Lydia in Louisville

Chastity Veldt

Description

Welcome to Lustville…

Standup comic Jake Nilsen is in Louisville as a comedy club headliner. He's not looking for any excitement, but that doesn't mean it's not looking for him.

Lydia Reilly is an artist and gallery owner and her fiery red hair and come hither smile catch a lot more than just Jake's eye. He's always had a thing for redheads, and this one has something for him, too.

Sujets

• Adulte
• BD Erotique
• Romance érotique
• contemporary
• Erotica
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
• Date de parution: 01 octobre 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781644501313
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Lydia in Lo uisville
Copyright © 2020 Chastity Veldt. All rights r eserved.


4 Horsemen Publicatio ns, Inc.
1497 Main St. S uite 169
Dunedin, FL 34698
4horsemenpublicat ions.com
info@4horsemenpublicat ions.com
Cover & Typesetting by Battle Goddess Pro ductions
All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain per mission.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used ficti tiously.
Print ISBN: 978-1-644 50-130-6
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-644 50-131-3


Chapter 1
J ake put a Bluetooth earbud into his ear and punched the screen of his mobile phone. “Call Bianca,” he said out loud.
“Hey, big boy. What’s up?” said Bianca Garrett, a barista at Cool Beans coffee shop in Indianapolis. She and Jake had spent a steamy night together last week while he was in the Circle City. 1 It was Tuesday afternoon, and he was driving down I-65 toward Louisville, hoping to make it by 4:00 so he could get dinner with a friend. He had just finished up a run at Cracker’s Comedy Club in Indianapolis then spent two more days with a yoga instructor, Irene, whom he had met and bedded at Bianca ’s urging.
“I kept meaning to ask you, but I always forgot: What color are your eyes? Are they really th at green?”
“Absolutely,” said Bianca. “My mom had gr een eyes.”
“Well, they’re gorgeous. I sort of wondered if they were contacts.”
“I get that a lot, but I promise they’re real. Just like my tits,” she added.
There was an awkward pause and Jake froze up, wondering how he should respond to that. Before he could say anything, Bianca asked, “So where are you now?”
“Heading to Louisville. I’m headlining at Peanut’s Comedy Club for fou r nights.”
Jake Nielsen was on a standup comic tour through the Midwest and Southeast in his pickup. At 6’2”, with light blond hair, and gold wire-frame glasses, people often said he looked like Tony, the first terrorist killed in Die Hard. He had been a swimmer at the University of Minnesota, and still maintained his swimmer’s build thanks to his fitness obsession.
“Where are you?” J ake asked.
“Taking a break in the office. Gerald is working o ut front.”
“Cool, cool,” said Jake, still unsure of wh at to say.
“So what are you wearing?” Bianca asked in a sul try voice.
“Uhh, jeans and a University of Minnesota sw eatshirt.”
“Do you know what I’m wearing?”
“I would guess jeans, shirt, and your baris ta apron.”
“Jesus, dude, you suck at this,” laugh ed Bianca.
“What? That’s not a go od guess?”
“Well, it’s right, but I’m trying to have phone sex with you.”
“Ohhhhhhh. So how does t hat work?”
“Well, I talk dirty about what I’m doing to myself so you get turned on then y ou talk—.”
“No, I mean, I know how phone sex works. I just thought—I don’t know, I should be lying in bed or something, not going eighty down the in terstate.”
Jake could hear the smile in her voice. “Why? What would you be doing if you were in bed?” Bia nca asked.
He hesitated. As long as Jake could remember, he’d been very inventive, vigorous, and even thoroughly descriptive when it came to actually having sex. On the other hand, he hated talking about it outside of the actual act, usually stammering and turning red before trying to change the subject to something less awkward, like the time he walked in on his Grandma while she w as peeing.
“Um, you know. Just, uh, just holding. . . myself.”
“Oh. Just holding. . . yourself?”
“Fine. My dick. I’d be holding my dick.”
“Okay, and what would you be doing with it?”
Oh, God, this is embarrassing , thought Jake. Fucking conservative Minnesota upbringing. He cleared his throat and continued. “Stroking it, thinking of you sucking on it, sliding your lips up and down the shaft and leaving it nice and wet.”
“Ooh, that’s nice. I do love sucking on a hard, thick—okay, I’ll be rig ht there.”
“What?”
“Sorry, Gerald just said we’re getting slammed. Do you want to try this aga in later?”
“Sure, just maybe when I can actually use my hands for something other than driving.”
“By the way, here’s something for you to think about until then. Remember Lena, our server at that sus hi place?”
Jake flashed back to his and Bianca’s first and only date. Jake had been sliding his long, thick fingers in and out of Bianca’s pussy in their booth. As he made her come, they noticed Lena hiding behind the cashier station, watching them and fingering herself. 2 He smiled at the memory, especially the part where Bianca took him into the bathroom and sucked his cock until he erupted in her mouth.
“Yeah, what a bout her?”
“I hooked up with her last night, and I’ll tell you all about it when you call me tonight.”
“Can you give me a preview?”
“Well, I went back to Wasabi’s last night and stayed for two hours, getting drunk, and flirting with her. I snuck her into the bathroom and we were kissing—goddammit, Gerald! I’ll be right there!—sorry, big boy, I’ll talk to you toni ght. Bye.”
“Well, fuck,” said Jake as the call ended. He looked down at his hard cock straining to break through his zipper. “Just a few more hour s, buddy.”

An hour later, Jake was at Peanut’s Comedy Club in downtown Louisville and had been shown to the back office. He found Sherrie, the club owner, working on her laptop, a small plate of French fries within e asy reach.
“Hi, I’m Jak e Nilsen.”
“Nielsen?”
“No , Nilsen.”
“Hi, I’m Sherrie.” She stood up and shook Jake’s hand. “We’re looking forward to having you. You’re performing one show Thursday night, two on Friday, two on Saturday, and one on Sunda y, right?”
“That’s what my agent told me,” ag reed Jake.
Sherrie offered up her plate. “Do you want a Fr ench fry?”
“No, thank you,” said Jake. “I ate on the road.”
“Well, I’ll give you the key to the club apartment. It’s down by the University of Louisville, and I can give you directions on how to get there. You’re sharing with our middle, Curtis Sanders. The opener is a local woman who’s been doing the Bourbon Trail circuit fo r a year.”
“Oh, I know Curtis. We’ve performed together a few times. He knows his shit.”