Traffic Girl Katie Ch 02

Author's Note: Sorry for the time between chapters. This one contains a pretty significant bondage scene, and it's something John and I both aren't super comfortable with. It's outside our usual operating zone, and I wanted to try to do it justice because I think it's important to our understanding of the characters here. This will be a key point of growth as we move forward. And, of course, there's lots of fun smut here.

* * *

The first Stages Tour after-party took two days to recover from. The massive entourage moved over to Phoenix for its next series of shows, and it tested our plans for keeping up with Katie while she moved around the continent. I went to each show, but flew home right after to spend the night at home. On the final night, all of us attended to cheer on Katie. It was more fun watching from backstage with Kat, Jess, and Rita with me. We were all incredibly proud of her, and you could see her blossoming with confidence as the tour progressed through each show.

Having the girls present made our usual acoustic set interlude a little more interesting. That's because there was an undercurrent of rivalry building between Emily and Kat. It started the first night in Phoenix, when Jake joined the mid-set blow job and asked Kat -- who joined me for all the Phoenix shows -- to give it to him. She hadn't been a part of the mid-show rendezvous before, and Emily, who was prideful and sassy, acted like Jake was doing it just to taunt her.

Jake was even-keeled, though, and ignored her attitude. On the second night, he did it again, and Emily was just as annoyed. Kat tried to smooth things over, but Emily didn't communicate. She acted purely on emotion. She ignored it when Jake pointed out that Emily was giving head to someone else. The tension was uncomfortable because it was so unusual. But Emily was young, only twenty-three, and this was her first big tour. The pressure for BowHaus, her and Jake's band, was huge.

So after their set the third and final night, Kat pulled Emily aside. Jake and I both saw it, and we sort of hovered over them nervously. These weren't the kind of fireworks anyone needed.

"Hey," Kat said, "do you wanna do a bump with me?"

Emily eyed her warily but said, "Yeah, cool."

We were still backstage, so Kat pulled out a coke bullet discreetly, and she steered the two of them behind some blackout curtains that hung nearby.

"What's that?" Emily asked, her eyes wide and nostrils flaring. She had a slightly larger, upturned nose, which added to her exotic looks.

"This?" Kat said. "Oh, it's a coke bullet! This is a magical little guy. You just prime it like this, hold it to your noise, and, poof! Perfect little bump. And it's so easy to do in public. You know, keep yourself with the perfect buzz all night long."

"That's so fucking cool," Emily said. Her translucent blue eyes were dancing now.

"Okay, I lied about one thing," Kat said. "They're not little bumps. We have kind of rigged it to be the same as a good-sized line. But, well, who doesn't want a good-sized line, right?"

Kat's words came quickly. Part of that was the cocaine already coursing through her system. But part of it was nerves. She didn't want this conflict. She was moderating the irritation she harbored over Emily's immaturity, which she saw as a temper tantrum, and nervousness about bringing the fight to her.

"I've never seen anything like this," Emily said.

"Go ahead," Kat said. "Try it. I've already primed it, so you just have to snort it."

Emily followed Kat's instructions, and a wide grin crossed her face as she felt the powder flying up her nose when she sniffed.

"Oh, wow!" Emily said. "That's incredible!"

"Here, do another," Kat said. "Just prime it."

She demonstrated how to turn the screw-like knob on the exterior, which turned over the small scoop-like mechanism inside that placed another bump into place. She handed it back to Emily, and another bump shot up her other nostril.

"Fucking genius," Emily said.

"It is," Kat said, smiling and nodding as she primed the bullet again. She quickly did two bumps for herself. "And it helps that it's such good quality. It's so soft and pure? You can really get by not even doing lines when you've got this little guy."

"This is the best coke I've ever had," Emily said. "I don't even know how much it costs by the gram."

Kat laughed and said, "Oh, sweetie, we aren't buying by the gram. More like the kilo."

Emily's jaw dropped.

"And we're not dealing, either," Kat added quickly.

"Well, shit, I'd do anything to keep getting shit this pure," Emily said.

"That's easy," Kat said, her voice suddenly taking on a more serious tone, although it was still friendly and warm. "Let's just be friends. Cool?"

"Yeah, I guess maybe I haven't been warm and fuzzy, have I?" Emily said.

"I get it, girl," Kat said. "You're under a lot of pressure. You feel like one fuck up will blow this opportunity. But, let me tell you, even if I don't know exactly what your position is like? It's going to be a lot easier if you try to enjoy it. And you are enjoying it. I guess what I mean is that you can't let petty shit undermine you."

"I know, I know," Emily said, a little defensive. "There is a lot of pressure."

Then Kat played her best card, the one she had sussed out because of her impeccable intuition.

"And it would also help if you told Jake how you feel about him," she said. "Don't just assume he sees it the same way you do. Boys are idiots. You have to spoon feed them."

Emily laughed.

"You think so?" Emily said. "I just sort of figured it was obvious."

"Sweetie, let me tell you something," she said. "Nothing is obvious for the man in your life. Tell him how you feel. If you get the communication between you two to that level? You'll realize it takes care of a lot -- maybe not all, but a lot -- of your problems."

"That actually makes a lot of sense," Emily said.

"Hey, and if it doesn't or it doesn't work out?" Kat said. "You can always come have a threesome with John and me, and we'll make you forget all about it."

She laughed vivaciously.

"Really?" Emily said.

"You're hot, Emily," Kat said. "You've got amazing stage presence. I would fuck the shit out of you."

And, with that, Kat walked away. She slipped into a nearby women's restroom, and Emily was left standing on her own. You could see from her body language, her shoulders drooped and her general height seeming diminished as a result, that she knew Kat was right.

But the thing was? Kat was right. And her tactful confrontation with Emily produced immediate results. And I'm not just talking about the fact that Emily had no problem giving me a blow job while Kat blew Jake right next to her that night. As the tour moved from Phoenix over to Dallas, Emily heeded Kat's advice. She opened up to Jake about her feelings, and, to the surprise of no one who had ever seen them together, they became an official item immediately after.

The significant result of that was that BowHaus showed incredible chemistry on stage. Their opening set, only forty-five minutes each night, gelled. They had always been good, but not they became a blistering feature to open the evening and stoke the crowd's excitement for the dual headliners.

The after-party in Phoenix had been pretty tame. Maybe it was the sunbelt crowd. Maybe it was because the stadium would be hosting the Super Bowl only three weeks later. Or maybe it was because the hotel the tour had taken over was so decentralized. They had stayed at the Four Seasons in Scottsdale, occupying all 210 rooms and suites. It was a massive expense, but Riley and Henry didn't care. They wanted the people traveling with them to be comfortable, and their morale was a constant imperative as the tour moved along.

The Four Seasons had been an amazing base camp. The basic rooms -- they labeled them "casitas" -- were large, nearly standalone accommodations. It was a peaceful, luxurious retreat from the adrenaline-fueled concerts, which made it the perfect way to unwind after the first two shows. But it made for a pretty tame after-party on the final night. Things were too spread out, and it was difficult to have a cohesive event. I didn't really care because our huge, 1,700-square-foot suite was plenty big enough to entertain our own shenanigans. Overall, however, it was a disjointed series of smaller parties.

That's why I was looking forward to Dallas. The tour took over eleven of the twenty-one floors of the Ritz Carlton, including the four penthouse suites -- one for Riley, one for Henry, one for the girls and me, and one open to all three of us to party. Moving down from the top floor, rooms were doled out in loose accordance to rank. The on-stage talent all got high-floor rooms, as did the four traveling members of Riley and Henry's management company and the security team.

The security guys, above all, were people you wanted to keep happy. It was hard to overstate their importance. I also made it a point to thank them with a wad of cash after every show. They were stern, unflappable, and serious. Mostly former military members, they looked at their jobs as a gift. They could have been in more dangerous situations, so they treated this gig as a cushy respite. And it was one they were extremely loyal to as a result. They were friendly and definitely appreciate any effort to get to know them and appreciate their efforts.

Four shows in Dallas flew by. The crowds were just as elated as in LA and Phoenix but even larger -- 120,000 people each night. Riley and Henry brimmed with confidence when the run came to an end. And, two weeks removed from the ultra-revelry of the Hollywood & Vine preview back home, they were ready to cut loose in a big way.

For their chosen fans, Riley upped her "pull" count to ten. Henry kept his count at six. Riley opted for an old-fashioned gangbang, which I still had a hard time wrapping my head around. She was the most famous popstar on the planet, and she relished being a group sex slut. I had never pegged her for that, and the fact that she was able to keep it out of the tabloids was probably the best evidence I ever saw to testify to her power, charm, and cult-like status. Henry, on the other hand, did something different. He took each of the six girls to his suite alone and gave them twenty minutes to do whatever they wanted with him. The funny thing to me was that Riley finished first. It didn't even take her two hours to get off the ten guys, clean up, and shuttle them off before joining the party.

Of course, Riley had help cleaning up. She and Rita had become fast friends, bonding, in part, over their shared desire to exert influence over people. It was a growing part of Rita, and she and Riley switched back and forth between teacher and student on the topic. At Riley's Dallas gangbang, Rita had acted as a kind of coordinator or traffic cop, making sure everything went smoothly. Her reward, which should have been no surprise, was joining Riley in bed after to feast on the outpouring of sperm that had filled her pussy.

A lot of exciting things happened in Dallas beyond that. As the third stop on the tour, there was still a lot of exploration and feeling out going on. But, looking back on it, there was one significant and memorable development that took place.

Stephanie had flown in with Rita for the last night. It was hard to describe whether what they had was a friendship or a relationship. There were elements of both. Either way, it had moved slowly. Stephanie was a tentative person, and I think she also felt a certain amount of embarrassment at how wild our introduction to her had been. But she wasn't going to let anything stand in the way of taking a private jet to Dallas to watch Riley and Henry with us backstage.

She had loved seeing all the famous faces that came and went and also enjoyed sneaking off to the restroom to take bumps with Rita. She was submissive to my wife, to the point where she looked to Rita for permission on even the smallest things when they were together. It came so naturally to her, it didn't even appear awkward or out of place. And I could see how powerful it made Rita feel. She enjoyed it. At the same time, Rita was the perfect person to give that power to. She wouldn't abuse it.

What that meant, however, was that Stephanie was lost while Rita assisted Riley after the show. Which is why Rita left Stephanie in my more-than-capable hands during the early stages of the party. Kat had veered off with Emily and Jake. Jess had become smitten with Dave, Riley's guitar player, and started the night with a private show in his suite. And Katie joined Kelly and Elizabeth, her fellow backup singers, with some of the band members for a post-concert toast and debrief until the groupies arrived.

Rita had also given me a very specific task during these couple hours. She wanted me to work on seducing Stephanie. We had become increasingly friendly, but, thus far, Stephanie's sexual focus had been solely on Rita. She wasn't exclusively into girls, Rita assured me. They had talked about it. Stephanie had a phobia about men. Her ex-husband had been an ass. Although they had been divorced for five years, she hadn't been with a single man since. At all. Not even a kiss of a blow job. She had built a shell around herself. But, as evidenced by her time with Rita, she was not a shrinking violet or averse to sexual activity. She loved to fuck. She relished when Rita fucked her with a strap on.

"She just hasn't found the right man," Rita told me. "I know for sure you are that man."

Naturally, I couldn't say no to my wife. Nor could I say no to my sexual desires. Knowing Stephanie had been celibate when it came to cock for that long only made me want her more. I had a suspicion that if we could unlock the floodgates of pent-up desire inside her, we might unleash a monster.

* * *

"It's kind of hard to believe it's real, right?" I said.

"I mean, I never would have thought Dallas could be pretty, but this is pretty awesome," Stephanie said.

She held a glass of Champagne in her left hand. Her Louboutin heels clacked on the marble floor as she strolled along the wall-length window in the living room of the suite. I stood at the bar to the far end of her as she walked toward me, pouring a glass for myself. There were four sofas creating a rectangular box of seating in the middle of the room, along with a large television opposite the bar cabinet.

"Yeah, this view is pretty good," I said, taking a few steps toward her.

Stephanie wore a short, black leather skirt and a one-sleeved, skin tight black top with her nude heels. Her signature hair was as thick and gorgeous as ever. She realized I was staring at her while I spoke and not looking out the window.

"Oh, John," she said, a blush creeping across her face. "You're so silly."

"Okay, I'll get serious then," I said, still walking toward her. I raised my glass. "A toast, to someone who is way nicer to look at than the Dallas skyline."

Stephanie rolled her eyes, but she clinked my glass with hers and smiled that high-wattage, toothy smile.

"But that's easy to say because Dallas sucks," I said. I shrugged my shoulders for effect and added, "What can I say? I'm originally from Houston."

That made Stephanie laugh. She drained that first glass of Champagne and twirled the empty stem. One thing I had learned about Stephanie was that she liked service. She wasn't going to refill her drink herself. I knew it, and I immediately turned around and retrieved the bottle to take care of it.

"Thank you," she said and held eye contact with me.

I went ahead and finished my glass and refilled it for convenience. We stood in front of the window, but we weren't looking outside anymore. Heat radiated from Stephanie's body, and I gently placed my right hand on the small of her back.

"You know, I could kind of stand to have," she said and raised a closed fist to her nose, like she was taking a bump. "If you have any."

"Oh, there might be some around," I said with a chuckle. "Do you want some?"

I wanted to hear her say it.

"That would be so awesome," she said.

Of course, I already had a vial in my pocket. I put it in my palm and took a step closer to Stephanie, invading the bubble of her personal space.

"Here you go," I said and dangled it in front of her.

Her gray eyes came to life and danced when she saw it.

"Magic powder," she said quietly, almost to herself. Her manner reminded me a bit of Crystal when I first met her.

I unscrewed the vial's lid and took a generous scoop on the spoon attached to it.

"Let me help you," I said.

Stephanie looked at me and smiled. She really did have a great, warm smile. I held the large bump up to her right nostril. She closed her left nostril with her finger and closed her eyes, then sniffed. My cock stirred as I watched the powder fly into her sinus cavity. She sniffed briefly twice, and I had a second bump waiting for her left nostril. We repeated the ritual, and Stephanie's eyes flickered open. I could see she was already more relaxed.

"Are you going to have some?" she asked.

"Yes," I said and helped myself.

As I did my bumps, I moved closer to her. My cock was outrageously hard, pressing against the leg of my jeans. I pressed it against the side of her thigh, making sure she could feel it. Her eyes got a little wide.

"Is that ... you?" she whispered.

I nodded.

"Has Rita told you that ..." her voice trailed off.

I nodded again.

"Can I be honest with you?" she asked seriously.

"Of course," I said and backed off a little bit. Her breath was sweet.

"I know Rita wants me to ... be with you," she said. "She really wants it. She wants us ... all to ... be together."

I put my hand on the small of her back again and noticed she seemed to relax at the touch.

"It's okay," I reassured her.

"It's been five years, which I guess you know," she said. "And, I just. I'm interested. I really am. You are a super sweet guy, John. And attractive. Like, super attractive. Sexy. God, I'm so embarrassing."

She let out a nervous laugh.

"You're doing great," I said, moving my hand back and forth on her tight shirt, even letting it drop down a bit onto the top curve of her leather-encased ass.

"Okay, I'm just going to say it," she said. "I'm comfortable having sex with you, but I really want Rita to be there when we do it. That's really important to me."

I smiled at her.

"Well, let me just say that I am incredibly flattered that you're interested," I said. "And I would never, ever want you to do something you aren't fully comfortable with or fully wanting to do."

This time, Stephanie took a step closer to me. She looked up at me, putting our lips within six inches of each other.

"I want it," she said. "And I didn't realize how badly I wanted it until just now. Because it just dawned on me that I've genuinely been waiting for the right man."

"And I'm the right man?" I asked.

Stephanie nodded, and I smiled. Then I felt her lips against mine, tentatively at first, then more eager. I let her lead. She flicked out her tongue, and we melted into a full-on kiss. I took it as a signal to escalate modestly, so I placed my hands on her ass and gave it a little squeeze. She had a great ass, meaty and very girl-next-door, which meshed with her whole vibe. I was dying to play with her tits, but I didn't want to push her too far too fast. I broke the kiss.

"Should we go see what's happening at the party?" I asked.

"Yeah," Stephanie said, her mood visibly brightening. "I'd like that."

* * *

At the Ritz that night, the nerve center of the celebration was on the penultimate floor, below the penthouses where Riley and Henry were staying. There were large corner suites at either end of the floor, which served as social hubs for the gathering. Most of the rooms in the middle of the floor either had their doors propped open or were accessible because the interior safety lock was folded over to keep them from locking. I put my arm around Stephanie's waist as we walked down the hall. Most of the rooms we passed had some sort of obviously sexual sounds emanating from them. Stephanie looked both curious and a little shy as we walked into this den of debauchery.