited about it.
Jess was out ahead of me. After I inspected our closet, chuckling to myself at how few articles of clothing we had between us -- and impressed that the butler hadn't batted an eye at it -- I found Jess on the cusp of the second-floor bedroom terrace. There was a chair and ottoman parallel to a beautifully smooth wooden ledge that opened to the outside. The weather was glorious, hot but with unseasonably mild humidity. Jess kneeled on the ottoman, which left her at the perfect height to cut lines across the ledge. She had cut off a chunk of perfect flake cocaine and was chopping it up with loving enthusiasm. She was an artist, and coke was her true medium.
