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- Herausgeber: Berlinable GmbH
- Kategorie: Erotik
- Serie: Chicago Kink
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021
Another cold and windy night in Chicago. Perfect for a second date… and more. Having shared a hot one-night stand, our two protagonists are no longer complete strangers, but there are still countless possibilities to be uncovered of where their connection can take them. After a fun night out at a comedy club, they find themselves back in her apartment, sipping on mezcal, ready to play around. With him eager to lead the way, it's a good thing she seems to be enjoying playing slut. And fuck, does she look hot with his dick in her mouth… "Chicago Kink" is a juicy BDSM trilogy written by Desmond Blume, who once again excels at setting the mood for a sexy play session and casually flaunts his BDSM know how. A must read for everyone curious or looking to experiment and try something new – with a stranger, maybe? A compelling reading experience, even for BDSM newbies.
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CHICAGO KINK
Episode 2
Comedy Club
Desmond Blume
Artcover: Velvet Susi
Copyright: BERLINABLE
Berlinable invites you to leave all your fears behind and dive into a world where sex is a tool for self-empowerment.
Our mission is to change the world - one soul at a time.
When people accept their own sexuality, they build a more tolerant society.
Words to inspire, to encourage, to transform.
Open your mind and free your deepest desires.
All rights reserved. It is not permitted to copy, distribute or otherwise publish the content of this eBook without the express permission of the publisher. Subject to changes, typographical errors and spelling errors. The plot and the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to dead or living people or public figures is not intended and are purely coincidental.
It is cold and windy, but what is new in Chicago? It takes twenty minutes to find a parking spot, but I finally nudge into a spot in front of the REI. I walk the block and a half to the iO Theater, wondering if you will be punctual like last time. I buy a ticket and make my way into the bar. The bar is scattered with people on all sides. It’s a huge island shape with baseball and hockey games perpetually playing on the televisions mounted above shelves of liquor behind the bar. It’s not the darkest of places, but there is still an air of amateur comedians mixed with hipster romance wafting around the room.
I circle the bar, don’t see you, sit down on a stool so that I can keep an eye on the entrance, and send you a text that I have arrived. A notification pops up on my phone on the bar in front of me. Two minutes and I’m there, your text explains. I order a whiskey neat just as a Wilco song starts to play. Ah, Chicago, I think. So in love with mediocre singer songwriters.
