Traffic Girl: Stephanie
Copyright© 2025 by LiveLocalLateBreaking
Chapter 8
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 8 - 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: Okay, I’m back in a little bit of a rhythm. We’re stepping into the heart of the plot drivers for this Book. I hope you like it. There’s a lot of fun to come here. And a lot of antics and mischief. But you knew that.
Four weeks went by in a flash. The low-key time felt almost too good. On the flip side, there was an undeniable excitement about Katie’s album release and supporting tour. One week before her Tuesday night kickoff show at the Hollywood Bowl, her second album, “Building Bridges,” named for its title track, was released. The buzz was immediate. The reviews were glowing, lauding Katie for an edgier, upbeat sound that had started to establish her own identity. She was stepping out of the shadow of Riley, showing off that she was sure in her own voice.
Now she was headlining the Hollywood Bowl. And she was nervous about it.
“Come on, smoke with me,” Kat said as Katie paced at our house before the limo would whisk us the short distance to the Bowl.
She looked at her phone and calculated she had fifteen minutes before pickup.
“Okay,” she said. “That will help.”
It did, as did the breathing exercises she immersed herself in on the way. By the time she arrived in her green room backstage, she was poised and radiated the confidence of someone who was okay with riding the wave of fame. It impressed me that she handled it so well. By the approving looks on the faces of the others, I could tell they felt the same way, too.
We spent a little time just letting it all sink in, just the five of us. Stephanie had immediately gone into PA mode once we arrived. She would ensure every detail was perfect and that Katie never saw a hiccup, that the performance for her was seamless and focused solely on her voice and her moves.
“Katie, do you want a line?” Jess finally said.
“The question isn’t whether I want a line,” Katie said, fully in pop star mode. “The question is how many lines I want.”
“Four, huh?” Jess teased.
“Two is fine,” Katie said with a smile. “I need to get dressed and get into makeup.”
Once Katie did her lines, everyone followed suit. And when the pregame ritual was done, Katie opened the doors, letting in a flood of handlers led by Stephanie.
“Did you decide on your first outfit?” Stephanie asked.
Katie nodded and held up a shimmering, sequined purple skirt and equally sparkly black crop top.
“That’s so hot,” Stephanie said with approval.
“Knock them dead, Katie,” Rita said.
“Break a leg,” Kat added, as Katie started making her way around our circle giving hugs and kisses.
“You’re killing it!” Jess said.
“I love you,” I whispered in her ear.
“I love you, daddy,” she said, then spun around into the whirlwind of budding stardom.
The room emptied as quickly as it had filled up and became strangely quiet. I tried not to read it as an allegory of our recent lives, which had been a rollercoasting between incredible, head-spinning highs like the Oscars and then the comparative humdrum of the past month.
“Did we just get left behind?” Jess said in mock protest.
“We don’t get left behind,” Rita said. “Let’s go see who’s here already.”
The answer was almost everyone. Katie’s opening night was sold out and promised to be star-studded. But the people we cared about were already filling up backstage. Juliet and Melanie. Jason, Crystal, and Bianka. Petey and Alix. Shelly and Johnny. That was just the tip of the iceberg. No one wanted to miss Katie’s big turn in the spotlight.
And it would be a big turn in the spotlight. Katie had taken the bold and unusual path to forego an opening act. Instead, she would perform every track off both her albums. Twenty-three songs, which would make for a set of a tight one-hundred minutes, although she would sprinkle in some cover songs to push the show to two-and-a-half-hours total. The big secret was that Riley planned to come out and sing her frequent encore duet “Vibration Diss” from the Stages Tour.
But things did not go to plan. Katie took the stage and ripped through her set. It was high-energy and welcomed by the audience. Her frenetic pace kept the crowd in a fury. It was an upbeat, relentless concert. Until Katie took a short break between songs for another outfit switch, with just a couple songs left before encores. She came backstage to change, and that’s when Rita got the news.
The four of us and Stephanie were there with Katie while her wardrobe wizard helped her get ready.
“Oh my god,” Rita said, causing the room to go quiet. “Katie...” Her voice trailed off.
“What?” Katie said, her eyes going wide.
“Building Bridges was the No. 1 on this week’s Billboard 200,” she said, letting out a long exhale.
“What?” Katie repeated, blinking.
“Holy shit,” Kat said under her breath.
“Katie!” Jess screamed. “Number ONE!”
Katie put a hand on the back of a nearby chair to steady herself. I walked over and wrapped her in my arms. I kissed the top of her head.
“You’re definitely a star now,” I said, grinning.
She composed herself and finished the wardrobe change. Before she went back out on stage, she did four fast bumps of coke and tried to catch her breath. She hadn’t said much. I could tell her head was spinning. Then, as the band hit some warmup chords, she flipped on the switch all great performers have. She lit up, smiled, and got back out there, a bundle of energy taking the stage as the opening riff to “Sisters of the Sun” played.
We took our positions to the side of the stage and clapped and hooted when “Sisters of the Sun” came to a crisp end.
“Thank you all for being here tonight,” Katie said into the microphone, breathless. “This really is surreal to me to be standing up here.”
A roar went up from the crowd.
“And I just found out something that really blew my mind,” she continued. “If I tell you, do you promise to keep it just between us?”
The crowd roared again. I felt a brush against my sleeve. It was Riley. She gave me a playful pat on the bicep.
“She’s becoming a star right before our eyes,” Riley said.
Then the star almost came crashing down right there.
“They just told me ‘Building Bridges’ is the number-one album on Billboard this week!” Katie shrieked. The crowd would have blown the roof off the Hollywood Bowl, if it had one. “So maybe we’ve got a new Queen of Pop, huh? I’m not in the shadow of anybody, am I?”
Katie laughed when she said it, and the crowd continued its cacophony. She was high on the spotlight, and she had just slipped up.
“Ouch,” Riley said through clenched teeth next to me.
In a flash, there was a flurry of activity that took place around me as Katie launched into her next song on stage. Rita was instantly next to me, saying something reassuring to Riley.
“Still, I don’t think it would be a good look,” was all I heard Riley before she walked away.
“Okay, we need to manage this,” Rita said, putting her phone to her ear.
“What do you need me to do?” I said, Katie’s gaffe fully sinking in.
“Just stay here,” Rita said quickly. “Wait for her. She’s going to be confused when Riley doesn’t come out for the encore.”
“Got it,” I said, but Rita turned her back and covered the mouthpiece of her phone.
“Katie,” I heard her say, but the rest of the conversation was lost in the din of the concert.
Rita came back and slipped her hand in mine.
“I told her Riley got sick and can’t come out,” she said.
Katie blistered through three encores, and the crowd seemed to lift her off stage. I hated that it was going to come crashing down.
It was strange for me to feel helpless at that moment, but Rita and her team took over. Katie was her client, even if this could not be strictly professional. And it could turn into a disaster. So I stepped back and focused on Katie. She would need my support. That was doubly reinforced the moment she stepped off stage. The crowd was still going wild, chanting her name, desperate for one more song. They would have gone into the stratosphere for a duet with Riley. But that wasn’t going to happen, and when Katie understood that, she came off stage and nearly collapsed into my arms.
Her sobs started almost immediately.
“I ... think I ... fucked ... up,” were the only words I could make out. “I need to text her.”
“No,” Rita said. “Don’t do that.”
The next couple hours were a blur of crisis management. We left the Hollywood Bowl in a hurry after the show ended. Rita was still on the phone, finally hanging up with the agreement that Old Katie would meet us at our house as soon as possible. Katie was a blubbering, shuddering mess. Her makeup streaked down her cheeks. Kat and Jess sat on either side, trying to get her to take deep, rhythmic breaths. I sat next to Rita, feeling a little useless, but this wasn’t my area of expertise. I held Rita’s hand, and she squeezed mine reassuringly.
We got home, and it was quiet. Too quiet. It didn’t seem fit for a burgeoning international pop incident. One that TMZ had already picked up, blaring on the front of its homepage: “Riley storms out after Katie’s ‘New Queen of Pop’ dig!”
It was clear instantly that we were not in control of this cycle or these events. For good or bad, Katie’s words got put into the Hollywood night sky, and now they were snowballing under forces far beyond our control.
“Okay, Katie, I get it,” Rita said, taking charge when we arrived home. “You’re upset. You said something flippant, and all these people are going to take it out of context. This happens. It happens all the time.”
“Yeah, but,” Katie said weakly. She was on the couch now, and Kat and Jess remained steadfastly at her side. They were like pillars of positive reinforcement for her.
“No buts,” Rita said. “Old Katie is on her way. Shit, I probably shouldn’t call her that.” She stopped and laughed. “We don’t talk to anyone, obviously. We are going to have a plan before we do anything.”
“You need to smoke,” Kat suggested, putting her hand on Katie’s knee. “Get good and relaxed.”
“That sounds good,” Katie said.
I was about to follow Kat, Jess, and Katie outside, but Rita called me back.
“What is it, love?” I asked.
“Katie should be here soon,” she said. “I think she might be crazy.”
“I’m pretty sure we knew that already, Rita,” I said with a bit more of an acerbic tone than intended.
“She thinks this is a golden opportunity,” Rita continued. “She called it a gift from the viral gods.”
“Okay,” I said. “I can actually see that, if I squint hard enough. I was next to Riley, though, when it happened. She said ‘ouch.’”
“Ugh,” Rita said.
“She seemed pretty pissed,” I said.
“This is not going to go well,” Rita said. But she paused. “Unless...” Her voice trailed off, then she added, “Go be with Katie. I’ve got to make a couple calls. I’ll be right out. Old Katie should be here in 30, 45 minutes tops.”
On the patio, Kat and Jess had already done an admirable job starting to pull Katie from her doldrums. She laughed and let out a plume of smoke.
“I can’t believe you brought that up,” Katie said with a raspy, if not full-throated laugh.
“What did I miss?” I asked, smiling because Katie was finally smiling.
Kat took a long pull on one of the Green Goddess hookah hoses.
“I reminded Katie that this isn’t the most embarrassing thing she’s ever done,” Jess said, pushing a massive amount of smoke out of her lungs. “There was a time at the old Houston Hooker House when she came out of her room after an appointment and didn’t realize she still had cum on her face.”
“A lot of cum on her face,” Kat said, exhaling her hit.
“And I was bending over to do a line,” Katie said, now shedding tears of laughter.
“So this blob of cum goes into her line,” Jess added.
“But I didn’t realize it and just snorted it up,” Katie said. “And I was like, what the fuck just happened?”
We all laughed. It was what Katie needed. Distraction by any means necessary. So we spent the next thirty minutes smoking Kat’s glorious weed and trying to forget there was a profound PR crisis sitting over her head.
“Katie’s here,” Rita finally came out and beckoned us inside, phone still glued to her ear.
Feeling relief at the presence of my college girlfriend was not on my bingo card, but Old Katie came to the scene with a calming, commanding presence. We all went inside and gathered around the kitchen table. Old Katie took charge, starting with her proposed course of action.
“Okay, we have a locked narrative,” Old Katie began. “That’s good. Because it makes it easy to rebut with force any other gossip-based storylines that might come out. This is how TMZ stories end up taking on a life of their own. You can’t nibble around the edges of truth. While it’s not ideal, this is an easy narrative.”
She paused and ran a hand through her hair, which I remembered was a tick she had to keep her focus.
“What I’m going to suggest will probably make you want to cry bullshit at first,” she continued then paused for effect. “But I think this is the biggest opportunity Katie will ever have to become a superstar. If we were going to follow the standard PR playbook, we’d have Katie issue a public apology and suck up Riley. She would issue a statement saying how grateful she is for Riley and how she owes her everything for her career. But we’re not doing that. We are going to capitalize on this, and you can thank me later.”
Rita audibly exhaled. Kat glanced at me. I could see the fear in Katie’s eyes.
“I’ve already talked to Riley. I’ve talked to her people, too,” Old Katie said. “There is some real hurt there, Katie.”
“I know,” Katie said quickly, but was immediately cut off.
“Not now,” Old Katie said. “We’ll deal with it later. I know you’re sincere. You’re also young and inexperienced and had a moment of stupidity. We all do. The question is how you react to it. More importantly, in this business, the question is how you take advantage of it.”
“All right,” I said. “What’s the plan then?”
“It’s a good one,” Rita chimed in. “i just want to say up front that I like it.”
All eyes settled on Old Katie, and I could see she enjoyed this. She was in control. She was managing a crisis. This was a composed, authoritative woman I had never seen before.
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