Chapter 12

We decamped from LA five days before the first Stages Tour concert in London. The European leg consisted of twenty-one shows in London, Paris, Madrid, Amsterdam, Milan, and Vienna. There would be three shows at each stop, and London would bookend it, getting three shows at Wembley Stadium to start and finish for a total of six nights. Because the locations were relatively close together, we would set up a full-time base about an hour from Wembley and on the southeast side of London. We would be set up in a literal castle in a posh, sleepy suburb. We needed the space, and we needed the privacy. We would be on two acres in Eltham in a thoroughly updated house and “cottage” that could fit twenty-two people.

The main house – which previously had served as a supplemental retreat for the duke of so-and-so – accommodated fourteen, which was more than enough space for the five of us, Riley and Henry, and Juliet and Melanie. All nine of us would take up residence for the duration of the tour. We had nothing better to do, and we thought it would be idyllic. We even took our two children and their two nannies, who could stay away from the debauched tour action in the cottage, which was spacious, slept eight, and was completely remote from the main house. We also had a security detail of three. That might have been overkill, but we were mindful to take precautions anytime we were outside the comfort of our little Hollywood Hills compound.

After we spent a couple days relaxing and getting over jetlag with sightseeing and exploring the grounds of our palatial estate, we tried to settle into a little bit of a routine. Jess worked on details with the jet and yacht, which were coming along nicely. I realized that I had been a bit impulsive with the purchases. They were major capital outlays that would require massive ongoing upkeep expenses. I didn’t regret it, but I needed to do some work on making sure these didn’t simply become vanity money pits. I didn’t need them to be profitable on their own – we were going to have too much fun with them – but there was also no need to let them become a financial albatross.

There would be time to think about all that in greater detail. And I would. I’d also find a way to make it work to our advantage. But, at the moment, I was too distracted. A few minutes earlier, while I wrapped up a video call with Jason, I got a text from Juliet. She was supposed to be with my wives in the recording studio at the castle. In the 70s, the Rolling Stones had brought a mobile studio and recorded an album – one of the more forgettable of the deep drug days – there and just left it behind. It became a permanent fixture, and Riley was psyched to have someplace to test out new tracks. But Katie also had decided to take the leap, given the equipment’s convenience, to record a couple demos of the songs she had written.

“Need to talk ASAP!” Juliet had written.

“Where?” I asked.

“Secret passage,” she replied. “Two minutes.”

The castle, in addition to the two acres, recording studio, movie theater, kitchen that could easily handle banquet preparation, and every amenity you could think of, including a full-size sauna, also had a secret passage. Apparently, it had been cordoned off in the nineteenth century to allow servants to move around parts of the first floor without being seen. Once we discovered it, the obvious thing to us was to use it to sneak off for quickies. In the few days we had been there, hooking up in the secret passage had become a favorite pastime.

The entry was located off the far side of the kitchen, behind what looked like an innocent wall panel next to the large walk-in pantry. But when you pressed the panel in the right spot, it led to a hidden hallway that traced all the way to the front of the house in an ambling circuit. Like the rest of the castle, the secret passage had been upgraded with modern lighting and kept clean. Maybe it was more of a secret hideaway. I thought about that as I pushed the hidden panel. It popped free from the wall, and I opened it toward me. Immediately, a delicate pair of hands pulled me inside.

“I just did a couple lines with your wives,” Juliet said, her breath hot and sweet on my neck. “And it just hit me, just like that. I want a nice fuck.”

“Well, you came to the right place,” I said with a smile.

We were about to kiss, but I sensed a brief hesitation from Juliet, like there was something lingering between us. It passed quickly, and she immediately flashed her starlet’s smile again. Her ice blue eyes had an improbable warmth to them. She ran her tongue behind her lower teeth as she looked at me, and her hands held the sides of my head. I felt her pause once more, but then she pushed forward. Our lips met, and our tongues danced. It was a familiar feeling to me now, but one that never failed to shoot a bolt of electricity through me.

I ran my hands down her rib cage, diving in a bit to cup her breasts briefly before letting them continue their tour of her body. She was slim but sturdy. Her hips flared just enough, and I took a firm grip on her pert butt, which was encased in a short pair of cutoffs. Juliet’s purple babydoll t-shirt was thin and snug, letting her braless nipples poke forward. I broke the kiss and let my lips trail down her neck, which elicited a gasp. It was one of her favorite erogenous zones.

“Just get to it,” Juliet said, her hands now fumbling with the waistband of my shorts.

During the casual, relaxing lead-up to the Stages Tour European leg, we all took to wearing athleisure clothing around the castle. It made quickies like this deliciously easy.

“If that’s what the lady wants,” I said with a chuckle.

“I want,” she said, grasping my semi-hard cock in her fist.

I unbuttoned the fly on her shorts and remarked about how a zipper would be easier.

“Yeah, but I can’t make it that easy for you,” she said with an impish grin.

I pushed the denim down her legs, and she kissed me again as she stepped out of the shorts. She stroked my cock with one hand and pressed mine against her pubic mound with the other.

“I swear your girls are making me such a coke whore,” she said.

“As if you needed to be enticed,” I teased.

She winked and guided my cock between her thigh gap. She stood on her tiptoes so she could rub the head up and down her slit. It was soaking wet.

“What got you all worked up?” I asked.

She slipped the tip of my cock in, and I instinctively pushed her up against the stone wall to keep it in place. She gave a little gasp, then answered.

“Kat wanted the Ryan dildo,” she said. “They’re going to do lines off it then fuck.”

“My sluts just can’t get enough,” I said.

“They’re insatiable,” she said. “And generous. Just like you.”

I smiled and shoved my cock inside Juliet, pinning her against the wall with most of my weight.

“Fuck yeah,” Juliet said. “That’s it. Ram me good and hard. I’ll cum just from that.”

I smothered her mouth with another kiss and used my superior height and strength to follow her instructions. Most of the time, my trysts with Juliet were pretty romantic. We liked to take our time. We preferred multiple rounds. But there was something special in the intensity that came with the urgency and neediness of this fuck.

“You’re so fucking hot,” I panted.

“Am I the most famous pussy you’ve ever fucked?” Juliet asked.

Frequently over the last several months, I had thought I wasn’t as mentally sharp as I used to be. Things were off after the accident. But I realized exactly what Juliet was doing here. She always had that little streak of insecurity underlying her celebrity. It was the nature of Hollywood, but particularly so for young and pretty actresses. She wasn’t really asking me that question. She was just asking for a bit of an ego stroke. I jumped at the opportunity.

“The most famous,” I said, looking in her eyes but not stopping my strong, driving strokes in and out of her cunt. “And the best famous pussy I’ve ever had. No question.”

Juliet whimpered, and I could feel her body getting closer to orgasm.

“Tell me again,” she said.

“You’re so fucking famous,” I said. “Even if you weren’t so gorgeous, your fame would make my cock hard.”

“Yes!” she moaned.

“Do you ever think of how many millions of men jerk off to you because you’re so famous and hot?” I added.

“Oh, fuck, John...” Juliet said. She was getting close now.

“All the times some guy begs off having sex with his wife because he’s been stroking it to you, Juliet,” I said.

Her knees almost buckled. She clung to me for dear life as her body shook, and she tried to barely muffle her cries of climax. Her pussy pulsed, milking my cock, and I had been on the brink anyway. My own dirty talk had gotten me off, thinking about the illustrious position I was in, inside the most famous actress on the planet.

“Oh, god! Oh! Fuck me! Fuck me!” Juliet cried out.

“I’m cumming!” I responded hoarsely.

“Fuck yeah! Fuck! God, I love when you nut in me,” she said, panting now.

We crumpled into one another and kissed again, still with urgency. Juliet ran her hands down my cheeks, then slowed our kiss down into small little pecks on the lips.

“You,” she said softly. “You always give it to me exactly how I need it.”

“Flatterer,” I said, looking around for my shorts.

Juliet and I uncoupled. I noticed how hard her nipples were. Her thighs were sticky, my cum flowing like a river down her legs. She found her shorts and pulled them back on.

“Rita is going to be jealous when she sees this,” she said with a laugh.

“Or hungry,” I said.

“Let’s go find out,” Juliet said and pulled me out of the secret passageway by the hand.

The girls, minus Katie and Riley, were hanging out in one of the many opulent living spaces on the first floor. This one was awash in fine art on the walls, sumptuous couches and settees, and finely woven Oriental rugs.

“Okay, let’s try this,” I heard Jess’s voice rising into the tall ceiling when Juliet and I walked into the cavernous room. Her voice echoed around the stone walls.

“That’s so much coke,” Rita said.

“A dick that big requires a lot of coke,” Kat said.

“In more ways than one,” Jess said with a laugh. “Okay, come on, babes.”

As we approached, I saw what was going down. The girls were on the floor. Jess sat between Kat and Rita, holding the dildo that had been made from a mold of Ryan’s cock. I still couldn’t get over how massive it was. Down the middle of the toy lay a long, thick line of cocaine. Kat was on her knees next to Jess, to her right. Rita was on her left, but facing Jess. Kat and Rita each fingered a glass straw. They were on opposite sides and ends of the dildo. I knew what was coming next.

“Ready?” Jess said. My wives nodded. “Go!”

Kat and Rita put the straws in their noses and lowered them, vacuuming up the coke at an Olympic pace. Halfway through, they switched to the other nostril and polished it off. It couldn’t have taken more than six seconds. I felt Juliet’s hand crawl over the crotch of my shorts. She could feel me get hard as I watched.

“Holy. Fuck!” Rita said.

“Rita,” Kat said, her eyes wired, “that was insane. That was so fucking cool.”

“We’ve got to do this,” Rita said. “Ryan will flip.”

They laughed.

“Daddy!” Kat said, popping up when she noticed me and running over to give me a kiss. Her nipple piercings dug into my chest. All three girls were nude.

“I see you girls are up to something,” I said playfully.

“Ryan just confirmed he’ll come out for the after-party at the end of the first string of London shows,” Jess chimed in.

“Kitty Kat wants to do the DP,” Rita said, her eyes twinkling.

She got up and walked over to me slowly, allowing me to savor her nakedness. Her breasts bounced invitingly, with the same poise that she had when she moved. Her thigh gap was irresistible in drawing my gaze to her pubic mound. Kat stepped aside, allowing Rita to bring her soft lips against mine. Her tongue flicked into my mouth, and I could taste the bitter cocaine.

“You look good enough to eat,” I whispered to her.

“Did you cum in Juliet?” she asked, and I could see the sexual monster taking over her face.

“Of course,” I said, and she bit my lower lip lightly in response.

“I may need a snack,” Rita said, looking at Juliet.

“I love your tongue, so help yourself,” Juliet said with a laugh.

“Do you want to bump up first?” Rita asked.

“That would be awesome,” she said.

They walked over to Jess and the cocaine-covered mirror on the coffee table. It was funny to see antique furniture covered with our indulgences.

“I love you, daddy,” Kat said, slipping her hand in mine. “I’m so horny right now.”

“Thinking about Ryan?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

“I can’t lie, daddy,” she said, “It turns me on so much.”

“You know that what turns you on, turns me on,” I said.

“I know, daddy,” she said, kissing me now.

I glanced up and saw Juliet take a bump of coke off her fingernail as Rita got on her knees. She slid down Juilet’s shorts and let her mouth disappear between her legs.

“I really need you to be there when it happens, though,” Kat added. “I don’t like playing like that without you there.”

“Let’s make it special then, okay?” I said. “I don’t like missing it either. It gets me off seeing you get so turned on.”

We kissed some more, and Jess walked over to join us while Rita and Juliet moved onto a couch as Rita’s cleanup efforts continued.

“We could check out what’s going on at the recording studio,” Jess said and gave me a kiss.

“Are they still at it?” I asked.

“I think so,” Jess said.

Katie, Riley, and Henry had been in there playing around with some songs since they woke up early that morning. The few days before the tour restarted had been productive for them. Riley was working on a new album. Henry was toying with the idea, but he was also spending more and more time finding angles of getting into movies. He wanted to line up something when the tour finished at the end of the year. But Riley, as was her usual pattern, liked to record while out on the road. She had so many ideas flowing through her head, and she always put them down on paper, that recording was probably her favorite recreational activity. When she wasn’t around our group.

Katie, however, still had some reticence about stepping out from being a supporting piece to being the center of attention. She loved music. She loved singing. There was no doubt of that. But doing it “for real,” as she liked to say, gave her some anxiety. Riley was trying to shake her out of that mindset. She was supportive and encouraging. She was a real friend. And she had suggested that Katie record a couple demos just to see how she felt about hearing her voice on tape.

The recording studio, maybe unsurprisingly, was in the basement of the castle. It was fairly cramped, but its history made it awe-inspiring. After the Stones had left the unit there, it was incorporated into a new room, which was soundproofed. Depeche Mode had recorded here in the 80s, then The Verve in the 90s. Beady Eye even laid down a few tracks after Oasis split up. Maybe it wasn’t a marquee studio, but it had legitimate history – history that would grow exponentially if Riley released something she did here.

Kat, Jess, and I opened the glass door and found Katie, Riley, and Henry sitting in a semicircle in the outer room, where the soundboard was. There were two couches and a couple armchairs, with a rectangular coffee table between them. There was a pile of coke and residue on the table, along with bottles of water, notebooks, pens, and crumpled pieces of paper. Henry sat in an armchair at the far head of the coffee table, an acoustic guitar resting on his lap. Katie and Riley sat opposite each other on different couches. Riley scribbled notes, while Katie apparently had just finished hitting a line and was waiting for the rush to hit her. Her head was back. She stared up at the ceiling, and she absently rubbed a finger along her upper gums. But she spotted us first.

“Daddy!” Katie said and stood up. She kissed me first before giving the same greeting to Kat and Jess.

“Looks like you’re all hard at work here,” I said.

Riley put down her notebook, and Henry idly strummed the guitar.

“This has been super productive,” Riley said, speaking fast enough to betray that she hadn’t been a stranger to the white powder on the coffee table.

“Your girl may have a hit, John,” Henry said. “We should play it.”

“Really?” Kat asked.

“Seriously?” Jess chimed in. “We want to hear it!”

“Wow, you got something laid down already?” I said.

“It’s rough,” Katie said. “I don’t think it’s very good.”

“You have to let them listen, girl,” Riley said. “They’re your family. They’ll be honest with you.”

“I’ll cue it up,” Henry said, standing the guitar up on a stand that sat on the floor next to him. “Let’s give it a go.”

He had responded so quickly and swung into action, approaching the soundboard, that it didn’t give Katie a chance to object.

“I’m so nervous, though!” she whispered to us.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about!” Kat said, then led Katie and Jess to the couch.

I sat down in the armchair opposite Henry’s prior position and looked at Riley. She smiled. Her eyes were bleary. It was clear they had been working hard. And, as I would come to learn, working hard in the recording studio always came with partying hard. You couldn’t record an album without something to propel you through the long hours that spanned fits of inspiration.

“It’s legit,” Riley said, nodding to me.

“Here we go,” Henry said.

Everyone quieted down. There wasn’t a single sound in the studio. Anticipation hung in the air. Henry moved his right hand, which turned out to be raising the volume on the output. A few bars from a piano, presumably the one on the other side of the glass, played. And then came Katie’s voice. The vocal coach had pegged her as a mezzo soprano, and from the very first notes, the lyrics came through with both richness and power beneath an upbeat facade.

He told me nothing rhymes with orange He said it had to be his way That it was the only road to happiness He held me down like a cloud

I was drowning on the ground Walking free but actually bound There was something missing But I was blind

It was all nothing but lies But I was under that spell I couldn’t walk away It was a gateway to hell

I was drowning on the ground Walking free but actually bound There was something missing But I was blind

I walked into quicksand all alone He wouldn’t help me get out He just pulled me down with a laugh He said it had to be his way

I was drowning on the ground Walking free but actually bound There was something missing Until I wasn’t blind

I turned around And there was you Easy smile and eyes of blue All that heaviness wiped away Just like that began a new day

We got together, and we grew That’s how it all changed; it all changed Because after despair I finally knew Something rhymes with orange And it’s you

Katie stared at the ground the entire time the song played. It started melodic and melancholy, paralleling the lyrics. It built into something more harmonious – even with only the piano for background. By the end, it felt positively anthemic. I tried to imagine it with full instrumental backing. It was hard, though, because I was overcome by emotion hearing it. I felt an immediate connection with the song.

When the tape ended, Katie looked up at me. Tears had flowed down her cheeks, but she still had a look of embarrassment on her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and she only held the eye contact for a moment before looking back at the floor. In that instant, I knew what she had written about, and I could barely hold back as my eyes moistened.

“Is that a fucking solid gold anthem or what?” Riley said. “I swear to god, Katie, you are such a natural. There is so much emotion in your voice!”

“Thank you,” Katie said in a whisper, wiping her eyes and trying to pull herself together.

“It’s legit,” Henry said. “It tells a story. It’s impactful. Easy choice for a first single on a debut album.”

“You’re just being nice,” Katie said.

She had regained some composure and looked at me while she spoke. She didn’t have to say it out loud. She wanted my reaction.

“Katie,” I said, “it’s beautiful. It is emotional. And sweet. I ... I think I get what you were going for, and I just want to say that I love you.”

“I love you, daddy,” she said, a smile breaking on her face. It was like all the tension in the room had been wiped away.

I walked across the studio and bent down to kiss her.

“I call it Jay See,” she whispered.

“J.C.?” I said.

“No, J-A-Y S-E-E,” she said. “But, yes, really J.C., if you get it.”

“I get it,” I said. “I love it. And I’m flattered.”

“I owe everything to you, daddy,” she said and kissed me again. “That’s why it is and forever will be anything you want. I will never tell you no. I’ll always be a good girl for you.”

“You always have been, darling,” I said.

I had never loved Katie more. I was proud of her. She was growing so much and maximizing her talent. The shell of that shy girl, the quiet sex pot, was shedding more every day. And this was the biggest step yet.

“So, we have to celebrate,” Riley said. “Henry and I have a tradition. Every time a new track gets laid down, and we think it’s in good shape? We do a line. I feel like this warrants that!”

“Please,” Katie said, letting out a sigh of relief. “I need some coke.”

“It really is an absolute banger, Katie,” Henry said.

Riley was already chopping out lines on the table, and she pushed a straw toward Katie.

“Do it, girl,” she told her. “You earned this. To the start of an amazing journey.”

We sniffed the lines, and Riley offered to play a full demo of a new song she had finished the day before. Of course we told her to put it on, and the studio filled with a rollicking, upbeat pop anthem. This was a song that dug deep to her roots, the big pop songs that turned her into a superstar. It was incredible. And it was impossible not to dance when you heard it. While we did, Katie and I moved close to one another. When the four-minute song faded out, my wife pulled me hard against her body. She wore an obscenely tight and short pair of workout shorts that dug deep into her ass, along with a light blue tank top without a bra that showed off her side boob.

“I need you inside me, daddy,” she said.

Riley, who was watching us, got the hint.

“Babe, why don’t we grab a shower?” she suggested to Henry. “I could stand to freshen up.”

“I could stand to bend you over that bench in the shower,” Henry said.

“Bring some of the blow,” Riley said. “It’s my last day before I have to rest up for the first show.”

“Let’s party, baby,” Henry said.

And in moments, Katie and I had the studio to ourselves. The light was subdued, and it made Katie look young and innocent. She was biting her lower lip and staring up at me. Her hard nipples betrayed her feelings, and she had that insatiable look in her eyes.

“Did you really like it, daddy?” she asked, her voice quiet and full of doubt.

“I absolutely fucking loved it,” I said. “I can’t remember any song ever having such an emotional impact on me. I totally got it. I think it’s beautiful. And you know it’s not just me. Riley isn’t going to bullshit you. Neither is Henry.”

“Yeah, but,” she tried to protest.

“No, Katie,” I said. “You are a real talent. This is your dream. This is your time. You’ve earned this, and I couldn’t be more impressed. I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass.”

“You can do anything you want with my ass,” she said and smiled, her doubts finally receding from the forefront of her thoughts.

“Might blow some coke up it, though,” I said with a chuckle.

And we kissed. And kissed. We slowly descended to one of the longer couches, our lips never separating. I pulled down her shorts and smelled the slightly musky scent of her pussy as I brought her onto my lap. Her soft, warm thighs felt good against mine. Heat radiated from between her legs. Our lips broke briefly so I could pull up her shirt, and then I sucked one of her tits into my mouth. She gasped.

“You are perfect, Katie,” I said. “I’m so proud of you. And so turned on by you.”

“Daddy, I need this so badly right now,” she said. “I feel safest when you’re inside me.”

“Then climb on, sweetheart,” I said, lifting us both up as I pushed down my shorts.

It didn’t even occur to me that I neither felt a jolt of pain or had a second thought about having the strength to lift her up with just my hips. That was my surest sign of recovery yet. I intentionally wanted Katie on top for this fuck. I wanted her to feel empowered. I wanted her to be in control. I was on a mission to make sure she knew how important and powerful she was.

She grabbed my cock and didn’t rest on any ceremony. She shoved it inside her tight vaginal canal, and we both gasped.

“You’re so fucking tight,” I growled.

“God, you fill me up the best,” she said.

From there, it was off to the races. I gripped her ass firmly, my fingers digging into her cheeks. She rode me with purpose. Her hips flew back and forth quickly, and she occasionally sprinkled in times where she bounced up and down, letting my cock almost completely slip out of her.

“Daddy! God, daddy! Make me cum!” she cried.

I let one hand dig into her ass crack, probing her dark hole. I sucked on her nipples and bit down on them, eliciting ecstatic screams from her. I started to buck my hips up, driving more deeply into her, feeling her squishy cervix against the tip of my cock. The deep strokes pushed her over the edge, and it was a good thing the studio was soundproof because she would have caused a ruckus throughout the castle by how manically she came. But I refused to let her even slow down once she orgasmed. I kept pushing hard, and she came again. She gathered her tits and pushed them in my face. She begged me to fill her up.

“I’m such a slut for you, daddy!” she moaned. “I’m your good girl, aren’t I? I’m good to you, daddy, don’t you think?”

“The best, Katie,” I said.

She focused on me next. The long, wet strokes coupled with her incomparably tight pussy made it easy to let myself go, even if I had inseminated Juliet only a short time ago.

“I’m gonna cum,” I told her.

“Do it, daddy,” she said. “Show me what a good girl I am!”

And I pushed my hips up a few more times before unloading a handful of spurts inside her. She kissed me zealously as she felt my sperm invade her.

“That’s it,” she said, panting. “That’s what I need. That’s all I need.”

“Fuck,” I said, brushing sweat off my brow. “You are so hot, Katie. I fucking love you.”

She collapsed against me, and I held her. I listened to the both of us breathe until we regulated and returned to a normal pace. After a while, Katie slid off the couch and stood up. She picked up a mirror with some coke on it.

“Let’s go see the others,” she said. “Let’s party and play them the song. I want to hear what they think.”

She bent down and took a long snort of coke from the pile. She whipped her thick hair around and grinned at me, and I held the door open for her so we could walk out of the studio. She stopped abruptly in the hallway.

“Can I tell you something, daddy?” she said. “Like a secret?”

“Of course, Katie,” I said.

“I feel really good about that song,” she said. “I’m proud of it. And it makes me feel even better that you got it. You know it’s about you, right? You saved me. You’re my whole world. I know I’ve said that before, but I feel like putting those words down on paper and singing them – I’m singing them to you – it makes it finally feel like I can thank you properly.”

Her words spewed out quickly, but the cocaine couldn’t mask the sincerity of what she said. My heart felt so full hearing her open up like this. It was a rare event. She tended to show her happiness and gratitude through the physical.

“It is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard, Katie,” I said. “I mean that.”

“There’s something else,” she said, and we started walking back to the main part of the house to rejoin the girls.

“Okay,” I said.

“I’m excited for the others to hear it,” she said. “I’m not scared or embarrassed. Maybe I’m a little nervous. But I feel like I’ve found what I’m supposed to do in life. Be a part of this family and be a singer.”