Traffic Girl: Stephanie
Copyright© 2025 by LiveLocalLateBreaking
Chapter 6
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 6 - John and his girls are back again. After a focus on new business endeavors, they are plunged back into the world of raucous partying and sexual experimentation. See which temptations they succumb to this time. This is a long, interconnected story that is full of sex, heavy partying, polyamory, and the occasional wife stealing.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Sharing Wife Watching Incest Light Bond Rough Gang Bang Group Sex Harem Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Facial Oral Sex Squirting Tit-Fucking Voyeurism Public Sex Smoking Slow
Author’s Note: I’m embarrassed how long this chapter has taken. But it’s here. Some history in the making, and now we’re really going to get into the heart of this book. Thanks for your patience. Please enjoy, and don’t be shy with your feedback.
We had three days before the Oscars. If you haven’t ever been in LA during the week leading up to them, it’s unlike anything else. You know the frenetic importance that seems to permeate New York City all day, every day? LA was like that in the lead-up to Oscars’ night, only fueled by more cocaine and speed and whatever else you could stuff in your nose or veins or smoke, giving it a kind of messy, unbridled quality that no one in New York would ever let you see – no matter what a fuck-up they were. LA in general was a crazy, unkempt place. Oscars’ week was the time that Hollywood went totally haywire with even more anxiety than usual. Until those handful of hours of the red carpet and ceremony, then the perfectly manicured hair-letting-down of the after-parties. And then a hangover and comedown worthy of Las Vegas on steroids.
Juliet had spent a third of her life amid this din. She had been nominated for an Academy Award four times now. She had won last year. This year? Everyone talked about it being a slam dunk. But she knew – and now we knew, too – that nothing in La-La Land was a slam dunk. Except one thing.
Hedonism.
I did my best to live in that spirit, and it was easy because in our circle? This was Juliet’s week. She was swamped with press appearances. There was a sense her moment was hitting an early crescendo, and she was determined it would only be a false summit.
The girls were out for final fittings of their dresses. We weren’t attending the ceremony this time, but everyone in LA wanted a dress for the Oscars, even if you were only going to party at a sex club like Hollywood & Vine. I rolled in from my weekly lunch with Jason. It masqueraded as me checking on the business, but for the better part of a year now Jason had demonstrated that he was more than capable. So instead of actually talking shop, we used it as a regular chance to catch up, have some drinks, and smoke a cigar. When I got home, the two slugs of Macallan 18 had me feeling tipsy and something just short of invincible. That, as it turned out, was just what I needed.
Initially, I planned to keep the day-drinking going with a bottle of quality red wine to match the lingering cigar smokiness on my tongue. And then I started when I got into the kitchen.
“Kat!” I exclaimed, seeing my wife unexpectedly walking away through the wide-open French doors that led to our pool.
“Daddy!” she exclaimed, reversing course and spinning around. She nearly sprinted toward me and nearly tackled me as she wrapped her arms and legs around me.
My hands found her ass immediately. She was naked. The house was empty.
“What are you doing here, Kitty Kat?” I asked. “I thought you had your final dress fitting?”
“It was perfect last time,” she said. “I’m working on my tan. I want it to be as natural as possible.”
“And without tanlines as usual,” I noted.
I put her down, and my eyes settled on her hands. She was holding a pack of Gauloises and a lighter.
“I might have been grabbing a smoke,” she said.
The girls had been actively trying to cut down after all the indulgence we had fallen into on tour.
“I’m not one to judge,” I said and put her down. “I had a cigar with Jason.”
“Do you want to come outside with me, daddy?” Kat asked. She had slipped a cigarette between the index and middle fingers of her left hand, and her eyes looked like they wanted to devour me.
“Definitely,” I said. “Do you want something to drink?”
“I’d love something,” she said, pressing her tongue behind the back of her top teeth. “Your pick. Do you want to get naked with me?”
“Aren’t you a bundle of energy,” I said, letting my eyes slowly travel over her body. Her pierced nipples begged to be sucked.
“I might have had a couple bumps,” she said and rolled her eyes.
“Don’t apologize,” I said. “It’s Oscars’ week. We’ve got to be in game shape.”
“I didn’t apologize, daddy,” she said.
I laughed and went to the bar, pulling a bottle of Bordeaux out of the wine fridge. I pulled the cork, grabbed two glasses, and followed Kat outside. It was a gorgeous day, like LA was smiling on the occasion.
Kat sat down on a pool lounger and perched the cigarette between her lips. She cupped one hand over it and flicked the lighter to life with the other. She took a long, satisfied drag, then shook her hair and exhaled high into the air. My buzzed brain found it irresistible. I wanted her. And an alcohol-infused idea popped to mind.
I set the bottle of wine and glasses down on the side table. As Kat took a second drag off her smoke, I pushed her knees apart and turned her body lengthwise on the chair. She instinctively let her head rest against the incline. She seemed to interpret what I wanted, scooching her butt higher up the lounger, giving me enough space to kneel on the end of it.
“Daddy,” she said, exhaling the smoke toward me.
“I want you, Kitty Kat,” I said.
She looked at me and took a drag. She didn’t nod. She just parted her thighs slightly. I dove between them. Before my tongue touched her delicious nether lips, I said, “See how many cigarettes you can smoke before you beg me to stop.”
She laughed, but it was cut short by a gasp when my tongue traveled from the bottom of her slit to the hard nub of her clit.
“Oh, daddy,” Kat groaned.
I took my time and savored Kat’s pussy. It was a thing of beauty and deserved to be worshiped. She tasted sweet and was already wet when my tongue first made contact. She always was. Kat, perhaps more than anyone I had ever met, remained in a constant state of sexual arousal.
“You taste so fucking good,” I said, taking my mouth off her pussy only long enough to say it.
Kat only responded by pressing her hand against the back of my head. I heard her take an audible puff off the cigarette. She let out a moan when she exhaled, the smoke enveloping us. She repeated that action as I savored eating her out: audible puff, moan, exhale. As her breathing took on a familiar urgency, I sensed movement. She reached for the pack of Gauloises and used the butt of her first smoke to light a second. Then the pattern returned. Puff, moan, exhale. It was only interrupted when Kat finally succumbed to temptation and let herself roar in orgasm. I was grateful we lacked nosy neighbors anywhere in the vicinity because she screamed at the top of her lungs. Once she settled down, it was back into that rhythm: puff, moan, exhale. She came again. Then she lit a third cigarette. Puff, moan, exhale now more rapidly became puff, moan, exhale, orgasm. By the time she had polished off a fourth smoke, she was finally done.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” Kat said, her body quaking. “I’m done. I’m done. I’m begging. Please, daddy. I can’t take anymore!”
“Huh,” I said, glancing up at her, my face a mess of her juices. “I didn’t think you could ever reach the point of not taking more.”
“God, daddy, please,” she said, her body controlled by aftershocks. “That was incredible.”
I grinned up at her as she stubbed out the fourth cigarette.
“Four,” I noted. “I’m going to pat myself on the back.”
“You should,” she said, as I positioned myself higher up the chair so I could kiss her.
“You taste like an ashtray,” I joked before my tongue darted into her mouth.
“I couldn’t be more relaxed if I had taken a handful of valium,” Kat joked back between kisses. “You can fuck me, but I’m just going to lie here.”
“That’s no fun,” I said, kissing her again. “Fucking is an interactive sport.”
“You don’t find me lying here like a doll appealing?” she said with a smile.
“I’m not a frat boy trying to take advantage of a passed out sorority girl,” I said. “I like a slut who’s into it.”
“Well, I am a slut,” Kat said, reaching her hand down and finding my hard cock.
“But are you into it?” I said as I pushed inside Kat, her hand guiding me.
“Fuck yes, daddy,” she said, pushing her lips to mine. “With you, I’m always into it. I love that hard dick in me.”
“I love when you’re this soaked,” I said, maneuvering myself into position to fuck her with deep strokes.
“You are going to push right into my cervix,” she said, biting her lower lip.
“Is that your way of saying my cock is big enough for you?” I asked, fishing for a compliment.
“Yours is the only one that truly satisfies me,” Kat said as she pulled me into her. “There you are, daddy.”
I bottomed out inside her and kissed her as I fell immediately into a deliberate, savoring rhythm. Kat moved her hands to the back of my neck. My cock throbbed as her smokey mouth reminded me of the image of her puffing away while I ate her out. I knew I had scored points with that one. She had been so incredibly turned on by it. And she raised her hips to meet my cock with enthusiasm now.
“I love when you just want to fuck,” I growled at her.
“I’m such a slut, daddy,” Kat gasped. “Your slut. And I’m going to, oh god, I’m going to cum again! Daddy!”
My cock pistoned into her with fury now that I knew she was close again. Once she hit that point, she preferred a ramp-up in intensity. I gave it to her. That ramp-up was just what I needed, too, and just as she unleashed a scream of ecstasy into the Hollywood Hills surrounding us, I unleashed an equally ecstatic volley of sperm into her already soaking vagina.
“Fuck, Kitty Kat,” I grunted as my cock twitched repeatedly.
She smiled up at me and said, “I agree, daddy. Fuck is what we’re good at.”
We laughed, and I kissed her. Her mouth was warm and smokey. I felt her pierced nipples push against my chest. I looked at her with adoration. My Kitty Kat. My well-fucked Kitty Kat.
“I really needed that,” I said.
“Me, too,” she agreed. “Especially with how crazy this week is going to be. I like to feel close to you before a party like ... what’s coming up.”
We both knew it would be a frenetic lead-up to the Oscars after-party we were hosting at Hollywood & Vine. It promised to be a night so memorable, no matter how fucked up we got, we’d never forget it.
“Are you supposed to be partying on the job?” I asked, insincerely.
“Partying is the job, Mr. Cameron,” Lizzy said, her tone almost bored as she checked the area below her nostrils for any remnants of the cocaine she had just sniffed.
“And so is being naked, I presume?” I said, moving forward and putting my hands on her bare ass.
“Whatever the clients want,” Lizzy said, flicking her brilliant red hair to one side and cocking her head. Her piercing green eyes bored into mine.
“Is that all I am?” I said. “A client?”
“The boss’s husband,” she said and rolled her eyes.
“And you’re okay with this?” I said, pushing her hand down to touch my hardening cock.
“More than okay with it,” Lizzy said. “And so is Jess.”
“Oh, I know Jess is okay with it,” I said and pushed the redhead back against the table where moments before she had been bent over snorting two lines.
“It’s a nice fringe benefit to have a boss who’s in an open relationship with someone who has such a nice dick,” Lizzy said.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” I said.
Lizzy raised one of her legs nearly onto the table, opening up her thighs for access to the pastel-pink pussy that stood out like a bullseye between her cream-colored thighs. She kept a landing strip, cut very short, as proof of her authentic hair color.
“Shut up and shove it in,” Lizzy said to quiet me. “I’m soaking.”
She wasn’t joking. Her pussy needed no coaxing to accept the full length of my cock. When I bottomed out inside her, she wrapped one leg around me and leaned back against her hands, which were now flat against the table. Her porcelain-skinned, natural breasts, tipped by the most perfectly puffy, pink nipples, pointed upward. Simply put, Lizzy was a piece of ass. She loved to fuck and loved to fuck different guys and girls. She was the perfect hostess for Hollywood & Vine. It took a great deal of pressure off Jess, allowing my wife to enjoy herself more and start to relinquish some control. Jess wouldn’t always stop obsessing over the details of the parties, but she didn’t need to let the planning consume her.
“You are such a hot little slut,” I said, my cock thrusting up to pound Lizzy’s cunt.
“If those are the compliments I’m getting,” she said with a casual laugh despite me fucking her hard, “then I’m doing my job.”
“That’s all this is to you, huh?” I said, my breath slightly ragged. “A job?”
“Getting paid to get high and getting fucked?” Lizzy said. “Do what you love, and they say you’ll never work a day in your life.”
She smiled, and we both concentrated on the pleasure at hand. I grabbed Lizzy’s tits and squeezed them. She had a soft, supple body, one that invited touch. And Lizzy made clear touching her was an open invitation. She was insatiable, and she didn’t discriminate. While her official title might have been hostess, it was quickly becoming apparent that she was the Hollywood & Vine free-use slut. And she was also becoming a central reason why the club was burgeoning in popularity.
“You fit right in,” I said, feeling the orgasm bubbling up in me quickly. I knew we didn’t have much time before Juliet’s category came up at the Oscars ceremony. “And I’m going to cum for you.”
“In my mouth,” Lizzy said. “I don’t want to be a mess before the clients get here.”
With a smooth movement, the redhead slid off the table and onto her knees. She sucked my cock into her mouth, first cleaning it with pure enjoyment, and then finishing me with a combination of sucking and stroking. She didn’t pull off. She didn’t show me the load. She just took it, swallowed, and popped up on her feet.
“Nice way to start the party,” Lizzy said.
“Don’t wear yourself out too soon,” I said. “You’ve never done one of these before. It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before.”
“Please,” Lizzy said. “I’ve seen a lot already.”
“Trust me,” I said knowingly. “Nothing like this.”
Both Hollywood & Vine houses played nothing but the Academy Awards on their televisions and through their speakers, even though it was just my wives and me, Jason and Crystal and Bianka. We had decided to skip the official after-parties and run headlong into hedonism.
Lizzy and a few of the other Hollywood & Vine staff took care of us in the early part of the night. That staff included Anja, the model, who was still paying off her debt to us for the tour shenanigans she pulled in Europe on behalf of Old Katie. She smoked a cigarette and chatted with a couple of the other girls who would serve as bartenders and general-use play things for the evening. She made apologetic eye contact with me, her most sincere form of contrition, but didn’t approach me.
Drinks flowed, and a cloud of marijuana smoke started to permeate the rooms. My wives gathered in the front room of the Hollywood & Vine house, casually taking a bump or small line as the Oscars ceremony wound its way through the boring middle awards. The tension built, as did our desire, while the co-hosts made their way through a series of barely passable jokes that were greeted by overzealous guffaws and polite applause.
And then the moment came. Best Actress. Finally. I sat on a couch, with Kat on my lap. Stephanie had Rita on her lap next to us, and the three girls passed around a cigarette. I sipped on a glass of Champagne. Jess and Katie sat on the floor. With them were the guitar player and drummer from Katie’s most recent studio sessions. They were young hotshots, who probably would end up in Katie’s new touring band. The four of them, until a moment ago, had been attacking the ludicrous pile of cocaine on the glass coffee table with gusto.
Carly came out on stage. Traditionally, the prior year’s winner presented the award, but since Juliet was the reigning winner and was nominated again this year, they went with a past winner. We looked around at each other, wondering if Carly, the director of the movie Juliet was up for, being chosen as presenter was a sign. Maybe. But it didn’t matter.
“And the winner is,” Carly said and took a deep breath as she opened the golden envelope. Her behavior made me think she had no clue what the card inside read. After she fumbled with it, and the smile broke instantly on her face, I knew before she said it.
“Juliet Lawson!”
The Dolby Theater erupted, and Juliet made the short walk to the stage to give her acceptance speech, her face a mixture of beaming pride and shock. She was in heady company now, only the third actress to win the Best Actress Oscar two years in a row. The last was Katharine Hepburn. As she stood on stage, drinking in the applause, I could almost see her realization of just how huge an accomplishment it was.
The living room at Hollywood & Vine roared to life with cheers when Juliet collected the statuette. My wives and I looked at each other and smiled. Juliet had been the odds-on favorite. Nothing seemed to be able to stop her momentum this awards season, but to see it come to fruition was beautiful. And now we knew that this night was going to be one for the record books. I looked at my watch. The show had gone at a quick pace this year, and I was surprised when I glanced at my watch. It was only 8 p.m. LA time. The big, official after-parties would be teeming until at least midnight. Juliet probably wouldn’t be able to reasonably sneak away until 1 a.m. or later. But odds were that we would see some of the first revelers within an hour or two. It might sound hard to believe, but there were people who had been to the Oscars enough that it came to bore them. They wanted to escape the harsh spotlight more quickly and indulge their true interests.
“We need to have a toast to Juliet!” Kat said, pushing herself up off my lap.
“I’m on it,” I said, standing up.
The room took on a new energy. This was heady stuff. Not just someone we knew, but a friend, had just made Oscars history. Think about how fucking ridiculous that was to think or say or simply realize. The award reverberated through Hollywood & Vine. We weren’t truly involved. This was tangential to us, even if we really cared deeply about it, but it was a beautiful excuse to supercharge the night. We would use it as an excuse to celebrate and propel ourselves into those high levels of debauchery we loved so much.
Before I could make it to the bar, Lizzy and Anja appeared, each holding a magnum of Cristal rose. Lizzy had on a snug cocktail dress, which tugged around her lush hips and barely held her cleavage in check. Anja? Nude. Just like the rest of the servers. As she poured from the big bottle into the glasses that sat on the coffee table, her absurdly gorgeous tits succumbing to the forces of gravity. The guitar player and drummer sitting with Katie and Jess finally had their attention ripped away from my wives. These guys couldn’t believe their good fortune as they thanked Anja for the wine, and they had no idea what lay in store for them.
Anja made demure eye contact with Kat and Rita when she reached us, and her body language turned decisively submissive. She refilled the glasses in front of us, although Rita made a point of holding hers – and holding eye contact with the model. Then she moved on and returned to the bar. Nothing would put a damper on this evening, even old rivalries. Anja had been an asset at Hollywood & Vine as she paid her penance. She also seemed to have taken to Lizzy, who ran the sex club’s daily operations with a diplomatic form of power that didn’t allow most people to realize they were being handled.
My eyes caught Katie across from me, she had turned around and tucked her feet under her butt. She bounced forward and picked up a glass straw before calming her movements and splitting one of the large lines on the coffee table in two, one quick snort up each nostril. She looked at me, and we made knowing eye contact. I gave her a half-nod of approval, and she whispered something to Jess before the two of them got up and led off the musicians they had been entertaining, presumably to move to a more intimate setting.
It put the wheels in motion for the evening. Rita stood up and offered her hand to Stephanie, who got to her feet next to her.
“Katie and Jess seem to have the right idea,” Rita said, smoothing down the clingy purple silk of her dress.
“I agree, goddess,” Stephanie said, also smoothing her skin-tight red cocktail dress.
They slipped away toward the stairs, and Kat pushed herself off my lap and onto the floor. It was her turn to raid the cocaine pile, while Bianka took the opportunity to slide over to my side of the table and sit next to me on the couch. She threw her leg over mine and whispered in my ear.
“I’m going to leave a wet spot on this couch if you don’t let me sit on your lap,” she said.
Bianka wore the dictionary definition of the little black dress. It was pasted to her like wallpaper. I put my hand on her soft, smooth thigh.
“What’s got you in such a state?” I asked.
“Crystal and I are taking turns torturing each other,” Bianka said, running her tongue along her bottom lip after she spoke. “She tied me to a chair while Jason fucked her before we came over here.”
“Shouldn’t you let him have first dibs on you?” I asked, turning to her and letting my eyes bore into hers.
“He loves when you fuck me, you know that,” she said, rolling her eyes. Her lips were beautifully shiny.
“You are a really fun fuck,” I said, letting my hand ride higher up her thighs. The skin got warmer and warmer.
“You’re almost there,” Bianka said.
She was tempting. So very tempting.
“Have you seen the caviar setup Jess put together?” I asked her.
“No,” Bianka said and grinned at me.
I pushed her leg off me, stood up, and held out my hand. She took it, standing up quickly but giving me a view between her legs just long enough to confirm she wasn’t wearing panties. We walked over to the kitchen, where there was an impressive, four-foot tall ice sculpture carved like an Oscar statuette. In the base, by Oscar’s feet, there were carve-outs for bottles of vodka. At the base of it, there were two one-kilogram containers of Petrossian caviar.
“Tonight’s masterpiece,” I said.
“Oh my god,” Bianka gushed, “I love caviar.”
“I know,” I said, sliding a hand to the small of her back.
Lizzy had followed us to the display and taken Bianka’s statement as a cue.
“I’m happy to prepare some for you, Mr. Cameron,” the redhead said.
“It’s John, Lizzy,” I said, turning to her.
“Whatever you like, John,” she said.
I glanced at Bianka and added, “I mean, she might still have my cum on her breath.”
“Wait, are you serious?” Bianka said, her eyes getting wide. Apparently Crystal really was rubbing off on her.
“Serious but indelicate,” Lizzy said, unable to suppress a smile as she put two blinis on a small plate.
“You cheating bastard,” Bianka said and playfully jabbed me in the ribs.
“Where’s your boyfriend, who also happens to be my best friend?” I said, throwing it back at her. We liked to tease each other. I knew how much she liked turning on Jason by catering to his fetish.
Bianka stopped and turned to me. She was grinding her teeth, underscoring her dilated pupils.
“Waiting for you to send me back to him with a messy pussy,” she said. “As usual.”
“Your caviar,” Lizzy said. She had clearly overheard the conversation.
“Thank you, Lizzy,” I said and took the outstretched plate.
I offered it to Bianka, and she picked up one of the blinis, which Lizzy had expertly assembled with a smear of creme fraiche, the lightest touches of egg and onion, and a generous dollop of caviar. Bianka gave a low moan as she ate the perfect bite. I popped mine in my mouth and smiled at her. She took a step closer to me, her skin tight, black dress shimmering in the low light of Hollywood & Vine.
She finished the caviar and said quietly, “That’s coke, caviar, and Champagne. Just missing one of the four C’s that I love so much.”
“Want me to help with that?” I asked.
“You’re finally catching on,” Bianka said. She was an insatiable flirt.
“Do you want everyone to watch or find someplace more private?” I inquired.
“Just a little more private,” she said and slipped her fingers around mine and pulled me through the kitchen and down the hallway.
Bianka led us into the powder room, turned on the lights, and closed the door but didn’t bother to lock it. She swiped down the soft-close toilet seat and then sat on top of it, pulling me to her as she unbuckled my suit pants.
“Let’s get you hard, John,” she said, then swallowed my cock.
Bianka always gave soft, adoring head. She made love to you with her mouth, coaxing out an erection in no time because it felt so ethereal. I was just settling in to enjoy myself fully when she pulled off.
“There we go,” she said, leading me with a warm hand around my cock. “Now let me just do this.”
She narrated as she hiked up the black dress and bent over the vanity, her hands pressing against the marble top. She spread her feet past shoulder width and whipped her hair around to look at me.
“I left enough spit on that beautiful dick, John,” she said, “so just go ahead and slide right in.”
She had bent over and revealed her nakedness under the dress. It cut a sexy path between her ass cheeks, and the straps rode high up her hips. I pushed the thin strip of fabric to the side and pushed my hard cock into her.
“You really are fucking wet,” I said with pride.
“I’m always wet,” Bianka said. “You know that. Especially now that you’ve finally been using me like you’re supposed to.”
“Sometimes it’s fun to tease,” I said and lost myself in the velvety folds of Bianka’s vagina.
“Come on, stud,” Bianka said. “We don’t have to take our time. I want to feel you shoot in me.”
She coupled her words of encouragement – demand? – with a quick hand movement, squeezing my balls and turning her head so I could see her gorgeous, olive-skinned face. She had an uncanny innocence about her and natural beauty that was nearly unrivaled. Even when my balls were slapping against her tanned ass.
“Here you go, slut,” I said with a crooked grin as I pushed my hips into her a final time.
“Yes, good boy!” Bianka cried. “I love that feeling.”
I leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.
“You’re such a good slut,” I whispered to her, and I saw the corners of her mouth break into a smile.
I pushed her dress down as she stood up again and scanned the room. She saw Jason watching us, so she moved in a step closer and gave me a lingering kiss.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to our sex life,” she said and gave me a wink before walking away.
Lizzy was at my side again as soon as Bianka returned to Jason.
“I had no idea what I was getting into,” she said. “There are so many ... hidden depths here, Mr. Cameron.”
“I’m sure you know all about hidden depths, Lizzy,” I quipped.
“You should find out sometime,” she said.
“Aren’t you working?” I asked.
“You would be amazed at what my responsibilities entail,” she said.
“I guess I could ask your boss about those,” I said.
She touched my hand lightly and made penetrating eye contact with me.
“I can show you anytime you’d like,” she said. “But, for now, I think we’re expecting an influx of guests.”
I touched her hip before I walked away and made it back in time to see Tapestry of Scars to win Best Picture. That was icing on the cake. This party was about Juliet, so her win was enough to set the tone for the night. But piling up more Oscars? That was only going to push things to be even more wild. I wondered briefly how insane the night could get. We were in uncharted territory, to some extent. I was eager to find out what would happen.
I didn’t have to wait long because Johnny and Shelly walked through the door. Shelly looked stunning. She wore a tight black mini-skirt that showed off the rippled muscle of her thigh. Her midriff was bare. Her stomach was flat and tan. She wore a black top, which essentially just served as a wrap to showcase her egg-shaped breasts. I beat Lizzy to greet them. Johnny gave me a bro hug. I let my embrace with Shelly linger longer than it probably should have.
“I’m gonna go find Jess,” Johnny said and stalked away.
They had definitely been pre-graming. Shelly’s pupils were the size of balloons.
“You are going to be an attraction with that outfit on,” I observed.
“I wanted to break out of my shell,” Shelly said. “Draw a bit of attention to myself. See who takes the bait.”