The New Orleans Hothouse – Excerpt

Lee Rene is the nom de plume of a Los Angeles based writer who worked for years as an entertainment journalist and movie reviewer in print, on-line and radio. She is a student of American history and cinema with an interest in silent movies, Pre-Code Hollywood, and classic films. She co-authored a biography of Sarah Bernhardt, The Diva and Doctor God, and also co-wrote two articles published by The Lancet and a well-received article for the prestigious British publication, History Today. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Society for Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, (SCBWI) and the International Press Academy.

Lee’s interest in Pre-code Hollywood and the contributions of Jews to American culture propelled her to write an unpublished New Adult manuscript with a beautiful Jewish protagonist and powerful Jewish love interest. Her erotic romance, The New Orleans Hothouse, details the erotic adventures of its Jewish protagonist, Danny Rothstein, and a beauty he meets in New Orleans in the button-down 1950s. Lee creates Jewish protagonists and anti-heroes who defy the usual neurotic nebbish stereotypes. The following is an excerpt from Lee’s erotic romance.

I strolled over to the curtain, parted it, and walked into a labyrinth of dark corners and empty rooms. The freaks had deserted the place, and except for a dribble of what looked like cum on the floor, no one would know about the strange happenings. Silence shrouded the place. No moaning or groaning, grunts or screams. No poor sap going through the motions of having sex with his drunken girlfriend on a stained mattress. Otis had painted over the squalor and mopped the floors, leaving them pristine and devoid of semen except for that one spot. I looked down at my wristwatch with a sigh. It would be another fifteen minutes before I met with him.

I stumbled through the dim light. Someone had lit votives to illuminate my way, a polite gesture wasted on me. When I finally reached the darkest part of the club, past the last room, I saw a glass-fronted booth illuminated by a single lightbulb. A young woman perched inside. My mysterious date. I couldn’t make her out very well since a mane of glossy black hair obscured her face. When I moved closer, my heart lurched and my head began pounding like a base drum. Yvette sat alone behind the glass.

I hadn’t been wrong about her beauty. Even in the booth’s harsh light, she looked as stunning as she had in her skimpy outfit at the Mason-Dixon Line. Now I could really see her, and she more than passed muster, a voluptuous girl of about nineteen with flawless skin. Yvette sat on a red pillow like a beautiful spider in a glass nest, ready to ensnare some poor sap into her web. Instead of wearing a cheap cocktail dress like the women in the bar, she’d covered her curves with a crimson silk kimono tied at the waist.

What she was doing in a dump like the Lucky 13 mystified me, but my stiffening cock told me the reason didn’t matter. I found myself standing in front of her.

She looked up, and we stared at each other for at least a half a minute. Her eyes suddenly flashed, and I knew she hadn’t forgotten the matter of me putting my hand down her dress. A few more bucks should handle it.

“Hey, beautiful, I’m stuck in this shithole with time to kill. The bartender said folks in New Orleans do their best for guests and you’d show me something good. What you going to do for me?”

Yvette didn’t say a word, just stared back at me for a long moment. She finally spoke in deep and smoky tones, possibly from one too many cigarettes, but maybe not. Her teeth were pearly white, her hands free from nicotine stains.

“I could do a lot for a pretty boy like you. I bet your dick is as beautiful as the rest of you. Unzip, Daddy, and show me what you got.”

What the hell? Who did she think she was? I thought hookers were supposed to be polite. When her beautiful mouth widened into an insolent grin, I felt my temper rise.

“Pull out my cock? You want me to beat my meat? Screw you. On the worst day of my life, I could do better than you.”

Yvette sat back in her cushion. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you aren’t very polite, especially when a girl is just trying to be friendly. But I’ll forgive you. You look upset. Poor baby, let me make you feel better. C’mon. Don’t be a chicken. Show me your dick.”

“Fuck you, bitch.”

Yvette opened her robe just as I turned away. “Hey, pretty man. Look at this.” She pulled back the crimson silk, slowly parted her legs, and exposed the treasure her creamy thighs concealed: a beautiful rose-colored pussy surrounded by a ring of black hair. I usually went for chilly shiksas like Inez, but Yvette’s earthy brazenness excited me. My rod stiffened and pointed at her. My arousal would have been obvious to a blind man.

Her voice teased me. “Daddy, are you still mad at me?”

I couldn’t pull myself away. “No.”

Yvette gave me an earthy cackle. “You were mad. Those eyes of yours flashed like you were going to explode.” She gave a toss of her head and smirked. “I’m ready to play, and from what’s poking out of your trousers, so are you. Come on, baby. Don’t be afraid. Show Mama what you’ve got.”

She licked her full lips when I unbuckled my belt, but before I could unzip my fly, a crimson curtain descended, and she disappeared from view. I yelped in frustration, dug in my pocket for one of the coins, and dropped it into the slot. The drape ascended. Yvette sat back on her pillow, grinning.

“Well, hey, Daddy, you still here? Guess you didn’t find something better, did you?”

Yvette put a finger to her mouth, parted her full lips, and gave it a slow, sensuous lick. She moved her hand southward, toward another pair of lips. I couldn’t contain myself and unfastened my trousers. They fell around my hips along with my shorts. I grabbed my cock and stroked the shaft. Yvette stared at it for a long moment.

“Well, Daddy, you got a pretty one, all big and pink. I like it, sugar.”

Big dicks ran in my family. “Yeah, that’s what they say about us Rothsteins. Big dicks, big wallets.”

“And I bet you love showing both off to all the young ladies. Don’t you, handsome?”

Her grin widened as she slid her moistened finger in a circle around her pussy lips and undulated her hips, the movements slow and deliberate, her voice growling a low moan.

“Daddy, play with that bad boy for me, but do it slow. I like it slow. Real slow.”

I groaned and moved my hips in rhythm with hers as if I was inside her.

Yvette sucked on her lower lip. A moan of pleasure escaped. “Work it, Daddy. I love to see a man play with himself, especially when his dick is pretty like yours is.”

Without warning, the curtain dropped once again.

I let out another yelp, plopped another golden coin in the slot, and the curtain rose once again. This time I almost came when I saw her. Yvette had rid herself of the negligee and sat in all her nude glory. Even in the savage light, her skin looked like satin, her round breasts perfection, and her thighs creamy and touchable. When she spread her legs even wider, I saw her vulva shiny with moisture. Yvette rubbed the lips of her cunt with her forefinger, and I feared I’d pop my cork right there.

“Daddy, you’re back. Look, I got myself juiced up just thinking about you. I never get to see pretty fellows like you.”

She gazed at my cock, a lewd grin on her lovely face. “How’d you like to feel that big thing of yours between my titties? Oh Daddy, what I could do with it if you were in here with me.”

Yvette moved closer to the glass and lifted one of her perfect tits, plump and round, with nipples as delicate as the petal of a rose. The breast looked as sweet as a glob of whipped cream. She kissed it, and I felt my cock surge.

“I bet you wish you were playing with this.” She lifted the other. “Or these. If you were, I’d rub that perfect dick of yours between my breasts. Ever titty-fucked a girl, Daddy?”

She didn’t stop staring at my cock and continued fingering her pussy until I heard the soft slush of a juiced-up cunt, the sound of female arousal. Yvette’s head fell back, and her lips stretched in a lazy grin.

“You know something, baby? I’d love to put that pretty thing of yours in my mouth, lick it like a big ole lollipop, and suck on it real hard. I bet you smell good down there, all sweet with cologne. You could come in my mouth, Daddy. I’d swallow up your boy juice like the nectar of the gods. You taste good, don’t you?”

No woman had ever waxed poetic about the taste of cum before. I’d never thought of Frenching as anything but a prelude to intercourse, and I’d never let loose in a girl’s mouth. Apparently, she liked sucking cock. I wanted to give her the opportunity to enjoy mine.

“Nobody in New Orleans sucks a dick like me. You got me wet just thinking about it.”

Yvette closed her eyes as she continued stroking her pussy lips. She didn’t push her fingers farther. They just continued circling her honeypot, her touch gentle. “I’m hot, Daddy.” She opened those big blue orbs of hers. “Play with that big boy for Mama. Pretend you’re inside me.” Yvette arched her back, opened her thighs even wider, tilting her pelvis in my direction, undulating all the while. Even though the glass booth encased her, I swore I smelled her essence, sweet like a ripe peach.

“Oh Daddy, oh Daddy. Play with that thing. Lord, I want to play with that big pretty dick.”

Holding back from coming was torturous, but I had to prolong our encounter.

“Yvette, I have to fuck you. Let me in there with you, please. Please! I can’t take it much longer.”

She didn’t speak, just moaned through lips painted hot fuchsia. She lay back and offered me an even deeper peek at her pink sex before the unthinkable happened.

The curtain came down on my overpowering hunger. I dropped in another coin.

The curtain went up once more. “Oh Daddy, you’re still here? I thought you’d come by now. Most men would have. You’re ready to blow your cork, aren’t you? Well, you can, but I need another coin.”

The curtain went down once again. I dropped in another coin, and the curtain ascended.

“Please, Yvette. Stop doing that. I want to look at you!”

Yvette moaned and closed her eyes. She breathed heavily; her voluptuous breasts heaved up and down. I heard her groan, low and carnal, a dark mixture of pleasure and pain. This wasn’t an act. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. Finally, she opened her beautiful eyes. “I want to look at you too, Daddy. Come closer. You look like you’re ready, and so am I.”

I pounded on the glass with my left hand. Thankfully, someone had wiped it free of semen. My frustration got the better of me. “Let me in there, bitch!”

Yvette gave me a nasty scowl. “Oh dear. You called me a bitch again. You won’t get nowhere being mean to me, pretty man. Say you’re sorry.”

Her words shocked me. The girl was just a whore, yet she’d made me helpless.

Her voice darkened. “I said, say you’re sorry!”

I felt myself tearing up with frustration. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Yvette moved closer to the glass. “Now say, ‘I’m sorry for putting my hand down the front of your dress, Mama.’”

I felt like a baby saying it, but I knew I had to. “I’m sorry for putting my hand down the front of your dress, Mama.”

“Apology accepted, Daddy. You’re a good boy.”

She let the curtain down once more. My hand shook as I dropped in another coin. The delicious torture continued for another two minutes, up, down, down, up. Finally, I had only one more of the shiny eagles left, my ticket to release.

Yvette smiled sweetly, as if ready to end my torment. She slid her body closer, placed her free hand on the glass, and whispered seductively, “Are you ready? Come on, try harder for Mama.”

I couldn’t hold on any longer and released an ocean of spunk. Yvette’s body shuddered, and I swear I saw her cunt vibrate. She gave a moan of pleasure, removed her finger from her crotch, and sat back in her cushion, tears running from her beautiful eyes.

“Thank you, Daddy. I came too. It never happened before. Good-bye, darling.”

With that, the curtain dropped. I wiped my blast of cum away with my handkerchief and let the sodden cloth flutter to the floor. My hands shook so much I could barely pull up my trousers and zip them, but somehow I managed. I staggered back into bar.

Never in my life had a girl left me so unsteady. I’d have another encounter with Yvette after I finished my business with the big man, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be outside a glass booth.