Chapter 42

Author’s Note: Before we get to Kat and Jess’s unexpected Hollywood weekend, I’ve got an interlude between John and Rita that fits into this part of the story. I hope you enjoy how these two are coming together.

The drive to the airport that afternoon was boisterous. Kat and Jess were sweetly trying to mask their excitement because they knew the scenario stoked my jealousy a little bit. I appreciated their consideration, but it wasn’t necessary. I was excited for them, in a weird way, and I knew I would do the same thing if the positions had been switched. Plus, I had spent the day putting together a major plan of my own. It was a bit ambitious, but I wanted to do something fun to keep my mind from focusing too much on what Kat and Jess would be doing in LA.

The girls rode in the back of the G-Wagon giggling. Jess pulled out and passed around a makeup compact that was full of cocaine. They took turns snorting directly from the pile, without bothering to cut lines. I caught Kat beaming at me when I looked into the rearview mirror. She mouthed, “I love you,” and I smiled back at her.

Rita and I dropped them at a small airport north of Houston, since our usual plane and crew weren’t available. I kissed Jess deeply and hugged her close.

“Make me proud,” I told her playfully.

“When have I ever not?” she asked, batting her eyes.

Jess nearly bounced up the steps of the jet. Rita had said goodbye and waited for me in the passenger seat. Kat lingered. She took my hand, and I looked her in the eyes.

“Go have fun,” I said.

“I’ll miss you,” she said.

“I know, Kitty Kat,” I said.

“You’re really okay?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said. “You see how I jump at the chance to fuck Juliet. How could I keep that fun from you?”

“I’m excited, I have to admit,” she said.

“I know,” I said and kissed her. “Go be a dirty fuck toy for him. I won’t be happy if you aren’t.”

“Oh, daddy,” Kat sighed. “I’ll tell you every naughty detail, okay?”

“You better,” I said, and I smacked her firm ass and told her to get on board.

Kat bounded up the steps to the cabin. She disappeared inside but then popped her head out one last time to wave and blow me a kiss. I smiled and waved back. I opened the driver’s door to the G-wagon and was greeted by Rita, smiling her ass off.

“Now I get you all to myself?” she said. “Fuck, I can’t wait.”

She leaned over and kissed me deeply.

“You know there’s nothing to worry about,” she said. “It’s just sex.”

“I’m not worried at all,” I said and meant it.

“Do you want to take me home and do a line off my tits?” she asked, licking her lips.

“Nope,” I said with a sly grin.

“No?” Rita said with a pouty lip.

“We’re going to Intercontinental,” I said. “Our flight leaves in an hour, so we’ve got to be quick!”

“What?” Rita asked, her jaw dropping. “What are we doing?”

“Going to dinner,” I said.

“Where?” Rita said, her voice hitting two octaves higher than normal.

I smiled cockily. Rita loved food and, more importantly, the experiences that came with it. While Kat and I loved to cook, Rita was more interested in the memories of shared meals. Early on, when we had first started seriously seeing one another, she told me a story about how her grandmother and mother had taken her to Galatoire’s in New Orleans during a family vacation. It was the first restaurant she ever remembered going to, and, while she didn’t remember much about the food, she had fallen in love with the moment. They had dressed up, and she adored the fuss and elegance of the experience. Despite that formative event, she had never been back, mostly because her ex hated New Orleans. I was determined to rectify that.

“Galatoire’s,” I said.

“You’re kidding,” she said, shock taking over her face and her eyes bugging widely.

“I am not,” I said. “I remember when you told me about it. I wanted to do something special.”

“Oh my god,” she said. “I can’t believe you remembered that. It was so long ago.”

“Before I had even fucked you in the ass,” I said, and she gave me a playful slap.

“Are we really going to Galatoire’s?” she asked.

“We’re really going to Galatoire’s,” I said.

“Oh my god,” she repeated. “I am so sucking your dick for this.”

And as soon as we pulled away from Kat and Jess’s plane to head for our own airport, Rita’s head disappeared in my lap. She fished out my cock and slipped it in her mouth. Her eager efforts had me hard within seconds.

“Fuck, your mouth is so good,” I said.

Rita only grunted. She didn’t miss a beat. Her singular focus was making me cum. It didn’t take much. I warned her, and she swirled her tongue around the tip of my cock. My hot cum splashed into her mouth forcefully, and she moaned happily as she pulled her mouth off of me.

“I love swallowing you,” Rita said, smiling. “But, oh shit! We don’t have any clothes!”

I laughed. “I’ve got it all taken care of, my love,” I said.

Rita grabbed my hand.

“I cannot believe this,” she said. “Galatoire’s? You are so good to me.”

The airport was fairly quiet, and we even had time for a drink in the lounge before our flight took off. It was a short flight, too, and before Kat and Jess had even landed in LA Rita and I had checked into a suite in the Royal Sonesta overlooking Bourbon Street.

“This is incredible,” Rita said as we sipped Champagne on the balcony. “Thank you.”

We kissed, and someone on the street below hollered at us. It made us laugh.

“When is dinner?” she asked.

“Eight o’clock,” I said.

“So plenty of time for you to fuck me,” she said.

Rita rubbed her butt against my crotch, her tennis skirt creeping up dangerously high.

“Do you want to put on a show?” I said, grinding my growing erection into her.

“I think we better go shopping for something appropriate to wear for dinner,” Rita said, emptying her Champagne glass in one long drink.

“Why don’t you look in the closet,” I suggested.

Rita turned around and saw me grinning at her.

“Did you?” she said and ran inside. “You did! Oh, John!”

She pulled out the high-necked red cocktail dress that it had taken some effort to arrange for.

“You’re going to turn every head in the place,” I said.

“You’re too much,” she said and skipped to me, still holding the dress in her right hand.

“I’m just enough, I hope,” I said.

We looked each other in the eyes and smiled.

“If every dream is enough?” Rita said, her eyes welling up slightly. “Then you’re just right.”

We kissed, and I cupped her ass.

“Do you want to fuck on the balcony?” I asked.

Rita shook her head. She carefully laid down the dress along the back of one side of the couch and lifted her leg up over the other half. She flipped up her skirt and spread her ass cheeks.

“No,” she said. “Take my ass right here, baby. Make me your anal whore.”

Seeing her pink, puckered hole in front of me made my semi-hard cock stand at full attention. She looked back at me with a smile and spit crudely on two fingers, which she then worked around the rim of her asshole. After a couple slow circles to spread the moisture around, she plunged one finger into her tight anus, closing her eyes and sighing at the penetration.

“You make me want to be such a slut for you,” Rita said with a deep, sultry voice. “I would do anything to show how much I love you. But this ass? This is yours. Your dick is the only one that will ever be in here. Giving myself to you makes me cum so hard.”