The Side Project
Copyright© 2026 by The Side Project
Chapter 16: Kyle
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 16: Kyle - A couple of normal, if irreverent, middle class guys get the opportunity to answer the age old question: What would you do with your life if money was no object? A collaborative writing project written from multiple character perspectives.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Slow Illustrated
This Definitely IS a Nashville Party. Fuck You Miley Cyrus.
I had to get up a little bit early the next morning to go back over to my place and pack for our trip to Nashville. I had planned to pack at some point during the previous evening but we had gotten carried away with things. I had to rush a little - but was back over at Lexi’s, showered and packed - in less than 45 minutes.
Lexi had made us breakfast while I was gone so I gobbled down my plate of scrambled eggs and sausage, then we left for the airport. Lexi had gotten a response from 281 Brooke that morning - although no more questions about my sexual prowess. Brooke had wanted details about how her boyfriend had been willing to cheat, and Lexi had been happy to supply them.
“There is a certain irony in you enabling Marissa’s cheating and getting Blondie in trouble with his girl for it,” I pointed out.
“Perhaps, but there is a common denominator,” Lexi replied.
“Yeah, douchebags who treat their partners like shit.”
“You’ll understand why the amount of guilt I feel is rather limited,” Lexi said.
“Indeed, I do,” I replied.
We parked in the long-term lot and caught a shuttle bus to our departure terminal. Lexi was giving me a goofy grin as we rode.
“What?” I asked.
“We kind of suck at being rich, long term parking? We could have just parked at the terminal and paid the higher fees. Or gotten a limo or something,” she said.
I smiled. “You know, I think I’m ok with that. Sucking at being rich. I like the sound of it.”
Reed met us at an airport bar, where we found him, as expected, with a half-empty Bloody Mary already in hand.
“Hey man, doing good?” I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder. He had given us the broad strokes of his big adventure Monday.
“Yes, I was a good little boy scout and spent yesterday recovering then got a good night’s sleep,” he told us.
“Ha, a whole day without a new conquest you must be raring to go,” I said wryly.
“Indeed, I doubt the good women of Nashville will be able to resist my charms,” he said confidently.
“Well should you need assistance, I assure you Lexi has not lost her touch.” I went to explain our adventure the previous evening, leaving out the intimate details.
“You two are born troublemakers, but you are doing the Lord’s work,” Reed said. “And speaking of Lexi’s good deeds, here are your tickets.”
He handed us a pair of tickets. “First class?” I asked, glancing at the row number.
“Why not?” Reed asked. He had a point. I didn’t think Reed was going to suck at being rich.
“Cool, I’ve never flown first class,” Lexi said.
“You’ll like it, it’s a far more pleasant experience,” Reed said. “However it does not allow you any privileges getting through security and the lines can get quite long, so I’d recommend doing that now.”
“What about you?” Lexi asked.
“TSA precheck, I don’t have to wait in the long line, I’ll be along once I finish my drink,” Reed explained.
As we waited in the security line, Lexi and I agreed we were getting precheck once we got back to Houston. Reed texted us he was already through security and getting another drink. We didn’t have time for a drink by the time we got through and performed the ritual of re-packing our electronics, so we just met him at the gate.
We did all order glasses of red Burgundy, which I was surprised the airline had available, once we had been seated in the comfortable first class chairs.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a drink on a plane before,” Lexi said. “It’s so expensive normally.”
“Well I’m sure these tickets weren’t cheap, but that’s a Reed problem,” I said.
“It’s cool. To the first of many new experiences,” Lexi proposed, raising her glass. I toasted her and we took big sips.
“No prospects for Reed though, I don’t think,” I said, glancing at the other passengers in first class. They were all over 60 or single men.
“I mean can you imagine the logistics of actually trying to do anything in an airplane bathroom? Also ... just kinda gross,” Lexi said. I laughed - she had a point.
Our flight to Nashville was pleasant. I stopped after one glass of wine - someone had to drive once we landed - but Lexi had three, which made her chatty and fun. Reed was sitting across the aisle from me and also seemed to be having a good time. He’d begun flirting with the flight attendant, who was decently attractive, but was not buying what he was selling. Lexi was commentating his attempts with increasing amusement.
Once we touched down we rented a car - an upscale SUV, because we could - and made the short drive from the airport to the house we’d rented, stopping at a grocery store to get lunch as well as stock up on drinks and snacks. I had never seen a four figure grocery bill, but such were the effects of letting your two wine-loving drunk friends loose with instructions to stock up. Lexi spent most of the remainder of the ride mocking Reed’s attempt to flirt with the flight attendant but he gave back as good as he got. They both had good buzzes going. It felt weird for a Wednesday afternoon, I kept reminding myself this was our new world - no rules.
Our rental was exactly what we expected considering the exorbitant price we were paying for it: nice, spacious and in a good location. The place was borderline excessive, but I still sucked at being rich. After we ate lunch we claimed bedrooms at opposite ends of the house on opposite floors and got changed to go check out Broadway. It seemed logical to go to the city’s most famous attraction first since it was Lexi and I’s first time in Nashville.
The weather was nice, around 50 degrees and sunny. Lexi pulled on a purple Northwestern hoodie over the tank top she had worn on the plane. I grinned at her - this was peak sweatshirt weather, like we had talked about on Sunday. She also swapped out her sneakers for some suede ankle boots that I thought looked cute with her skinny jeans, which I told her. I put on a quarter zip pullover and wished I had remembered to pack a hoodie that morning.
We met Reed in the living room. He had switched to cowboy boots, which I was not aware he owned, and a plaid shirt that he had tucked into his jeans.
“I’m not sure you could look more like a tourist if you tried,” I said to him.
“At least I don’t look like a wanna be corporate sales guy,” he fired back. He had a point, between my khakis, boat shoes and pullover I definitely had some ‘corporate bro’ look going.
We made the short walk from the house to Broadway. I knew this part of Nashville very much had a ‘party atmosphere’ reputation, but I expected that at 3:00 on a Wednesday afternoon things would be relatively calm. I’d been to Austin’s Sixth Street, which I thought was similar, several times and it really did not kick off until the sun went down, particularly on weekdays. I was surprised then, by just how much activity there was. Loud music blasted from almost every bar. The street was clogged with cars, pedibars, and flatbed trailers outfitted with seating and dance floors.
“The fuck are those?” I asked, looking at one where a group of women in matching t-shirts and denim shorts, despite the cool weather, danced away wildly to a popular pop country song. Clearly a bachelorette party that had gotten started early that day.
“Party wagons, they’re a huge thing here,” Reed explained, “So cool, right? We should get one!”
The whole thing was an assault on my senses, there was noise, music, reveling, and tons of people. Reed embraced it, this was his scene through and through. He led the way towards one of the iconic Broadway honky-tonks. Lexi intertwined her arm in mine, almost as if afraid she’d get swept away in the chaos.
Reed was the first to make it to the bar inside and ordered three Fireball shots before I could stop him.
“Fireball tastes like fucking ass, couldn’t we at least do tequila or bourbon if we have to do shots?” I asked.
“This is Nashville, you need to get into the spirit of things,” Reed said and giggled as his own pun. Lexi and I rolled our eyes and clinked our shot glasses with his and we all threw the shots back. I still had not developed a taste for cinnamon-flavored whiskey. I doubted I ever would. I ordered a local brewery’s lager to wash it down and Lexi followed suit. Reed scoffed at the limited wine list and went for a Jack and Coke, claiming that would help him fit in.
“Bro, we’re in the most tourist trap of tourist traps, you’re not going to blend in,” I told him.
“It’s not about blending in, it’s about signaling to eligible bachelorette parties I know what is up,” Reed said. I rolled my eyes, his logic made no real sense to me.
We took our drinks upstairs to the open air rooftop and were lucky enough to find a table that gave us a great view of Broadway. It was interesting watching the chaos we had experienced at street level from several floors up.
“This place is amazing. I’m sold. It’s like Vegas but trashier and with more bachelorettes,” Reed opined.
“And clearly the party never stops, it’s freaking Wednesday afternoon,” Lexi pointed out.
“Agreed! This is my natural habitat,” Reed proclaimed.
“It’s not bad, I guess,” I said. “I don’t really want this lifestyle, but living in a city where this energy is here basically 24/7 whenever we want it ... I can see the upside.”
“He hath seen the light!” Reed said, raising his arms theatrically. Lexi made eye contact with me and rolled her eyes but she was chuckling.
We sat and people watched the goings on on Broadway for a couple hours, and made our way through a second round of drinks as the sun went down. The atmosphere on Broadway felt like it got even wilder once night set in.
“Ok, so this was informative, and a little fun, and I like that I got some sweatshirt weather, but I don’t feel like this is the real Nashville,” Lexi said. “If we’re serious about evaluating this as a potential place to move we need to get to a non-tourist area.”
“Agreed, the food in these places is probably overpriced fried garbage anyway,” Reed said.
“Yup, let’s find out where the actual good food is,” I added.
“So everything I read said this East Nashville neighborhood is a cool spot,” Lexi said.
Reed ordered the rideshare.
The area we got dropped off in - East Nashville - was still lively, but a world away from the chaos of Broadway. There was still music, but it was quiet and tasteful, rather than blaring pop country. The dominant demographic was people hitting happy hour after work rather than bachelorette parties. Lexi had picked out a bar that reviews said was an excellent happy hour spot.
Reed rejoiced that the wine list offered some bottles that could not be purchased at HEB and ordered a bottle of the most expensive Pinot Grigio on the list, claiming the lighter white wine would help him smooth things out after the liquor consumed on Broadway. I found his logic suspect, as I often did, but we could afford to have a little fun.
Between the wine on the plane, the shot and the beers on Broadway, Lexi definitely had a solid buzz going. She decided to follow Reed’s direction and ordered a nice bottle of Chianti, reasoning that red wine was more appropriate for sweatshirt weather. Not a normal move for her, but she was starting to lean into the indulgence a little. I just signaled the bartender for a second glass, figuring we could share.
“This is a cool vibe,” I opined once we had been served our bottles and found a booth.
“Yeah, I like it. Broadway is a phenomenon, and probably fun if you’re in the right mood, but this is cool. I wish we could find this atmosphere in Houston more,” Lexi said.
“The Broadway energy is fantastic, but truly good times cannot be had without good wine,” Reed commented as he sipped from his glass. “Perhaps that’s a business opportunity, bringing good wine to a Broadway bar.”
“Bring class to the classless,” I joked, thinking about how little appreciation most of the inebriated partiers we had seen that afternoon would have for a good bottle of wine.
“I wonder if locals ever actually go out on Broadway, or if it’s all tourists,” Lexi said.
“Hmmmm, that is sort of what we’re missing in a way, we don’t know what we don’t know,” Reed said.
“It’s actually kind of a good point,” I agreed. “We can read reviews and stuff, but at the end of the day there’s nothing like actual local knowledge of cool spots, good restaurants, what the best time to go out is, etc.”
“Well why don’t we make a friend?” Lexi asked.
“Excellent idea, and we’re not going to meet anyone huddled away in a booth like this, let us go mingle,” Reed said. He stood taking his glass of wine, but leaving the bottle on the table.
“This should be entertaining. Reed is pretty good at meeting people, but he’s three sheets to the wind by this point and dressed up like a tourist,” I said to Lexi once Reed had departed.
“Good thing I’m completely sober,” Lexi said, and giggled. She wasn’t on Reed’s level but was definitely having a good time.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying things a bit. I could get used to drinking wine this good every day. Maybe I can stop sucking at being rich,” I said.
“For sure! Maybe...” Lexi trailed off before finishing her thought. “I think I may see a friend prospect.”
I followed her eyes. A blonde woman wearing a black cocktail dress had just taken a seat at the bar. She seemed to be alone. She was a bit overdressed for happy hour, but the way her shoulders slumped seemed to hint at disappointment - and perhaps loneliness.
“I’m going to go say ‘hello’ and offer her some free wine,” Lexi said confidently. She pulled off her sweatshirt so she looked a bit dressier in her coral tank top and jeans, then re-tied her ponytail before striding towards the bar. I watched her settle in next to the blonde and the pair began to talk, presumably introducing themselves. They chatted for a few minutes, and both were laughing. Lexi gestured towards our booth and I saw the other woman nod before getting up, and the pair walked over.
“Allie, Kyle. Kyle, Allie,” Lexi said to introduce us. I stood and shook Allie’s hand. She was taller than Lexi, closer to average height, and very pretty. Her hair was not naturally blonde, but it was a good dye job with minimal roots visible. She was wearing a lot of makeup, but it was very tasteful. I guessed she was a couple years younger than us, but close to our age. Her black dress was attractive without being overly revealing, offering just a hint of cleavage. She had the slim figure of someone who watched their weight carefully, but was not skinny. She seemed overly done up for a casual Wednesday happy hour, and I wondered if she had plans for dinner later in the evening.
“Great to meet you Allie, so has Lexi here explained our little predicament?” I asked.
“I did, and the rest of Reed’s bottle is hers. His fault for abandoning it,” Lexi said, smiling.
Allie laughed. It was high pitched, bubbly. “Hard to turn down an offer like half a free bottle and new friends!” Allie’s voice was high, I guessed she was one of those people who was naturally high energy, who always sounded excited even if they weren’t. I immediately suspected Reed was going to love this girl.
“Agreed, wine and new friends are never a bad thing,” I said. “Did you guys talk about a dinner recommendation already?”
“We did, there’s some good Southern places around here, but there’s a neighborhood called Germantown back across the river that really has the best spots, depending on your mood and budget,” Allie said.
“I’d say we want to experience the best Nashville has to offer. I’m sold. Do you have plans tonight or are you potentially interested in joining us? Our treat of course,” I offered. I was still curious why she was so dressed up.
“Oh I’d love to, no plans. Honestly, my work friends were being lame since it’s a Wednesday and didn’t want to do happy hour. I figured maybe I’d get lucky and meet some new friends. My lucky day that Lexi honed in on me!” Allie said.
“Lexi, I’m discovering more and more, is very good at reading people,” I said, giving her an appreciative glance.
“So are y’all like dating?” Allie asked.
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