The Big Easy — K.D. West

"A real steamy read for those of you who like your sex hot and heavy!"--Mistress Ivey

In a beautiful city, take one part heartsick man, add one part gorgeous young woman and seven parts cayenne-hot sex. Mix together and you've got the gumbo that is...

The Big Easy

A tale of sexual serendipity.

(M/F strangers erotic romance. Fellatio, cunnilingus, sixty-nine, anal, boob job)

Part of the Erotic Tales: Letters to Allison series by K. D. West:

1. Thing of Beauty
2. Bridget: Virgin Knot
3. Cindy (Coming Soon!)
4. The Big Easy
5. Veronica
6. Meredith (Coming Soon!)
7. Alison (Coming Soon!)

Extract

It was just a random Saturday night in March -- Mardi Gras was weeks past -- but it might as well have been New Year's Eve on Times Square. I think it was Italian-American Night, or some such excuse for throwing a party. Bourbon Street was throbbing with action. We grabbed Hurricanes from a street vendor and wandered through the crowd. A parade rolled noisily by, and one of the Italian-American partiers -- if I remember correctly he was black -- tossed Rachel a string of plastic beads. I placed the necklace around her neck. She smiled, and we wandered on through the wild night.

We visited a couple of blues clubs, had another drink or three, caught “The Saints Come Marching In” at the Preservation Hall, and ended up around one in the morning at the French Market, drinking chicory coffee and eating beignets.

It was a fabulous night, but as it wore on Rachel was talking more and more and I was talking less and less. I had had my hand figuratively slapped by Cynthia, my one-time squeeze, so hard that I was totally incapable of reaching out to this beautiful young woman who was clearly doing her best literally to charm my pants off.

I don't know what we were talking about -- or rather, what she was talking about -- but I remember thinking, I should just kiss you and stop you talking. And dying because, for no good reason, I couldn't get myself to do it.

At just that moment, a young guy at the table next door tossed the powdered sugar they provide for the beignets onto my shirt. I looked at Rachel; her mouth was rounded in a perfect O of surprise. Without even thinking I grabbed the sugar shaker on our table and fired a salvo at our neighbor. For a couple of minutes, confectioners sugar flew like a blizzard of snow.

As I walked Rachel back to her hotel, we were both giddy with amusement and desire. She brushed the remains of the sugar off of my shirt and then linked her arm in mine.

When we got to her room, I started to sweat. I wanted her desperately but I couldn't make my tongue or my hands work. “I can't ask you in,” she said. “My roommate is probably sleeping.” She leaned back against her door and became very serious and very quiet for the first time all night. “Do you want some company tonight?”

I willed my thick tongue to speak. “Yes,” I said, “yes, I do want that.”