Traffic Girl Katie Ch 14

Author's Note: I've been having a blast writing this lately, and I also have been pushing to get more content out. I've got a very dedicated reader who isn't doing so well, and I want him to enjoy as much of this as possible until he can't. So, cheers to you, friend. Things are ramping up here as we get toward the end of Europe. There are some rapids ahead, and I think it'll be fun to see how the group navigates them. Enjoy.

* * *

Two days after the Madrid debauchery, I was sitting at the castle in London with Henry. We were sipping pint cans of Boddington's and smoking a joint as we strolled around the garden on another beautiful summer day.

"I've really been lazy about this, man," Henry said. "But, I have to tell you, and please don't mention this to Riley, but touring kicks my ass. I'm feeling so exhausted, and we've got three weeks to go still."

"I've got to tell you," I said, "and I don't mean this to come off as disrespectful, but I'm fucking exhausted and I don't even have to perform. I don't know how you do it. It's fucking amazing, frankly."

"No disrespect, brother," Henry said, hitting the joint hard. "It is tough. Thank god for cocaine, right?"

I laughed and said, "I'd be saying that anyway."

Henry laughed with me and passed me the spliff. I took a drag and let him talk.

"Anyway," Henry continued, "all this has really just reminded me what a grind the music shit is. Don't get me wrong -- I mean, we're having fun, aren't we?"

He shot me that boyish grin he was so famous for.

"It has been fucking fun," I said and passed the joint back as I exhaled.

"Anja seems like fucking fun," Henry noted. "Literally."

I whistled briefly.

"Fuck, man," I said. "We can talk about that in a minute. What a cluster."

"Okay, okay," he said. "I didn't mean to hit a sore spot."

"Nah, you're good, man," I said.

Henry held a hit from the joint, and I took a long swig from my can of beer.

"But back to business," he said. "I've pushed off this movie idea. But I'm ready to get back to it. I want to hit the ground running when this Stages stuff wraps up."

"I've been brainstorming some ideas," I said. "And I've talked to Petey about it. He'll be out here for Vienna, and I can set something up with him, if you want. I know he's keeping his ear to the ground for something that would be a good first vehicle for you."

"Shit, man, really?" Henry said. "You've been looking out for me."

He grinned again. I realized how much weight he had been carrying over the last several weeks. This news seemed to lighten his spirits immediately.

"It's what I'm here for, man," I said. "Gives me something to do besides pissing off my wives."

I laughed uneasily. Anja Rajinski, the supermodel, had flown back with us from Madrid to London. She was staying with us in the castle. Rita hadn't objected, but Kat, Jess, and Katie all felt like I was thinking with my little head. It also seemed to disproportionately piss off Nicole, and I didn't necessarily react the best to her objections. I took the attitude that she didn't have a right to be so upset since she wasn't my wife. She was spiteful, accusing me of abandoning long-term relationships for a fleeting taste of super famous pussy.

"Shit, man," Henry said. "That will pass. Probably really quickly. Let me know if I can do anything to help. I could call up some of my famous buds. Let them have an equal taste."

We laughed.

"But what are you supposed to do?" Henry said. "I'm with the most famous chick on the planet, and I would say yes to Anja in a heartbeat. You're a red-blooded male. I don't think your response has been out of line."

It might not have been out of line, but a nagging part of my brain told me I was being selfish. And my body, well, it was telling my brain to fuck off. Anja might have been the most physically addictive thing I'd ever encountered. And, I told myself, Rita seemed to be enjoying it a lot, too, so there wouldn't be a real problem. It was an infatuation that would run its course quickly on tour.

Henry and I finished our beers, snuffed out the joint, and went back into the castle. My wives were out for another day of sightseeing, which Rita had proposed, but the truth was I think she wanted to try to smooth over the annoyances the others felt about Anja. Rita was a diplomat but also carried a gravitas in the group. I trusted her. This was a blip in the road. I hadn't gotten pissed about Kat's infatuation with Ryan. I moved past Jess and Johnny. I never balked at Katie and Henry.

One challenge -- though I didn't see it that way at the time -- is that I didn't really have any time to reflect on the situation. That was something we were all responsible for. We weren't stopping for a moment, even during the down days. We filled every minute with something. Of course, the frenetic pace of the concerts and travel back and forth to London, coupled with the constant accompanying parties, wasn't conducive to sober reflection. Or anything related to sobriety.

This also created a blind spot for me. Or maybe it was an excuse. That I didn't have to or want to look past the surface level of the hedonistic indulgence we engaged in. Every time I turned around, it seemed like there was another opportunity to feed my primal desires. Most of the time in the past few days, when I turned around, Anja was right there. I didn't question it. I just embraced it as a budding addiction.

Henry and I strolled back toward the castle. A bunch of the tour folks were outside smoking marijuana, as well. This had become the routine for off days. The musicians would jam and smoke and drink and bond. It was, for them, the indispensable professional part of the tour. And it was fun to watch, as an outsider. So when we walked up to the back terrace and greeted the group, it didn't surprise me to see Anja there, smoking a cigarette in between taking puffs on joints as they got passed around. The tour had come to favor comically large, Bob Marley-style joints.

I said a cursory hello to the smoking gaggle and headed inside. The weed and beer had given me the munchies, and I was ready to snack on something. Henry lingered, while I went to the kitchen. I settled on a bag of chips that sat in a basket on one of the counters, offering the stoned among us an easy and quick route to satisfaction. Then I rooted around in the fridge and cracked another Boddington's. The castle was utterly silent. My head started to clear a little bit. Until I heard footsteps clacking on the stone floor behind me.

"You didn't even stop to say hi," Anja said before I could turn around.

"Hey," I said and smiled at her. "I didn't want to interrupt you with the group. And I'm fucking starving."

She walked toward me. She always strutted like she was on a runway. The natural peacock in her knew no off-switch. Even when she was only dressed in a bright red sports bra and matching, two-sizes-too-small matching bike shorts. Her nipples and cameltoe might as well have been under a spotlight, and her hip bones stood out prominently.

"Funny, I'm famished, too," she said, pushing her skimpily clad body against me. "For more of that dick."

Instinct took over as I felt Anja's warmth against me. I moved my hands down her waist, over her hips, and cupped her ass. We both went in for a kiss at the same time, and I immediately lost myself in the soft, sweet feeling of her lips. She tasted like weed, and I felt the primal animal rise in me that so frequently took hold when I was stoned.

"You haven't seen the secret passage yet," I said.

"Show me," she said, her nostrils flaring with desire.

I put my hand on the small of her back and led her to the false panel at the rear of the kitchen. I pressed it, and she gasped when it opened.

"This is so cool," she said.

When the door softly closed behind us, our lips locked again. Anja put her hand on the back of my neck and pulled me to her. I pushed her against the back wall, and she lifted up a leg as her free hand clumsily but frantically pushed into the front of my shorts and found my cock. It was hard, so she pulled it out and pressed it firmly against the crotch of her tight shorts. I rubbed back and forth and almost immediately I felt the pleasure build in me. I pushed the shorts down her hips, my face ending up close to her vagina as I shoved them down to the floor. I could smell her sweet nectar flowing. And all I could think about was being inside those velvety walls again. Fucking Anja was habit-forming. It was addictive, in part because she was so into it.

Her height made it easy to fuck her against the wall. She kept one leg up, wrapping it around me, and my cock slipped into her vagina like a magnet attracted to its mate.

"Fuck yeah," she said. "That hits my clit so nice."

I smothered her mouth with a kiss, and we humped like horny high school kids for a few minutes. Anja quickly had one of her mini-orgasms. I had learned off the bat that she had a hard time cumming fully and hard, like my wives did, but she was prone to little waves of pleasure that would seize her for just a breath or two, then pass. My hands dug into her ass, a finger probing between the cheeks for her outrageously pretty butthole. We kissed before I buried my head in her cleavage. But then Anja pushed back. She reached her hands above her head, then brought them down to her sports bra. I thought she was going to take it off. Instead, she reached inside and pulled out a baggie of cocaine.

"I love the rush of a toot while I'm getting plowed," she said.

She popped open the baggie and scooped out two quick bumps, snorting them up each nostril. Then she repeated the action a second time. My cock swelled inside her even more.

"You really do get off on seeing girls do blow, huh?" she said.

"You need to ask?" I teased.

"Want a bump?" she asked.

"Yeah," I grunted, not wanting to slow down my plowing of her cunt.

The only thing I could compare being inside her to was fucking Nicole. That had a similar effect on me. But Anja? Was even more compelling. It wasn't because she was hotter. It wasn't because of her tits. It was her pussy itself. She wasn't bony or too small. She was petite, like Katie, but had all the velvety, greedy charm of Nicole. Every addictive facet of the pussy I had loved most? Was embodied by Anja's love canal.

"Here, babe," she said, holding up a generous pile on a perfectly manicured fingernail.

I snorted once. Then she gave me another. I started to fuck her harder almost immediately.

"There you are, superman," she said. "Fuck me. Fucking blow that load in me. I'll save it all day for Rita to taste when she gets home."

"Fuck," I groaned and redoubled my efforts.

It wasn't even five minutes later that Anja was pulling her bike shorts back up and tucking my cock back into my shorts.

"I'm going to have a smoke," she said. "God, I can't believe how you make me need one every single time. I love how you work your magic wand."

She laughed, and we pushed through the secret passage back into the kitchen. A few of the tour group were there, indulging the munchies that inevitably followed the marijuana consumption. I was holding Anja's hand when I noticed that Katie was also in the kitchen. Staring daggers at me.

"Um, hey, I gotta go real quick," I said.

Anja made a show of kissing me, then pausing to whisper in my ear.

"If Rita eats me out later, I'll let you put it in my ass," she said.

I stopped at the fridge, trying to figure out what to say to Katie. She had her arms crossed, which only pushed up her tits higher in her thin tank top. She was braless, and her nipples were hard. I grabbed a bottle of Champagne and pulled two glasses that were on the counter. Then I walked over to her.

"I don't want a drink," she said. "We need to talk, daddy."

"You can't say no to Champagne," I said. "It's a family rule."

She didn't laugh but agreed.

"So, back early from the sightseeing?" I then ventured.

"I wanted to work on a couple songs," she said. "I'm meeting Henry and Riley in the studio soon."

"Want me to join you?" I asked.

"If you talk with me first," she said.

"Of course, baby," I said.

Anja had rejoined the others outside and already lit up a cigarette. The daytime party and jam session remained outside for now, which made sense given how generous the weather was. Katie led me, walking with purpose, to one of the drawing rooms. We arrived at a plush couch that sat in front of a long bookshelf-lined wall.

"Sit," she said.

I complied, set down the glasses, and poured the Champagne into one of them at a time.

"What's up, darling?" I said, moving close to Katie.

She returned the favor, pressing her body against mine, but maintaining enough distance that she could look me in the eyes.

"Daddy, you know," she said. "You have to dial it back."

I took a long drink of Champagne and sighed. It came out wrong. It sounded exasperated.

"Please don't get defensive," Katie said, putting her hand on my leg. She was being patient and loving. She was being Katie. "We have got to talk about this. We have to deal with it."

"Sorry," I said sincerely. "I didn't mean that to come off as shitty."

"I can smell her on you, you know," she said.

"Yeah, we just kind of," I said before she cut me off.

"I know, daddy," she said. "I know."

Her eyes bored into mine.

"I didn't want to sightsee today," she continued. "I couldn't focus on it. I wanted to get back to making music. I really want to cut at least one of these songs today. But I can't stop thinking about you. And everyone thought it was a good idea if I approached you. There is a lot of emotion going on, daddy. A lot."

"I understand," I said.

"Let me just start by saying, obviously we all fuck other people," Katie said like it was no big deal. "None of us are going to stop that. None of us want to stop that. But we have some worries. This Anja thing, daddy ..." her voice trailed off, and she took a drink before continuing. "I know it's only been a few days, but none of us can remember when you've just sort of ... left us out to dry like this."

"I've had a bit of tunnel vision, haven't I?" I said, knowing I had to take my lumps.

"In your defense, you and Rita both," she said.

"Yeah," I admitted.

"Just don't leave us out," she said. "I mean, that night in Madrid? I didn't even see you until we were getting on the plane to come back here. Do you realize how scary that is for me?"

"I'm sorry, Katie," I said.

"Don't be sorry, daddy," she said. "Don't do it. Don't scare me like that. It took me back to a place mentally I haven't been in so long."

"It's not like me," I said.

"It's not like you," she agreed. "And it's not who you are."

"I really don't know how to describe what's happened the last couple days," I said.

"I do," Katie said. "Something's up. Something is weird about Anja. I mean, look, she is super nice. She's been nothing but kind in my interactions with her. But she hasn't been kind in how she's approached you or Rita. Or the way she's monopolized you."

"If you want one of us, you have to respect all of us," I said, nodding my head.

"Exactly!" Katie said. "I know you can do that, can't you?"

"I love you, Katie," I said and put my arm around her.

"Good," she said. "It's a simple rule, you know."

I kissed her and apologized again.

"Let's just move on, okay?" she said. "I really want you with me in the studio. I want you to hear these songs. I think they're ready for you."

"I'd love that," I said.

"Well, let's do it then," she said and kissed me again.

As we stood up, I grabbed the Champagne. Katie looked at me with a crooked smile.

"You know, the rest of us might like a crack at Anja, too, you know," she said.

It was her way of telling me everything was okay. But it was the first warning sign that I had really gone off the rails with the supermodel. They were right. It wasn't like me. I was sincere in my apology, yet something lingered in the back of my head. It was a little voice telling me it would be harder to break my newfound Anja addiction than I realized.

* * *

Riley and Henry were hard at work in the recording studio. That meant it was littered with pieces of paper, their open notebooks, a pile of cocaine at the ready, and plenty of drinks. I noticed Henry was only half-heartedly jotting down some notes. Riley, on the other hand, didn't even notice when Katie and I entered. She had her nose buried in a notebook, furiously scribbling lyrics. She had a pen in one hand and another securing her hair in a messy bun above her head. She didn't look up even after we greeted Henry. Only when she had reached the bottom of the page did she let out a long exhale and stand up, hugging us hello.

"You ready to lay down hit number two?" Riley asked.

"Oh, god," Katie said, "I'd take one hit in my life!"

"I worked on some instrumentals for you," Henry said. "I think you'll like it. It'll be really dance-driven and uptempo."

"You two are way too sweet to me," Katie said, genuinely embarrassed.

But she also didn't hesitate getting to work. Henry went to the sound board, while Katie put on a headset and went into the studio, setting up at the microphone with her lyrics notebook and ready to sing the second song she had completed. They'd been working on it here and there, along with a few other tracks. This one they deemed ready to go. I hadn't heard it. I hadn't been privy to any of the words even, so butterflies danced in my stomach while they got ready to go.

"She's a natural," Riley told me as I sat down across from her.

She had put her notebook down and picked up a glass straw to hit a line of coke that was already formed on the table. The notebook was a girlish, pink, flower-covered journal. It was quite the innocent contrast to the fluffy powder flying up her nose. She didn't even come up after the first, instead immediately inhaling a second.

"God, this shit is so good," she said, running her finger across the powdering residue. She licked it clean and gave a satisfied sniff. "I couldn't make it through this without it. Tour is a grind. I love it. But it gets challenging."

"You make it look effortless," I said.

"Thanks," Riley said and smiled. Even in the studio she had her trademark red lipstick on. "Being able to increase the amount of rest I get is huge. Most artists can't afford to do that. It's also key to be able to blow off steam. You all really help me with that. So does this."

She looked lustfully at the coke, and I could tell she was considering another line. Instead, she offered me the straw, and I accepted. Katie and Henry were having a preliminary conversation about the song and how they would go about the first take.

"I do have to tell you one thing," Riley said as I took a quick line. "Madrid was a lot less fun without you there."

"I was there," I said and winked at her.

"You know what I mean," she said and rolled her eyes. "I'm just going to say it. Anja is nice, but I'll give it to you straight. I don't trust fashion people, especially not the models."

"She's harmless," I said, then took a second, larger line.

"She's been nice," she said. "And maybe it's just a vibe. But I'd be careful."

"Are you saying I should pull out?" I joked.

"That's not something to joke about," she said with a laugh.

"I heard you got like eight creampies that night," I said, leaning in and lowering my voice.

"Eleven," she said with a wink. "And Rita was nowhere to help me clean it up."

"How was Kat as a substitute?" I asked.

"Wonderful," Riley said. "I love your wives."

Katie and Henry were about to roll the tape. Riley paused and looked at me seriously.

"You better not fuck it up, okay, John?" she said.

I felt a pang of jealousy that I had missed Kat hook up with Riley. It wasn't like me to be on the outside of any of our debauched shenanigans. And it was also a bit of a wakeup call to realize just how quickly I had become detached.