Chapter 8

Author’s Note: Time for a little bit of crazy!

“Oh my god, is this just for us?” Riri exclaimed as we walked up to the Gulfstream G600.

I put my hand on the small of her back and guided her the short distance to the open stairs leading up to the cabin door.

“Now do you believe I’m not full of shit?” I asked playfully.

“We never thought you were full of shit,” Riri’s friend, Kenzie, said. “Well, maybe just a little. But not now!”

It was 10 a.m. on Thursday, and the heat was already rising from the asphalt tarmac. August in Houston was the best time of year to escape the city, even if you were going to the desert. We’d be in Las Vegas before lunch.

Riri and Kenzie held up their end of the bargain, bouncing excitedly into the limo when I picked them up that morning before heading to the airport. I had promised them $3,000 each for the weekend, half up front and half on the flight home. Kat and Jess were preparing for the first pro football party of the season, so it was the perfect time for me to get away. And two 24-year-old party girls were my ideal distraction.

The girls both wore skin-tight athleisure shorts that left half their ass cheeks hanging out. Midriff-baring shirts and huge piles of extension-laden blonde hair completed the picture of my Vegas bimbos on parade.

I let them ascend into the jet first, enjoying immensely watching their asses rise to face level with me. Riri had a thick, juicy ass. Her curves and tiny waist were alluring. Kenzie was skinny, with a toned ass and huge tits. She took the bimbo prize, to be sure, but she gave off an aloof vibe. Riri was, without hesitation, a slut who liked to show off.

“Good morning, Christy,” I said as I entered the jet. “So nice to see you again.”

“Good morning, Mr. Cameron,” the flight attendant said cheerfully. “How are Kat and Jess doing?”

“Busy!” I said. “A major social engagement this weekend, so I’ve had to find a way to distract myself.”

“It looks like you’ll have plenty of that on your hands,” she said.

“Well, since you keep refusing to join me on an adventure, I guess I’ll have to make do,” I teased.

Christy had become my usual flight attendant while flying private, which now was most of the time. She was young, beautiful, and liked to spar with me verbally. But I never had succeeded in getting her to participate in any debauchery. She was, however, extremely good at her job and had an uncanny ability to look the other way.

“You’ll find your catering arrangements have been taken care of,” she said.

“I knew they would be,” I said. “Thanks, Christy.” I slipped her a $100 bill.

Riri and Kenzie were fawning over the jet, trying out the different seats -- spinning around in the captain’s chairs and laying out on the long bench seats -- and engaging in a quick photoshoot for their social media. It was that kind of fake posturing for Instagram that bored me, and I reminded myself to get these girls fucked up as quickly as possible. I could handle the immaturity and social climbing long enough to defile their magnificent bodies. They could show the outside world how upper-class they appeared, but I knew who they were in reality. They were whores. My whores. That’s all that mattered.

We were airborne less than ten minutes after coming aboard. As we left Houston behind us, Christy poured Dom Perignon for us. When she put the bottle on ice, she gave me a knowing glance and retired to her jump seat.

“How is it, girls?” I said, raising my glass to toast them, sitting across the table from me.

“I could get used to this,” Riri said.

“Seriously,” Kenzie said. “Thanks, John, for being legit.” Every bit of her face was sculpted, from her eyebrows to her fake lashes, obvious nose job, and very full lips.

“For real,” Riri agreed. “There are so many flakes out there.”

“To making some great memories in Vegas,” I said. We clinked glasses. “Have you ever flown private before?”

They both shook their heads.

“It’s so much easier,” I said. “You just walk on and get where you’re going. The Champagne is great. And the more lax security makes it easier to get the party started.”

I took a vial of cocaine out of my jeans pocket and set it on the table.

“I really like to party,” I said. The lustful stare that Kenzie gave confirmed what I had suspected about her. Riri was easier.

“Oh, well, we like to keep things real and classy,” Riri protested briefly.

I took her hand and shut her down.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” I said. “I wanted to bring you both to Vegas because I know you’re party girls. You can just be yourselves with me.”

“But,” Riri said, but I cut her off again.

“You had a couple flakes left on your nose when you came back from the bathroom at happy hour,” I said. “It’s when I knew for sure we’d have a lot of fun.”

After a brief frown, she flashed a brilliant, whitened-teeth smile.

“I would love a couple bumps,” she said. She glanced at Kenzie, who looked like she was ready to climb out of her chair.

“Help yourselves to as much as you want,” I said. “There is a ton more where this came from.”

Kenzie didn’t need me to tell her twice. I had already ground up the coke in the vial, so I simply handed her a heavy credit card. With the speed of a wild west gunfighter drawing his sidearm, she poured the entire contents -- about three grams -- onto the table and parceled it out into a dozen lines. She looked at the powder with unwavering adoration.

“There we go,” she said, tapping the credit card firmly against the table, then licking both sides of the edge before handing it back to me.

“Impressive,” I said and passed her the silver straw I carried in the coke kit. “Ladies first.”

Kenzie didn’t even contemplate letting Riri go first. She accepted the straw and, like someone stranded in the desert finally getting a drink of water, seamlessly snorted two lines. She passed the straw to Riri. Delicately, to keep her comically long, fake red fingernails from poking herself in the eye, she rubbed her nostrils together and made eye contact with me.

“Wow,” Kenzie said. “That is fantastic shit.”

Riri followed suit with equal familiarity, and her response was just as enthusiastic.

“Oh, fuck,” she said. “That’s no joke. Your plug is legit.” She rubbed her nose, too, and turned to me. “Did I get it all this time?” She flashed a mischievous smile.

“Not a single crystal left behind,” I said. She passed me the straw and let her hand linger just a touch too long on mine. Everything was trending in the right direction.

The coke was superb, as usual, and it made the perfect catalyst for the flight. We spent the three hours in the air drinking Champagne, doing lines at regular intervals, and trading stories of wild escapades. It was the perfect primer for the weekend, setting the tone for what was to come.

Riri, as she got tipsy, revealed herself as highly sexual. Mostly she spoke in double entendres or made veiled references to naughty adventures in the past. The only specific anecdote came out when Kenzie mentioned one of Riri’s ex-boyfriends. She had said, before quickly changing the subject, “I would let him be in on double penetrating me again anytime.”

Kenzie, on the other hand, seemed less interested in men. She also gave off a slightly submissive vibe to Riri. She regaled us with stories of wild parties -- like how she got busted for cocaine possession in New Orleans when she was only nineteen and once took ecstasy and mushrooms at a music festival with a legitimately famous pop star and his wife.

By the time we landed in Vegas, the cocaine was all gone. As a result, the girls were still flying as we got into the limo to the Wynn, and Riri was starting to get handsy. It was barely lunch time and, even on Thursday, the city was just starting to fully come to life. We checked into our two-bedroom villa, and I gave the girls a few minutes to fawn over it before prodding them to change into bikinis. I had a cabana for us at the pool.

Their bikini bodies did not disappoint. Riri wore a hot pink thong, with a top that pushed up her fake tits, causing them to nearly spill out. The bottoms let her voluptuous ass jiggle seductively. Kenzie looked like a fitness model. Her black thong framed a firm, taut ass that featured a pair of kissing lips tattooed on her left cheek. Her tits were hard and proud, with prominent nipples breaking through the nylon fabric of her suit.

I had lunch delivered to our cabana, but the girls were more interested in frolicking before the crowd at the pool and doing as much cocaine as possible. I had supplied them each with a coke bullet, and they were ducking behind the cabana curtains every ten minutes or so to bump up. The upshot of that was it made Riri horny. It was scorching hot, and we spent a good deal of time in the pool cooling off. Riri sidled up next to me, while Kenzie stood proudly and collected stares from onlookers.

“I want to taste that dick,” Riri whispered to me, rubbing her hand over the front of my swim trunks under the water.

We toweled off and closed the curtains to the cabana. It was obvious what was going on. I sat down on the couch inside, and Riri dropped to her knees, protecting them from the concrete with our discarded towels. She pulled down her bikini top, and I greedily pawed her tits while she fished my cock out of my trunks. She licked her fat, filled lips and with practiced skill swallowed my full length down her throat.

“Yeah, that’s good,” I said with a contented sigh. There was always an element of risk to meeting a new sugarbaby type. They could be a flake or a dud or believe the fiction that they were being paid just to act as arm candy. It was nice to see Riri understood her end of the deal.

“You have a really nice dick,” Riri said, lifting her mouth off my erection with a pop.

“You’ve got a great mouth,” I said.

“Thanks,” she said and flashed a wicked smile. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“I love a cocksucking slut,” I said.

“Mmmmm,” she responded. “I like being called names and being talked dirty to.”

“Then shut up and suck me, bitch,” I said firmly. “It’s what your mouth is best for.”

She moaned happily and went back to work. I was pent up, and her mouth felt great. It wasn’t long before I warned her that I was about to cum, and she swallowed my sperm effortlessly. I patted her head, and she gave a happy grin before standing up.

“I don’t like to leave a mess,” she said, gathering her tits back into her bikini top.

“This is a perfect start to the weekend,” I said.

“Giving head makes me so horny,” Riri said. “I hope you can get it up again soon. A dick that thick is going to make me cum so hard.”

I grabbed her ass and kissed her. “Coke is like viagra for me,” I told her.

“When I get going,” she said, “I need to fuck a lot.”

“Funny thing,” I said, “I can fuck a lot.”

We laughed and pulled open the curtains again. I slipped my arm around Riri’s lower back as we reentered the pool. Kenzie was holding court, surrounded by three young, muscular, and heavily tattooed men. She obviously relished the attention.

“Shit,” I heard Riri mutter under her breath.

And that is where my perfect Vegas weekend tanked. To put it simply, Kenzie threw a tantrum. She didn’t want to hang out. She wanted to party with these guys in Vegas. She wanted to hook up with a DJ. But, also, she apparently wanted my Wynn villa, drugs, and money. She was drunk and under the influence of at least an eight ball of cocaine at the time.

I wasn’t going to force someone to hang out if she didn’t want to. I told her she could keep the $1,500 I had given her up front, but I wasn’t going to subsidize a weekend in Vegas that didn’t involve me. The three of us had returned to the villa briefly to hash it all out.

“There’s a quid pro quo here,” I said to her. “Sorry to be blunt, but I’m not paying for arm candy, and I think you knew that.”

“Those guys are just so hot,” Kenzie whined.

Riri took Kenzie to the second bedroom, and they talked for a few minutes. I was not amused by the turn the weekend had taken. Vegas was a drama-free zone for me, and I didn’t have patience for anyone acting like a toddler.

Riri reappeared and was obviously trying very hard to salvage the situation. She rubbed my chest and spoke in a sultry voice.

“She’s waiting for you and wants to make it right,” she said. “I’ll go wait at the cabana.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said, somewhat aloofly.

“I’m having so much fun,” she said. “I don’t want it to stop!” And she let her juicy ass shake on the way out the door.

I figured it was worth a shot. Kenzie was incredibly hot, and I wanted to fuck her. So why not give her a second chance? In the bedroom, she waited for me. She was nude, reclining on the bed. Her body was insane, every inch of her beautifully sculpted. From her proud, hard tits with powerfully erect nipples to the oval gap between her thighs that framed an inviting, hairless cunt, her skin was perfectly smooth and tan. Her belly ring sparkled. She held her lips in a duck face shape.

“I’m sorry, John,” she said huskily. “Cocaine can make me a little ... aggressive. Especially if I feel some anxiety about a new situation.”

“It’s forgotten I said,” dropping my clothes to the ground to join her on the bed. She spread her legs invitingly. This was taking a turn for the better.

“I just get crazy around tatted up guys,” she said. “They’re my weakness.”

“I get it,” I said. “But my fun has to come first, since I’m footing the bill.” I thought that was a pretty reasonable, even generous, position.

I met her lips, but she wasn’t receptive to my tongue. I recalibrated.

“Why don’t you suck me to get me hard,” I suggested.

Kenzie balked. “I only do that with people I’m dating,” she said. “I think it’s super intimate.”

Jesus Christ, I thought to myself.

“How about I go down on you?” I said. “I love eating out a beautiful girl.”

“Oh, I don’t really like that,” she said.

“Okay,” I said, controlling the rising irritation I felt. “What do you do?”