Chapter 50

Reality came back and slapped us in the face after the party with Henry and Riley. Hard. The blackmail of Nikki at Infinity in Houston was unrelenting. The investigators had traced it back to her husband and two of his cronies. They were bad guys, plain and simple. They refused to back down, willing to expose and discredit Nikki and gamble that her husband and his church could take the heat. Her husband was steadfast in his position that he would simply throw Nikki out on the street, brandish her a whore, and expel her from his life. His bet was that the churchgoers would see it as an act of pure faith and pour even more devotion – and, more importantly, more money – into his ministry.

So Jess made the toughest call of her career. She shut down the agency’s Houston branch. Gloria jumped at Jess’s offer to come make a go of it in the porn industry with Daydream. Jen, the other traffic girl, floated the idea of interviewing for jobs in Vegas. She had become addicted to the sex, drugs, and money of the lifestyle and didn’t want to give it up. Nikki and Julie, on the other hand, were torn. Nikki could accept her husband’s offer to get in line and be a good little Stepford Wife. Julie wanted to be wherever Nikki was. They had developed a deeply passionate, intimate relationship. The question that remained open was how to maintain it.

So we waited to see what Nikki and Julie’s fate would hold. In the meantime, the girls were eager to turn their attention to a long-overdue task, which we agreed could not be delayed any further. They were going to plan our wedding, and it was going to happen as soon as we could work out all the logistics.

Getting married always lurked in the back of our minds, but collectively we tended to get lost in the present. Our lives had undergone such drastic changes over the past few years, we felt like it hadn’t slowed down enough to pause and take care of this formality. Even if it was just a formality, it was also an essential commitment and symbol each of us wanted. And we had talked generally, many times, about how we wanted our wedding to be. It was simply time to prioritize it and take action.

Details fell into place quickly. The girls had a good idea of how they wanted this to play out. But timing also had a central role in scheduling. It was going to be impossible to gather everyone important to us during football season, so we settled on a very small ceremony, while having a mega-bash reception during the late winter or early spring. In some ways, this made everything easier. We wouldn’t have to juggle a bunch of schedules. We could maximize the intimacy of the ceremony and then blow the doors off with a second-to-none reception after things had settled back down.

Bifurcating this monumental occasion galvanized the girls to plan part one. They knew immediately they wanted a destination ceremony. They also jumped right into dress shopping. It consumed them for weeks, to the point where I started working more just to keep myself distracted. As the search drew to a close – and I was permitted exactly zero information about how it was going – the girls took some pity on me and set up a surprise.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, with summer at its full stretch, and the girls crammed into a limo with two bottles of Champagne for another visit to Galia Lahav for wedding dress planning. I had taken the afternoon off because Jess had given me a cryptic, if explicit, instruction: if the doorbell rings, answer it.

About twenty minutes after the girls departed, as I savored some deep drags off a thick joint filled with the first harvest from Kat’s home-grown weed, the doorbell did just that. I snuffed the spliff out temporarily and got up. I had the faintest beginnings of a nice buzz clouding my brain as I opened the door, and it took me a moment to process what stood before me. On the front step stood Kayla and Ginger, each wearing a double-breasted, beige trench coat that was buttoned up tightly except at the wide lapel. Kayla wore mirrored aviator sunglasses and had her blonde hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. Ginger had black cat-eye sunglasses perched on her nose, but I was drawn to her hair, which was up in pigtails. They both grinned mischievously at me, but Kayla spoke first.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said, “but we smelled marijuana. Do you mind if we come in and inspect the premises?”

“Uh,” I stammered. She had caught me off guard, then I realized I should play along. “Well, as you know, ma’am, marijuana is legal in California.”

“We’re not here for the weed,” Kayla said firmly.

“Yeah,” Ginger piped in, “we want the cocaine. A lot of it.”

The pornstars took two steps inside the house and closed the door behind them. They stood before me, sizing me up. I did the same. With their trench coats, Kayla wore tall black Louboutin stilettos. Ginger wore knee-high, patent leather boots. In a choreographed move, they untied the belts on their coats, cocked their heads flirtatiously to one side, and slowly unbuttoned them. When they finished, they held the beige fabric closed around them briefly, and Kayla spoke again.

“John Cameron,” she said, her voice dripping with a professional level of seduction, “welcome to your Daydream Fantasy.”

In unison, Kayla and Ginger let the trench coats fall to the floor. My jaw went with them. Kayla was completely nude underneath it. I let my gaze start at her delicate neck, then sauntered down her porcelain-skinned body, lingering at her outrageously long, erect nipples, fit stomach, and settling on the smooth, inviting junction between her thighs. The only item out of place was the black Playboy bunny tattoo on her inner hip, an impulsive, youthful move from her days as a stripper before she got into porn. Ginger, on the other hand, wore a translucent, nude-colored bodysuit. It was like camouflage of her most delicious bits, giving just enough hint of mystery to make her as alluring as the bombshell Kayla.

They stepped forward, Kayla a half-pace ahead, the clear leader here. She put her hand on my chest and let her beestung lips come tantalizingly close to mine. Ginger approached me from the side, sliding a hand over my crotch and nibbling my ear.

“Your girls were very detailed,” Kayla said. “So, seriously, get us the coke.”

“I promise the coke is just the tip of the iceberg,” Ginger whispered, her lips tickling my ear.

I let out a long, controlled exhale. The girls had set me up. I would have to thank them later. For now, I needed to play the good host. I would gladly suffer through it.

I went behind the bar and quickly produced a mirror and two straws, along with a carbon fiber card. I opened a grinder and was happy to find at least an eight ball already prepped and ready to go. I dumped it out on the mirror and put the setup on the bar top.

“You want to watch us chop it up, too?” Kayla asked.

I nodded.

“Such a fucking perv,” Ginger said, her voice full of admiration.

“We love a fucking perv,” Kayla said, as she artfully took the pile of cocaine and carved it into unabashedly thick lines like a true coke enthusiast.

As she worked, I relayed an abbreviated version of my college tale of falling in love with watching girls do lines.

“Believe it or not,” Kayla said as she prepared to address the first line, “I didn’t do coke when I was a stripper. I got into it when I started porn. It was everywhere. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a set where it wasn’t a blizzard. I’m a pretty easy-going chick, so I was like, sure, I’ll try that.” She paused just long enough to snort one large line, then continued. “But I guess what’s weird about me is that I just consider cocaine part of work. It’s just omnipresent, and I basically treat it like coffee.”

I laughed and mentioned how, during their television days, Kat and Rita essentially treated coke the same way. Kayla kept her head buried in the snow, taking a second line but not passing the mirror.

“Well, I’ve got you both beat,” Ginger said playfully. “I went to prep school. And when you get a bunch of kids with money together, you’re going to get drugs. There was a lot of weed, of course, but the cocaine was a special treat. Looking back on it, the quality was pretty bunk, but it was fun. I loved being in the party scene.”

“And you still do, sweetie,” Kayla said, sniffing repeatedly to make sure the load of coke she had just inhaled stayed up her sinuses.

But then she bent over again and made eye contact with me. She pressed her naked tits against the top of the bar, emphasizing her magnificent nipples, which were fully aroused. My gaze darted between her tits and her face, not wanting to miss a moment of the action. My cock, teased so far, was now raging and out of control. This was another level of fantasy for me, something I had fantasized about as a much younger man, yet here it was before more. And way hotter than even my depraved mind could comprehend.

“Sorry, I’m going to be a greedy little bitch,” Kayla said unapologetically.

Just like that, two more huge lines of coke disappeared up her nose. It was a flex, something that reminded me of Jess at the height of her usage.

“Goddamn, I just can’t get enough of this pure shit,” Kayla said.

Her eyes were already glazed over, her pupils like the head of a pin. She licked her lips, which were slightly parted. Her nipples looked like they had gotten even harder.

“Is it my turn now?” Ginger said, her tone still playful.

“Help yourself,” Kayla said, sliding the mirror across the bar to her redheaded counterpart.

Ginger wasted no time. She was all business, and she worked the cocaine with the carbon fiber card like a pro. Her movements were crisp, practiced, and without waste. It took maybe six seconds for her to form two lines that looked as long and thick as her index finger. She picked up the glass straw with her left hand, brushed her silky red hair back with her right, and made the two lines disappear as quickly as she had created them. She punctuated the moment by licking the crumbs off the carbon fiber card and shooting a piercing look at me.

“How was that, John?” she asked. “Did it make your dick hard seeing two pornstars get coked out of their minds just so you can play with them?”

“Jesus,” I said, my brain still catching up as I processed the scene. Kayla and Ginger kept pressing, which made it difficult to do that.

“Now it’s your turn, babe,” Kayla said.

“Yeah,” Ginger said brightly, her green eyes shining. “Where are you going to do your lines?”

In a moment of perfect clarity, I heard the words roll off my tongue as I said, “Kayla’s tits and your ass.”

Ginger gave a little gasp of delight. Kayla cupped her tits, pointing them at me as she squeezed her nipples.

“Come here,” I said, motioning to Kayla and speaking firmly. I was regaining my bearings.

She walked around the bar and stood nearly even with me since I was sitting down. Her tits jutted out magnificently. Her ponytail bobbed from side to side, and I leered at those luscious nipples. Ginger had put the mirror with the coke on it back on the bar, and I grabbed the carbon fiber card and scooped some up. Kayla’s hands wandered down to her lower back, and she used them to push her tits out even more proudly. I delicately put the coke in the middle of her left breast and quickly bent down to snort it. The harsh angle made for a sloppy approach, and a good bit of powder was left behind. I pushed what I could up my nose but then immediately let my mouth greedily suck at her breast. She slipped a hand behind my head and pulled me harder against her. She gasped as I bit her nipple but finally released me.

“Fuck, I could do that all day,” I said.

“Not all day,” Ginger said. “Don’t you want to do some off my ass again? Or do you want to see if another part of my body is better for it?”

“Nope, pretty sure your ass is the best,” I said with a laugh.

Ginger had come around the bar, too, and now stuck out her backside in exaggerated fashion. The nude bodysuit she wore was translucent but a hindrance. She could see by the look in my eye that I wanted her naked.

“Why don’t you rip it off?” she said.

“Rip it off?” I echoed.

“Literally,” she said, blinking her long eyelashes.

The coke rush hit me, and I smiled. Kayla ceded the space in front of me to Ginger. I slid off the bar stool and stood up, dwarfing her five-foot-four frame, although she was more like five-eight because of the heels on her boots. She had perched her sunglasses on top of her head and stood before me with her hands on her hips, like she was daring me to do what she had asked. So I did. The body suit was nylon, and I put my hands on either side of its plunging neckline. As I bunched the fabric into my fists, I ferociously pulled the flimsy fabric apart. Ginger let out an orgasmic gasp as the nylon turned to shreds. I pulled the remnants of the bodysuit off her creamy skin, which smelled faintly of flowers, and let it fall to the floor. Kayla looked on, her wired eyes also flashing lust, and she stuffed three fingers up her cunt.

“Look at that,” Kayla said, holding up her hand, which was flooded with her arousal. “This is what coke does to me. Every single fucking time.”

“God, you know I can’t resist that, you slut,” Ginger said, and she pulled Kayla toward us, inhaling her fingers to lick them clean.

I was on my knees, tossing away the bodysuit, and found myself confronted at eye level with Ginger’s pussy. She maintained a landing strip to show off that the carpet matched the drapes, and even through the bitter drip of cocaine down the back of my throat I could smell her arousal. My tongue darted out and tasted her lips. They were slick with thick syrup, and she tasted sweet.

“Fuck,” Ginger moaned, elongating the vowel dramatically.

I flicked her clit once, then twice. Her knees buckled, which I took to be more an intentional move so she could lower her butterfly-style lips to my face.

“Don’t hog him for yourself, slut,” Kayla said, taking a few steps over and brushing her leg against me on the opposite side of Ginger. Her high heels rapped loudly on the floor.

I glanced over at her, allowing Ginger to straighten her legs again, and noticed a long string of pussy juice dangling from her compact lips. I shifted over, lapping it up instead of letting it hit the floor. Kayla’s initial moan matched Ginger’s.

“It’s so fucking tempting to let you eat us,” Kayla groaned. “Jess told us you’re insatiable for it. But this is about you using us. And we are under strict instructions to edge you and please you and get the biggest possible cumshot out of you.”

“We need to blow him,” Ginger said, matter-of-factly, bobbing her pigtails from side to side. “I mean, why else is my hair like this?”

“Have you ever had two pornstars suck you off at the same time?” Kayla asked sweetly.

“Nope,” I said.

Kayla and Ginger glanced at each other, giggled, and crawled in front of me.

“Is it true you’ve really watched every scene I’ve ever filmed?” Kayla said, her hand cupping the bulge in my shorts.

“Yes,” I said, my throat suddenly dry.

“Well, then you know that Ginger and I have never given head together,” Kayla said. She slipped her hand under my waistband.

“How is that possible?” Ginger said, helping her counterpart pull down my shorts.

“Because we do more girl-girl stuff together,” Kayla said.

“We should see who he can make gag first,” Ginger suggested.

“And whoever wins?” Kayla said, her voice trailing off as her delicate hand snaked around my fully erect cock.

“You mean whoever doesn’t gag?” Ginger clarified.

“Right,” Kayla said. “The winner gets the cumshot.”

“Watch out, bitch,” Ginger snapped sarcastically, “because that cumshot is mine.”

“We’ll see,” Kayla said and buried my length in her throat like it was nothing.

I let out a groan and said, “Fuck yeah.”

Ginger, with the effortless manner of a professional, ducked underneath Kayla’s chin and sucked my balls into her mouth. It is impossible to describe how good it felt. These two were fine-tuned cocksucking machines. Once Kayla had taken a minute to deep throat me, the girls switched, and Ginger was rubbing her nose against my pubis in no time. She was gifted at taking my length, her throat offering no resistance as she swallowed me, and she demonstrated incredible breath control. She kept me buried all the way for the better part of two minutes before pulling off, letting her tongue perform a tornado-like dance around my shaft as she reveled in sucking me.

“Pull her pigtails,” Kayla told me.

She had stood up and was licking her way from my stomach to my chest. Then she put her lips against mine, and her tongue darted out, a series of movements so deeply erotic, it helped me understand just how thoroughly sexuality filled every cell in her body. When she told me to pull Ginger’s pigtails? I had no choice but to obey. Ginger squealed with delight as I face-fucked her, putting the pigtails in my fists and just using her mouth and throat like it was another pussy. I was merciless – and I had seen enough of Ginger’s work on film to know she loved it.

Despite my rough efforts, Ginger gave head like a champ. She didn’t gag. No tears streamed down her face. After five minutes, she popped up, smiled, and gave Kayla a kiss.

“Beat that, bitch,” she said with a cloying smile.

“You do give amazing head,” Kayla said with admiration.

She tweaked one of Ginger’s nipples and gave her ass a sharp slap before taking her turn on her knees again.

“I put my hair in a ponytail for a reason,” Kayla said before swallowing me again.

Ginger mirrored the path Kayla had taken earlier, licking her way up my chest, sucking my nipples, and ending with a kiss. Kayla worshiped at the altar of cock and balls, and Ginger whispered in my ear.

“So, listen, John,” she said. “I’m going to do something right now. It was a special request from Kat, and she wanted me to tell you that I’m your dirty little bitch.”

She grinned and licked my ear, then fell to her knees behind me. I reached down and took Kayla by the ponytail. I bent forward slightly and roughly fucked my favorite pornstar’s face. Then I smiled when I felt it. Ginger’s tongue probing my ass. She was a dirty little bitch. And I was in double pleasure heaven. Kayla urged me on with her moans, so I concentrated on getting my cock as deep into her throat as I could. And then it happened.

Kayla gagged.

I had just settled into a perfect trance, enjoying Ginger’s eager rim job and Kayla’s throat sucking me in like it was a vagina. But something happened – an errant breath, spit going down the wrong pipe – and she choked and pushed me back.