Traffic Girl - Cover

Traffic Girl

Copyright© 2021 by LiveLocalLateBreaking

Chapter 27

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 27 - John Cameron is a successful, happily single playboy with every intention of remaining that way. Until he bumps into the traffic girl from his favorite local news station. Will it change him? And can he change her?

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Wimp Husband   BDSM   Light Bond   Rough   Spanking   Polygamy/Polyamory   Swinging   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie   Double Penetration   Exhibitionism   Facial   Oral Sex   Sex Toys  

Author’s Note: We’re getting nearer the close of this grand Vegas adventure. After that, it’s Kat’s wedding and on into a new future. I hope you’ll join me as we find out what that future holds!


“Holy shit,” Kat said, “I’ve got a wet spot on my butt. You came so much, baby. It’s pouring out my ass.”

“Let’s take you back to change,” I said. I directed the limo driver to return to the Bellagio so Kat could change out of her cum-stained dress. “I do like that you’re just completely marked with my cum. This will give me a chance to wash off, too.”

“I love it,” she said. “It feels so naughty having you drip out of me. And that was such a hot fuck. I literally have no words to describe it.”

I nibbled her ear. “I’m going to give you so much cum tonight,” I said.

“I deserve it,” she responded.

Back in the villa, we heard a series of pleasured moans coming from Kelly in the second bedroom. Kat changed quickly, while I washed up from our anal session. While waiting for Kat to return, I cut four large lines of coke for us, then tiptoed over to Kelly’s room to see if I could play voyeur.

It didn’t surprise me that she hadn’t closed the door. I discreetly glanced in and took in a lewd sight. Kelly, wearing nipple clamps, rode a massive, thick cock reverse cowgirl. Her fake breasts rode high and proud, pointed upward, and her pussy and the cock shone with juices. From the mess around the copulating pair, it looked like Kelly had been squirting. Her face was contorted in pleasure. Then I saw who she was with. One of the best quarterbacks in the NFL. An all-pro, Super Bowl champion, and hung like a horse. Some guys have all the luck.

Kelly noticed me and put a finger to her lips. I nodded and quietly went back to the living room, where Kat was setting down her purse and about to kneel to snort some coke.

“Wait for me,” I said. “I want to watch.”

Kat smiled and licked her lips. “It turns you on so much, doesn’t it?” she said.

“You have no idea,” I admitted.

She made a show of snorting the two lines, locking her eyes on mine as the powder disappeared into her delicate nose. She threw her head back and inhaled deeply, then licked a finger and picked up the residue on the table, which she rubbed on her gums. I kneeled next to her, about to take my turn.

“You already fucked me in the ass in public,” she said. “Imagine what I’ll be willing to do for you now that I’m high. I’m daddy’s little coke whore.”

I did my lines and kissed her.

“You’re the best coke whore I’ve ever met,” I said. “Let’s go find some trouble.”

As we prepared to leave the villa, I told Kat she should check on Kelly.

“You’ll never believe who she’s with,” I said.

“Oh, I know,” Kat said. “She told me. He’s a client.”

“I thought Kelly...” I said but Kat interrupted.

“It’s not only a business proposition for her,” Kat said, laughing.

“You might want to check him out,” I said. “It’s ... impressive.”

Kat made a brief detour and returned.

“Some guys have all the luck,” she said with a giggle to me.

“It’s not fair, right?” I said.

“I know I said I won’t fuck other guys, but that one could be an exception,” Kat said.

“We might have to make a hall pass list,” I said.

Back in the limo, Kat now in a form-fitting white A-line dress, we were chatty and loving. We headed to the Skyfall Lounge -- I was keen to enjoy a great view on a night with beautiful weather -- so we had a while to talk.

“How did you figure out you were turned on by seeing girls do lines?” Kat asked.

“It was in college,” I began. “There was a girl on the UCLA cheerleading team named Katie. We had bumped into each other at parties from time to time, and I would say we were acquaintances. Then it ended up that my fraternity had a party for her sorority. I was in a pretty wild frat.”

“I believe that,” Kat said with a laugh.

“Most of the cheerleading team was in her sorority, and they congregated around a big pile of coke at this party,” I continued. “I think Katie maybe thought I viewed her as a good girl, but she made eye contact with me when it was her turn to do a line. I had a huge crush on her, and seeing her do that -- it felt like she was doing it for me the way she looked at me -- was such a turn on. I was hooked.”

“So what happened with Katie?” Kat asked.

“We dated for a while,” I said. “Looking back on it, I realize she was my first coke whore. We had a lot of fun. She got me to try it the first time.”

“Oh really? Tell me about it,” she said.

“It was funny, actually, it was that night at the party,” I said. “I was getting a drink for her, and she asked me if I had ever tried blow. I said I hadn’t, and she said I should. She was enthusiastic and then kind of pulled back, and I asked what was wrong. I’ll never forget what she said, because I guess I was pretty naive at the time, and she said, ‘I really hope that you don’t get coke dick.’”

Kat laughed.

“It was a breakthrough because Katie was the first girl I’d ever met who was just very sexually forward,” I said. “And I really liked it. It was a real ego boost to know she already had decided to fuck me.”

“And I think we both know you don’t get coke dick,” Kat said, squeezing my cock.

“I do not,” I said. “And Katie taught me that.” I laughed. “She said I fucked like superman on coke.”

Kat straddled me, grinding her bare pussy against my pants. “You do fuck like superman,” she said. “What happened to Katie?”

“We were friends with benefits for a while,” I said. “We fucked a lot. She was a lot of fun. But we both liked to have a lot of fun. It was very casual. And I had a thing for cheerleaders, so,” my voice trailed off.

“You realized you could be a ladies’ man,” Kat completed the thought for me.

“I did,” I said. “It was a very powerful realization.”

“I bet those coeds loved that you didn’t get coke dick,” she said.

“I’ll admit,” I said, “that learning coke could be a tool to get pussy was very heady. I used it as leverage.”

“You’re so naughty,” she said, still slowly dry humping me. I was sure she was leaving a stain on my pants. “You love using as many sluts as you can.” She kissed my ear and neck.

“I do,” I said. “There’s never enough pussy. But that should also say something about you. That I love being with you even after all this time.”

“We have so many adventures to come, don’t we?” Kat said, holding her hands on either side of my face and looking sincerely in my eyes.

“We do,” I said, grinning mischievously. “And it’s going to keep going tonight.”

We made out as the limo pulled up to the Delano, adjacent to Mandalay Bay. We took the elevator to the top floor and the Skyfall lounge. Our butler had reserved a table on the terrace for us, his power reaching any MGM property. It had a breathtaking view of the entire Vegas Strip. When helicopters buzzed by giving tours, it felt like they were at eye level.

Kat and I sat in the perfect weather, enjoying a bottle of Champagne and talking. Our buzzes were perfectly pleasant, and it made for a delightful atmosphere of intimate conversation. I was explaining to Kat how I had made my way to Houston after UCLA. It was a strange realization that we hadn’t discussed some basic things from our past.

“I was working and getting my MBA,” I explained, “and I learned really quickly that the undergrad girls at UH became a lot of fun if you threw around a little money or flashed a gram or two of blow.”

“Where were those girls when I was in school?” Kat wondered. “I don’t know if I ever saw cocaine as an undergrad.”

“What sorority were you in?” I asked, knowing she wasn’t. We laughed.

“Maybe I was just sheltered,” she said. “I was a little bit of a nerd.”

“Seems like you found the party just fine when you moved back from LA,” I said.

“I think about that sometimes,” Kat said. “I was this local girl who came home, but the crowd I ran with when I moved back was so different. I mean, you met Rita. We met each other I think within a week of when I came to town.”

“And it sounds like you were thick as thieves,” I said.

“We really were,” she said. “We worked together and then saw each other at our apartment and realized, hey, we should hang out. We were also single and, as it quickly became clear, liked to party. A lot.”

“I want to hear more about that,” I said.

“It started innocently enough,” Kat explained. “We were both at the pool and started talking. Girl stuff. You know how it is -- polite at first, and then we had a few drinks, and one of us, I can’t remember who, mentioned something a little off-color or sexual, and it was like breaking the dam on it. But I distinctly remember letting it slip, just in passing, that I had come to enjoy the occasional pick-me-up and needed to find a source in Houston. And Rita’s response was just classic. She asked if I needed a doctor to prescribe something or liked to ski where it doesn’t snow. It took me a couple moments, and I must have looked a little naive. But I got it and finally said I liked fresh powder in tropical climates.”

She laughed. It was silly. But it turned me on, like I was privy to something I shouldn’t be.

“Anyway, Rita told me I was in luck” Kat continued. “She was a very enthusiastic partier and had a wonderful source and would be happy to make sure I got hooked up. And from that point on, until she got married? Oh god. We would party at the pool and all over town with coke and drinks. We always kept it pretty discreet, but we had way too much fun.”

I smiled. This was fun for me. “What’s way too much?”

She smiled right back. “Let me put it this way,” she said. “We used to wear matching cheetah print bikinis at the pool and say we were cock hunting.” She laughed again. “We did a lot of coke together. We’d carpool and do lines or a booty bump before we headed into work. She also had a big thing for athletes, a lot of whom also felt a need to be somewhat discreet in their dalliances. Some of them, especially football players, lived in our building. We kind of developed a little group where we got passed around.”

“I’m amazed you have such a good girl reputation,” I marveled. “You were such a party girl!”

“I learned from Rita, who was very good at juggling public persona and her wild side,” she said. “And now you’ve allowed me to have my cake and eat it, too.”

“How could you keep it a secret?” I asked, curious.

“It was pretty easy,” she said. “We’d be careful about who we did coke with and never flaunted it. We were cool about the guys we hooked up with. It’s easier as a woman. We could dictate the terms. If we said we needed them to be discreet, they did it, or the honey pot would dry up. The football guys totally got it. That became our usual outlet.”

“You’re lucky to have had two really good mentors,” I observed.

Kat’s eyes bored into mine. “You want to fuck her again,” she said. “Rita, I mean.”

I smiled. “What makes you say that?”

“I know you, John,” she said. “You have a crush on her!”

I looked sheepish but didn’t deny it.

“I’ll tell you what,” she continued, “when I’m gone on my honeymoon, you can have her. Consider it another wedding gift. But you should know something.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“She doesn’t do anal,” Kat said, matter of factly. “So don’t even think about leaving me for her.”

“Doesn’t do anal?” I said with a tone of mock aghast. “What do you bet I can turn her into an anal slut?”

“No chance,” she said.

We finished up our Champagne and returned to the limo. I had a wicked grin on my face.

“What’s next?” Kat said. “Or should I even ask?”

“We’re going to one of my favorite cocktail bars,” I said. “Alibi at the Aria. And I have an assignment for you.” My eyes gleaned.

“Is it a game or a challenge?” Kat said, giving a dead stare straight back to me.

“A little bit of both,” I said.

Kat arched her eyebrows.

“You have to get a girl to agree to come back to the villa with us,” I said flatly.

“I’m sure that’ll be easy enough,” she said, eyes locked on mine. “What’s your endgame?”

“To be in control,” I said. “To push you out of your comfort zone. To do it for us.”

Kat licked my ear and neck lightly. “I’ll do it, daddy,” she said. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

“Nah,” I said quickly. “Just trying to expand boundaries. And get you used to this. I’m going to pursue other women. I want you to be a part of it. Can you be okay with that?

“It makes me a little nervous,” she confessed. “But I’m okay with it. There’s something exciting about it.”

I wanted to bend Kat to my will. I’d keep pushing her until she said no. I wanted to find out what her real hard limits were. I started to recognize the mixture of excitement and trepidation in her eyes. She pulled the coke bullet from her clutch and took an aggressive snort in each nostril before offering it to me. I did the same, and the limo made the turn into the Aria’s north valet.

“Let’s go find the biggest slut in this place,” I said and kissed her.

Kat kissed me back. “You already have,” she said and exited the door.

Alibi Ultra Lounge is an open air, circular bar that is a thumping heart of the Aria. It made people-watching easy. It had comfortable seating and was generally an easy place to observe and meet people. On solo trips to Vegas, it had become a favorite place to go and pick up one night stands, and I’d generally found it successful.

We had a table and couch in the large, open area to the right of the bar, with a commanding view of the bar and anyone walking through the casino. A waitress in a black, faux leather bustier approached us to take our drink order. I got us our usual bottle of Champagne, and Kat asked her name before she walked away.

“I’m Amber,” she said and smiled. She had cool blue eyes, dyed blonde hair in need of a touchup, and breasts that poured out the cups of the bustier.

“Thanks for taking such good care of us, Amber,” Kat said and smiled warmly.

I put my arm around Kat as we settled in and observed the scene.

“I’m going to make Amber an ally,” she said.

“Smart thinking,” I said. “Wait staff always knows what’s going on.”

Amber returned with our Champagne, and Kat continued to chat with her, asking how the night was going and how she was doing. It was kind but also served the purpose of getting a feel for the venue that night.

We sipped and talked for half an hour before Kat excused herself to the restroom. I knew she was bumping up, but as she returned she also made a lap around the bar. She moved with poise and confidence. I loved watching her work a room. She stopped at a table of three women who appeared to be similar in age to her. It was apparent she had complimented one of the women on her earrings. Kat sat down with them and talked briefly before finally gesturing in my direction and excusing herself.

I smiled when Kat returned.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“Thirty-fifth birthday party,” she said. “They’re from Atlanta.”

“Wedding rings?” I inquired. Kat nodded. “What’s your take?”

“Nice, but I’m not sure they’re target material,” she said. “They didn’t take my hint about coke.”

“Uptight southern housewives?” I said.

She laughed and said, “Maybe. But I left the door open for a drink if they wanted to join us for a birthday toast. I’m more interested in the four at the table next to them. I saw two of them leaving the restroom when I did, and I’m positive they were high. I’ll bet you the other two go to the restroom any minute.”

As if on cue, a blonde and brunette in matching mini dresses of different colors got up and walked to the ladies’ room adjacent to Alibi. They whispered and looked casually conspiratorial.

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