Posts Tagged ‘erotica’

Great hotel sex erotica review at Lucrezia Magazine

February 21, 2010

Just discovered this 2009 review of Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories (unless I’d forgotten it) at Lucrezia Magazine:

Amanda Earl’s Welcome to the Aphrodisia Hotel begins at the hotel lobby bar. Our erotic heroine assess the body language of those around her. Will the businessmen and politicians have mistresses or escorts waiting for them in luxury suites? If so, how can one tell? The story begins with the character’s first person observation. Subtle sexual undercurrents enhance desire. This story is an apt addition to this anthology as it sums up the casual ambiance in hotel lobbies. No matter how much bleach, laundry powder or floor polish, hotels smell of sex and its potential.

Unexpected sex unravels in Stank Kent’s From Russia with Lust. It’s a tale of voyeurism and one man’s solitary lust. Our traveler is audience to an exhibitionist couple who take him to the peak of sexual frustration and promise.

Maxim Jakubowski’s G is for Gypsy is a walk through sexual nostalgia that may seem tame at the onset. It’s a tale about loneliness, lost love and feverish erotic memories. G is the woman that gets away. This story is also an erotic exposition. It’s the letter to ‘Go’ that delivers a haunting image of a man on the sexual edge.

From Saskia Walker’s hot lesbian tryst in The Lunch Break to Tess Danesi’s sweltering D/s threesome in The Royalton, there is a scene that takes advantage of the sexual sanctuary that hotels encapsulate.

All the stories within Do Not Disturb hit the erotic hotel within us all.


Top 10 Sex Books of 2009 includes Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories!

December 10, 2009

Big thanks to Violet Blue for listing Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories (click to read the table of contents/intro) as one of the top 10 sex books of 2009 in the San Francisco Chronicle! I, um, am a fan of hotel sex, and look forward to having more of it in 2010.

4. Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories Edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel.

In a hotel room, anything can happen — and in Bussel’s good-to-the-last-page collection of superb erotic fiction, anything does happen. Quick and dirty, or just dirty and fun, all of the stories are complete tales of hardcore trysts, thanks to Bussel’s expert curation and the authors’ remarkable talents. Fantastic.

Me at the Do Not Disturb book trailer shoot (one of my favorite photos of myself ever – I remember that day so well!), photo by Stacie Joy

Interview with Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories contributor Kristina Wright

March 20, 2009

How did you come up with the idea for your story “The Other Woman” in Do Not Disturb?

A couple of years ago, I shared an elevator with two women and a man. It was a strange dynamic, with him flirting with both of them and the women not being particularly familiar with each other. So I imagined a man arranging a ménage a trois with his reluctant girlfriend and another woman. What would that look like? What would happen between the women if the man was out of the picture? My story “The Other Woman” blossomed from that sixty second elevator ride and the questions the threesome inspired.

Is there a part of a hotel that you think is the sexiest?

I don’t know if there is a part of a hotel that is the sexiest, but I think there is something very sexy about hotel experience. When you walk into a hotel, the real world ceases to exist, time stands still for the duration you’re there and you can become anyone you want to be. What could be sexier than that?

What’s been your favorite hotel experience (x-rated or not)?

My favorite hotel experience was in July 2008. My husband is in the Navy and he left in April 2008 for a six-month deployment. His ship pulled into Jacksonville, Florida for a few days during the mid-point of the deployment and I was able to fly down and meet him. We stayed in the lovely Casa Monica Hotel in St. Augustine, Florida and it was a truly decadent three-day weekend! I hadn’t seen him in three months, so when he picked me up at the airport in a rental car and then took me to a hotel, it was a bit like having a rendezvous with a handsome stranger. (And I must say that in-room massages make for very relaxed and limber bodies!)

What do you think a hotel needs to make it a “sexy hotel?”

When I think of a sexy hotel, I think of a refuge from reality. Lush. Comfortable. Peaceful. Feeling pampered makes me feel sexy. I want a king-sized bed with a ridiculous number of pillows and the softest sheets that have ever touched my naked skin. And, of course, 24 hour room service to cater to my insomnia and the late night romps on those soft sheets.

Is there a specific hotel you’ve stayed in which you recommend, and/or a hotel you want to stay in, and why?

The Jefferson Hotel ( in Richmond, Virginia is a terrific weekend escape. The staff is friendly and attentive, the hotel has a lovely history and they have a Sunday champagne brunch that is simply incredible.

And—oh my—there are so many hotels I want to visit! I’m dying to spend a weekend at Keswick Hall near Charlottesville, Virginia. It looks like such a perfect retreat. I’ve wanted to be a guest of the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island, Michigan ever since I saw Somewhere in Time when I was a kid. And I’ve had afternoon tea at Claridges in London, but I would love to spend an entire week there.

What’s next for you?

Currently, I’m working on short stories for various anthologies and developing two novel proposals—one is an erotic paranormal romance and the other is an edgy, erotic suspense. Because I’ve started writing erotic romance, I will be attending the Romance Writer’s of America conference in Washington, DC in July. I can’t wait to check out the hotel!

Below is an excerpt from Kristina Wright’s story “The Other Woman.” Read the whole story in Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories and read more about Kristina at

It was Jason’s fantasy, not mine; Jason’s desire for a threesome—two women and him, of course—that had me sitting in a hotel bar nervously sipping on my second cosmopolitan in less than an hour. We were waiting for the woman who would be our third and I was wishing I was anyplace else but there.

Jason grinned like a teenaged boy seeing his first dirty movie. He reached across the bar and squeezed my hand. “Thanks for doing this, doll,” he said. “Who knows, maybe you’ll get what you want for your birthday.”

Ultimately, it had been the allusion to an engagement ring that had me sitting there in the first place. My hands were clenched in my lap so I wouldn’t fidget. When I’d agreed to Jason’s ménage à trois birthday request, he’d immediately known whom to ask. I wondered if all men were like that—they had a name and number always at the ready, in case the opportunity should present itself.

I glanced toward the entrance for about the fiftieth time since we had walked into the hotel bar. It had been Jason’s idea to meet me here a few minutes before the other woman arrived and my idea to get a hotel suite for the night. I just couldn’t bear the thought of him sleeping with the other woman in our bed. Somehow, having a threesome in a five-star hotel felt more like a fantasy than any part of my reality—and that was exactly how I wanted to think of it. Just a fantasy, nothing real that could hurt my relationship with Jason. The other woman would come and go and we would still be intact, untouched. Or so I hoped.

I kept thinking of her as the other woman, even though I knew her name was Stephanie and she worked in the accounting department at Jason’s firm. I would be face-to-face with Stephanie-from-accounting and I wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for that. What do you say to a woman you’ve never met but intend to fuck before the night is out?

Interview with Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories contributor Elizabeth Coldwell

March 10, 2009

How did you come up with the idea for your story in Do Not Disturb? Were you inspired by any particular hotels?

I assumed that a lot of ideas, such as couples checking in under false identities and people meeting up to conduct an affair would probably be pretty popular, so I tried to find a different reason why someone would be staying in a hotel. At the time, there was a story about a trial which was taking a long time to come to a verdict, and the jurors were having to stay overnight in a hotel until they reached a decision. That, coupled with the fact that every time I switched on the Scuzz rock video channel, it seemed to be playing Good Charlotte’s “Lifestyles Of The Rich And Famous,” which is set in a court room, set something off in my head, and I came up with the two bored jurors who found a sexy way of passing the time before they had to be back in court. I didn’t have a specific hotel in mind, just somewhere nice but fairly generic where all the rooms are identical – and, of course, it had a view out over a busy city.

Is there a part of a hotel that you think is the sexiest?

I like hotel bars, and being able to sit and watch other people around you, wondering what they might be doing and who they are with. I’ve been in the bar at the Algonquin Hotel in New York and loved it – so much history. And of course, bars are great places to hook up with someone, if you’re looking for a no-strings liaison.

What’s been your favorite hotel experience (x-rated or not)?

Two female friends and I spent a couple of days in Jersey, and booked a room for three – it was some cheap deal through one of the daily newspapers. When we turned up, they had assumed we were two parents and a child, which was quite funny – and to make it worse, the single bed one of my friends was in (I was sharing the double) promptly broke when she got into it. Absolutely nothing naughty went on, but we dread to think what they thought we’d done to it!

What do you think a hotel needs to make it a “sexy hotel?”

Ideally, it needs to be small and intimate, not large and characterless. I don’t go for sleazy motels, though I know a lot of people find them very sexy – I like to feel that I’m being pampered by the staff, as well as whoever I’m with.

Is there a specific hotel you’ve stayed in which you recommend, and/or a hotel you want to stay in, and why?

I’m very intrigued by the Lloyd Hotel, in Amsterdam’s Eastern Docks. It’s an amazing Art Deco building, with quite an arty history, but its selling point is that it has rooms varying from one star to five stars, all in the same building. Apparently one of the five-star rooms has a grand piano, while another has a bed which sleeps eight. You could really have fun in that one…

What’s next for you?

I’ve just had a story accepted by Black Lace for one of their anthologies. And my next holiday is booked, to Amsterdam. I won’t be staying at the Lloyd Hotel, but I may take the chance to go to their bar and see if I get inspired by it.



Lloyd Hotel photos via their website

Below is an excerpt from Elizabeth Coldwell’s story “Guilty Pleasure.” Read the whole story in Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories, available now, as well as in the (forthcoming) June 2009 issue of Penthouse. Also available at Amazon UK.

“Nice room,” Craig says, looking around. “And that view is superb. All I can see out of my window is the parking lot.”

He turns out to be a vodka man, and I’m unscrewing a bottle and pouring it into a glass for him when he suddenly says, “Hey, I’m not interrupting anything here, am I?”

The bathroom door is open, and at first I assume he can see the tub, full of foamy water. And then I realize he’s staring at the bedæmore specifically, at the hot pink vibrator which is still lying where I threw it.

My cheeks are flushed and I know I’ve been busted. “What can I say?” I ask, trying to make a joke out of the situation. “Sometimes I just get horny.”

“Particularly when hubby and his big, hard cock aren’t around to satisfy you, huh?” Hearing Craig use the word “cock” makes my pussy clench with a sudden, fierce spasm. As I stand rooted to the spot, he picks the toy up, twists the base so it buzzes briefly into life, then switches it off again. “You know,” he says, “I’ve always wanted to watch a woman use one of these things on herself.” I think I know what’s coming next, but I just fiddle with my glass as he continues, “And I’d love it if that woman was you.”

I should stop the conversation here and ask him to leave the room. After all, I’m a respectable married woman, not some kind of slut who’ll act out any old nasty fantasy if a man asks her to. And yet, there’s something about being in this anonymous hotel room, away from everyone and everything I know, which makes me feel that, if only for tonight, I could be that slut.

The tension in the room is almost unbearable as Craig takes a swig of his vodka and I wait for him to raise the stakes. “Go on,” he says finally. “Take that robe off for me.”

I set down my glass and walk over to the bed. Craig’s eyes never leave me as my hands fumble with the belt of the robe. I untie it and shrug the garment off, standing before him naked. It’s been a very long time since anyone but Don has seen me this way, and I can’t help being a little insecure as I bare myself to him. I’m sure my body is more mature than those of the girls Craig is used to being with, a little heavier, a little more rounded. But his gaze is eating me up, letting me know just how desirable he finds me.

“Here.” Craig hands me the vibrator, letting his hand brush gently against the curve of my ass. I don’t bother with the lube; I’m already so wet that I know the toy is just going to slip inside me.

Interview with Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories contributor Shanna Germain

March 7, 2009

How did you come up with the idea for your story, “Talking Dirty,” in Do Not Disturb?

I travel a lot, so I’ve stayed in a ton of hotels, all over the board as far as quality and options. I think people have sex in hotels differently than they have sex at home, and I wanted to explore that. So, for this book, I do what I often do when I’m trying to come up with a story–I start with a person, and I say does this person act differently in a hotel from every other person in the world? That question, combined with all the perfectly wrapped bars of soaps and the “never-used” look of items, made me think of a woman with obsessive-compulsive disorder and how a hotel might benefit her.

Were you inspired by any particular hotels?

I’ve been inspired by many hotels over the years, including an ancient crumbling building in Rome, the slightly cheesy W in Chicago, a beautiful open air space in Costa Rica that didn’t have any doors, and more than a handful of hotels where the same group of us have tried to break into the pool at ungodly hours of the morning (to no avail, I might add).

Is there a part of a hotel that you think is the sexiest?

It depends on the hotel. I like lobbies a great deal–all of the things that are about to happen, the secret meetings, the potential for discovery, the people who pass each other like they haven’t just spent the night together but whose lust is evident in their every movement.

What’s been your favorite hotel experience (x-rated or not)?

Susie Bright came to read in Portland, and after her event, a few of us headed back to her room for drinks and homemade ice creams. We talked for hours, all of us in our bare feet.

What do you think a hotel needs to make it a “sexy hotel?”

The right person.

After that, those little details. Most hotels have some kind of fault, but they also have that one great thing. An awesome shower head. Good-smelling lotion. A really high, squishy mattress. A chair that’s perfect to be bent over. Also, I love the fact that someone else makes my bed and I get back after a busy day to find a perfectly fluffed pillow just waiting for me. I find that incredibly sexy.

Is there a specific hotel you’ve stayed in which you recommend, and/or a hotel you want to stay in, and why?

If I had to choose one particular hotel, it would be the Sylvia Beach Hotel on the Oregon Coast. Each room is decorated for an author, so you can stay in the Mark Twain room, visit the ravens in the Edgar Allan Poe room, or try on hats in the Dr. Seuss room. The library, as you might imagine, is to die for, and every meal features a rousing game of Two Truths and a Lie.

What’s next for you?

Oh, a million things. Namely moving to Scotland where I’ll be staying in a tiny flat that is probably going to be a lot like a hotel room only without the maid service. After that, writing, reading, editing, playing, hiking and staying at more castles than hotels, at least for the next six months.

Below is an excerpt from “Talking Dirty” by Shanna Germain. Read the whole story in Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories.

Cate’s nearly finished washing. It’s in the sound of the water hitting her when she bends down to wash her calves, her ankles, the bottoms of her feet.

“Your turn,” she calls. I step into the shower behind her, stunned as I always am by her body. I see it so rarely anymore. She’s so pale and pink, so pure. Turned away from me, she’s all hips and ass and the small muscles that grace her upper back. She scoots over to let me under the water, and her pink nipples are pointed. Water runs down her skin in rivers, big and small.

She doesn’t touch me, but she watches while I wash. I go the same order—head, chest, belly. Carefully. The order is important. So is the way I hold the soap, the length of time that I rinse. The soap shouldn’t touch any part of the body but my hands.

I lather my hand and run along the length of my hard cock. My teeth ache with how much I want her to touch me. But she just watches this too, her real smile, the one where she doesn’t show any teeth, but instead just the laugh lines of her lips. I wash the rest of me and stack my soap on top of hers.

“All clean,” I say.

She stands a minute, appraising. I stand under the spray and wait. This is the final checkpoint. If we can make it here, we’re good. We’re golden. I hold my breath.
Cate reaches out one finger, wipes it on my arm as though giving me the white glove test.

“Clean,” she says. And she kisses me, uses her lips and tongue. Soapy taste and I wonder if she’s taken to washing her mouth out again. I hope not.

I pull her toward me, not breaking the kiss. I know she hopes that if we do this enough, that if she touches me and I touch her and nothing bad happens, no one dies, then her mind will deem me—me and sex—safe. Clean.

Read the rest of Shanna’s story in Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories. Find out more about her on her website and blog.

Interview with Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories contributor Tess Danesi

March 4, 2009

How did you come up with the idea for your story in Do Not Disturb? Were you inspired by any particular hotels?

My story involves a mysterious threesome between the fictional Tess, her lover, Dar and a mysterious man. Even with my, ahem, rather extensive experience with kink, this is one variation that seems to have eluded me. The scenario I’ve set up In The Royalton is one that makes me hot because it pushes so many of my limits. There are times I prefer to explore these limits in fiction rather than in reality. The Royalton, a hotel on 44th Street between 5th and 6th Avenues (a block, I am told, that has the highest concentration of hotels in Manhattan) in NYC, with its plush lounge and stark yet decadent rooms is the stuff inspiration is made of.

Is there a part of a hotel that you think is the sexiest?

When you walk into a hotel, you can abandon who you are and become who you want to be in that moment. Hotels, because of their anonymity, allow for this immense sense of freedom, of anything goes. And seemingly, for me, so it does. I’ve been groped in hotel elevators, pushed to my knees in the ice room, wandered endless corridors in an all but deserted resort hotel. I’ve fucked against a window while watching a woman on the balcony below sip her wine, found myself bound to the bed when the fire alarm started bleating, and I’ve had my lover tenderly kiss me in the parking lot, come around to open my door, then drag me by my hair, bend me over the frigid hood of the car and sink his perfect cock into me within mere feet of our comfortable and warm room.

Given all of the above, I can’t say I think any part, from the lobby, to the parking lot, to the bar, to the darkened hallways, is sexiest.

What’s been your favorite hotel experience (x-rated or not)?

Actually, one of my favorite experiences is going to be published in an upcoming anthology by Alison Tyler. It involves a sadist lover, beautiful black rope, a less than ideal ball gag, a belt and a knock on the door. The knock on the door reminds me of a kinky threesome that started early one spring afternoon, broke for dinner out on the town and then took up again until after 1 am, when banging on the wall from the room next door (I tend to be a screamer even when there is no belt involved) sent us all into fits of giddy laughter and gave us a much needed break.

What do you think a hotel needs to make it a “sexy hotel?”

There was a point when I hated the thought of “hot sheet” hotels, I preferred high thread count, pristine sheets and all the other amenities that you find in a luxury hotel. I still love the way four-star hotels allow me to revel in decadence. But there are times that I crave a dirty hotel, one where my sighs, screams and moans mingle with those from the rooms around me. A place where there won’t be anyone banging on the walls (not unless they want to join in).

But what truly makes a hotel sexy is the energy of the people in the room.

Is there a specific hotel you’ve stayed in which you recommend, and/or
a hotel you want to stay in, and why?

I definitely recommend The Royalton. In the many times I’ve been lucky enough to stay there, I’ve had a some really amazing rooms including one with a fireplace and huge round bathtub and a room with a small completely mirrored anteroom in which an exercise bicycle sat (I bet those fingerprints where a bitch to clean off all those mirrors). Plus they have really hot doormen. Hi, Dino!

The rainfall showers at The Thompson LES are also pretty hard to beat.

But the hotel I am craving to go back to at the moment, is the large, deserted monster of a hotel somewhere in the wilds of New Jersey; thoughts of exploring all the nooks and crannies, from ballrooms to bathrooms, makes me feel edgy. Just thinking of it now, has me squirming in my seat.

What’s next for you?

I have been a lazy writer these days but I hope to change that and finish one of my favorite stories, “Isabella’s Eyes,” and perhaps shop it around as a novel. It will take work but I think it’s a strong story and reading it never fails to take me through a range of emotions. We’re also in the initial planning stages for the 2010 NYC SexBlogger Calendar. Plus, after being to too many awful sex toy parties, where the selection is awful and terms like doorbell are bandied about, I’m gearing up to host my own sex toy parties with all high end and quality sex toys and I’d really love to do them in hotel rooms.

Below is an excerpt from Tess Danesi’s story “The Royalton–A Daray Tale.” Read the entire story in Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories, and read more of Tess’s writing at her blog NYC Urban Gypsy.

2) There’s a bottle of Laphroaig on the credenza. Pour two tumblers and set them on the round glass table.

Two glasses of whiskey? My heart is thumping harder than ever. I put my hand on top of my breast, feeling the persistent rhythm against my palm and keeping it there until it slows. Dar knows one of my fantasies has been to be double penetrated by him and another man, but Dar, though he’s had his share of kinky three- and more-somes with casual girlfriends, has never shared anyone he cared about deeply. As I pour the amber liquid into the two glasses, inhaling the heavy peaty aroma, I think how Dar has more than satisfied me sexually, awakening a deep and darkly masochistic side of my personality. While I am not submissive in general, I am submissive to him. In the midst of the tidal wave of passion and sadism that is Dar, I never gave much thought to actualizing this particular fantasy. And with Dar’s jealousy, an emotion that has been known to stir up his profound capacity for cruelty, I worry that perhaps it would be best for all concerned to let it go unrealized. A threesome would explain why I am in this hotel room. This is something Dar would not want left to linger among the ghosts that haunt his home. It makes sense to do this here, in a place we can leave behind, abandoning any specters when we close the door behind us. I force myself to stop predicting, stop thinking and look at the next line.

3) Strip to your bra and panties.

I quickly remove my dress and hang it up neatly in the closet, eager to get to the next instruction. Though I haven’t read ahead, I’ve seen only a few more are left to go and then I’ll be in Dar’s arms. I can’t wait. It may not be a warm embrace, I may be dealing with him in his cool and methodical mood, but to me just being in his presence is calming. Contradictions abound; with Dar I feel a deep inner peace even when I am at my most apprehensive. With Dar there are only extremes, I love him or I hate him, I feel safe or frightened, often I feel these emotions at the same time. What is a constant is my fathomless trust in him. I have a premonition I will be dipping into that well of faith tonight.

Interview with Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories contributor Alison Tyler

March 3, 2009

Today’s contributor interview is with Alison Tyler, author of the story “Tightly Tucked” in Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories.

How did you come up with the idea for your story in Do Not Disturb?

“Tightly Tucked” was inspired by a couple Sam and I traveled with in Europe. Although the woman was on vacation, she could not relax. Every second of the day was planned out. And this was in Amsterdam—where relaxation is sort of a law. Ultimately, Sam and I cut the trip short and took a train to Paris. We returned to Amsterdam without our friends and had a much happier time. If happier is another word for debauched.

Were you inspired by any particular hotels?

Really, I was focused on hotel stays in general. I’m fascinated by the type of people who really like to sprawl out and enjoy all parts of their visit versus the types who can’t ever seem to unwind. I have to say, I was a bit envious of your recent stay at The Fairmont. I’ve never spent a night there, but what a classic hotel!

Is there a part of a hotel that you think is the sexiest?

The beds at the Paramount. The pictures over the beds are just lovely.

A good bar can be key, too. Or a place where you slip someone else your key. (I adored The Whiskey at The Paramount.)

What’s been your favorite hotel experience (x-rated or not)?

After wake-up sex, strolling in a fairly disheveled manner downstairs to snag a cup of coffee before slipping back upstairs for pre-lunch sex. The Triton in San Francisco has a delightful lobby and an early a.m. coffee cart. It’s as if they know just what you need.

What do you think a hotel needs to make it a “sexy hotel?”

A sexy bedmate.

Is there a specific hotel you’ve stayed in which you recommend, and/or a hotel you want to stay in, and why?

I loved the Prinsen Hotel in Amsterdam (we had one of the rooms on the top floor, and we had a room overlooking the flats) and the Lutetia in Paris (for our honeymoon). But my favorite hotel is The Paramount in NYC.

What’s next for you?

Hmmm. Now, I’m craving a night of pampering at some 4-star hotel. But on the publishing agenda, I’m thrilled to announce that my story “Junking” was accepted for Virgin’s collection called Liaisons.

Read more of Alison Tyler on her blog.

Love Hotel Madness by Donna George Storey

March 3, 2009

This guest post is by Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories contributor Donna George Storey, whose story, “Room Service,” closes the book. Look for an upcoming interview with her here about the inspiration for her story, and an excerpt. Thanks, Donna, for such an interesting post!

“Love Hotel Madness”
by Donna George Storey

Donna George Storey's Do Not Disturb blog post

Once a land of inscrutable mystery, Japan is no longer especially exotic to Westerners with sushi bars, manga, and Nintendo now familiar fixtures in our culture.

But there is one Japanese institution the West has yet to import–one that still retains an aura of glittering allure and forbidden pleasure. I’m talking, of course, about the love hotel, where a couple can rent a scrupulously clean and fancifully decorated room designed primarily for a few hours of steaming hot sex.

In a country where housing is expensive, the walls paper thin, and many adult children live with their parents until they marry, it’s hard to find a time and a place for no-holds-barred, thrash-and-scream erotic encounters. Enter the love hotel, which truly fills an aching need in Japanese culture. Researchers estimate that one half of all sexual encounters in Japan take place in a love hotel.

Curious? But your schedule won’t allow a quick trip to Japan for an amorous encounter in a room decorated with large Hello Kitty dolls in S&M gear? Then come join me for the next best thing: Love Hotel Madness, a timeless game of afternoon delights where everyone’s a winner!

Donna George Storey's Do Not Disturb blog post

First, of course, you have to pick your game pieces. Will you be the married couple, desperate to get away from grandma and the kids on a Sunday afternoon? Two college students who lodge in dorms where your mates see and hear everything? Or maybe an American businesswoman who forms a very special connection with her Japanese client as in Isabelle Gray’s “So Simple a Place” in Do Not Disturb?

Next you need to find your love hotel. The best hunting ground is near the train tracks, along the highway, or in the entertainment districts of cities. In Tokyo, Shibuya’s “Love Hotel Hill” has perhaps the most concentrated selection of love hotels in the country. Will it be “Hotel Rich Inn”? Or “Hotel Monaco”? How about “New Seeds”? Or “Blue Roses”? Pick a card and proceed.

Once you choose, step through the discreet hanging curtain into the lobby. There is no check-in clerk, merely a wall of computer screens, each advertising a particular room, with price and amenities. The lit-up screens indicate unoccupied rooms, and you can shop for the theme of your choice. For the purposes of Love Hotel Madness, roll the dice and find the room with that number. Tap the button on the screen for “rest” (one to three hours) or “stay” (the all-night option) and follow the blinking lights to the door of your room, which has been unlocked automatically.

Donna George Storey's Do Not Disturb hotel room photos

Although we’ve all heard about the laugh-out-loud humorous theme rooms involving paper mache igloos or beds fitted out as boxing rings, more common these days is a well-appointed love den that resembles a baroque Western hotel, although creative touches may be included like a cave bath or a black-light ocean mural. One reason for the decline of all-out kitsch is that women now have more say in the particulars of rendezvous locales. In fact, the word “love hotel” is seldom used by the Japanese anymore. They prefer softer, euphemistic names like couples’ hotel, fashion hotel or boutique hotel.

Another blow to the fun was the 1985 change to the Law Regulating Businesses Affecting Public Morals. That sorry moment in legislative history banished mirrors on the ceilings and rotating beds and restricted exuberant architectural expression. Thus the Cinderella castles and Moorish palaces I remember so well from my first stay in Japan became unremarkable, anonymous facades, and many owners reregistered their establishments as “business hotels” to avoid fines.

Donna George Storey's Do Not Disturb hotel room photos

However, bright spots do remain in the love hotel landscape. If you’re lucky enough to have rolled for the Hotel Adonis in Osaka, you might find yourself in the Hello Kitty S& M room, the bed equipped with manacles and a cute Hello Kitty quilt. Osaka’s Hotel Loire is a classic—here you can rent a train car to act out subway sex fantasies, the Olympic room with Ionic columns and faux marble floors, or the Pirate room, with a bed right on deck and a view of an approaching ship flying the skull-and-crossbones.

One final preparation: a bit of fiddling with the fancy console on the headboard of your bed. Here you can adjust the room temperature or set the mood with music, the soothing sound of waves or a train conductor’s announcements, perfect for sex-in-the-train fantasies.

Donna George Storey's Do Not Disturb hotel room photos

Now it’s time to move on to the climax of Love Hotel Madness. You are about to embark on the ultimate Japanese experience—a quick trip to the yume no kuni, the Land of Dreams. In a country where context rules everything, from the pronoun you use to describe yourself to the angle of your bow, the love hotel is the one place where sensual indulgence is allowed and, if you’re in a dungeon room, strictly required by your Master’s orders. If you’re looking for inspiration for some taboo-busting hotel sex, Do Not Disturb has plenty of stories to get your imagination wet and slippery. So I’ll leave you for an hour or two to add your own special touch to the game….

Ahem, sorry to intrude, but your time is up and if you don’t want to pay a surcharge, it’s best to check out now. Paying for your pleasure might involve tucking your cash in a container that goes speeding to the clerk through a pneumatic tube. Other hotels ask you pay with a credit card via computer. Some will actually lock you in until payment is received!

In any case you will eventually find yourself back in the real world, blinking at the grim, fully-clothed people bustling about on the street around you. Yes, perhaps it was all just a dream. But what’s this in your hand? A coupon informing you that if you “rest” four times at Hotel New Seeds, your fifth romp between the sheets is free. Plus you’ve already earned one stamp. See, I told you, in Love Hotel Madness, everyone’s a winner.

Donna George Storey has taught English in Japan and Japanese in the US. She’s very honored to be part of the contributors’ register of Do Not Disturb. Her first novel, Amorous Woman, a semi-autobiographical tale of an American woman’s love affair with Japan has many sex scenes set in hotels throughout Japan. Read more of her work at her very amorous Web site,

Interview with Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories contributor Madlyn March

March 2, 2009

How did you come up with the idea for your story in Do Not Disturb?

“Heart-Shaped Holes” was mostly fiction, but it was based on a few real things. Like my main character, I was in a less than sexually satisfying relationship with a man. The beginning of the story is my vision of what life would have been like had I actually gotten married to him (and we were frighteningly close to that prospect). Of course he was not entirely as bad as the male character in this story, so I should be fair to him on that point.

The story is also about that moment of discovery every lesbian or bisexual woman has when she realizes she’s turned on by someone of her own gender. It’s a magical moment, whether you wind up staying with the person in the long term or not. That, too, was based partially on my life.

Were you inspired by any particular hotels?

The hotel is mostly just my vision of what a random seedy hotel looks like, but the heart shaped tubs are based on real ones they had in Mount Airy Lodge. I used to see the commercials for them all the time when I was younger. (Maybe you remember them too if you were in the New York area in the 80s?) It looked very fun and romantic. The guy and girl would walk via a special ramp to get into the tub and then they’d be having champagne and you just knew what would happen next. I loved it! Of course, I was about four at the time I was watching this, mind you. Strange, the things that stay in the mind.

Is there a part of a hotel that you think is the sexiest?

Definitely the bed, with the hot tub running a close second.

What’s been your favorite hotel experience (x-rated or not)?

I was working at a fancy-schmancy event my company was doing at the Waldorf Astoria, and my job was to greet incoming guests and tell them where the event was being held. A woman starts walking up the stairs and I immediately recognize her. I tell her where the event is and she says in a very uppity voice, “My dear–I’ve been coming here since before you were born!” It was Kitty Carlisle Hart, God rest her soul.

What do you think a hotel needs to make it a “sexy hotel?”

I think it helps to pull out all the stops with the strawberries and champagne and such. But mostly, it depends on who you’re with. I once was in what I thought was a pretty sexy hotel but I was miserable because I wasn’t with who I was supposed to be with.

Is there a specific hotel you’ve stayed in which you recommend, and/or a hotel you want to stay in, and why?

I really would love to stay in the Library Hotel in New York City one of these days. From what I’ve seen on their web site they put a premium on making the experience sexy for their guests, with their special erotic-themed room, the Erotica Suite, which you mentioned in your intro to Do Not Disturb.I also like the fact that the Library Hotel understands a place can be sexy without being sleazy.

What’s next for you?

Well, hopefully, more erotica stories will be published, maybe some non-fiction, and I am working on Novel Try Number Two after finally having gotten over the heartbreak of not being able to revise Novel Try Number One. Oh, and I’ll be at In The Flesh in June! I’m really looking forward to that.

Below is an excerpt from Madlyn March’s story “Heart-Shaped Holes.” Read the entire story in Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories and come out on June 18th to hear her read it at LGBT Erotica Night at In The Flesh Reading Series in NYC.

“Anyway,” I continued, “we were watching this lesbian porn film, and I thought maybe a woman’s lips, just that they’re softer, not that I’m a lesbian or anything. Not that there’s something wrong with it, but I’m not. So this woman’s lips, I thought, like, if I could get inside the TV and…okay, I’m not making much sense now, am I?”
“That’s fine. Sense is highly overrated. But forget about that for a second. I have an exciting experiment in mind for you.”

“What is it?” I asked, thinking maybe she had some kind of magical potion that could make me come with my husband.

“Get in the tub. Position yourself against one of the jets. If you can’t get off that way, then you’ll know you have a problem. But if you can, then you’ll know he’s the problem.” She smiled. “Just sit in there for a little while, and when you’re done, let me know what you think.”

I sat outside the tub for a long time, wondering what to do. This weird woman was telling me to have an orgasm in her room. Of all the things I thought would be happening on my wedding night, this was not one of them. But none of the things I had thought would be happening on my wedding night were happening anyway. What the hell? I was here. Nobody would ever know. And I was curious.

I undressed, turned the water on and went in. I searched for a jet. I found it and slowly pushed my pussy up to it. At first, it was just a pleasant feeling, like when you get a massage. But then the pressure felt different, and I got a very strange urge to thrust my hips against the water like a maniac. The pain in my pussy was now definitely forgotten.

The more I pushed myself up to the flow, the more intense the feeling was. All I wanted to do was sit there all day with water gushing between my legs. And yet I was going mad. This was nice, but there had to be something more. I was desperate for some resolving of this torture, but there was no relief, only more excitement.

And then the water shut off.

Interview with Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories contributor Thomas Roche

February 27, 2009

Thomas Roche photo for Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories interview

How did you come up with the idea for your story in Do Not Disturb?

If I were astonishingly wealthy (and socially irresponsible) I would not maintain a residence. I would not have a mansion or an estate or a top-floor loft; I would stay in hotels, a new one every few weeks. I like mobility, anonymity, and the ripe possibility that comes from extreme isolation. Maintaining an apartment has always been a chore to me, and I would just as soon get rid of almost everything I own and wander from city to city writing pulp novels on an old Underwood. I am sure it would get old pretty quickly, but that’s what a fantasy is for; it doesn’t have to get old.

My story “A Room at the Grand” just grew naturally from my fascination with this. But it’s also about liking semi-anonymous sex, not to mention sex work. I’m not sure what’s up with that, but, you know, it’s a thing.

Were you inspired by any particular hotels?

In this story, I believe I was imagining the Sheraton Palace in San Francisco, though there’s no real parallel. I could also imagine the story happening in the Westin-St. Francis, which I love for many reasons, but probably first and foremost because part of The Caine Mutiny novel takes place there (when it was just The St. Francis).

Is there a part of a hotel that you think is the sexiest?

The guest rooms, of course, but hotel bars have a certain tawdry charm — borderline sleazy even in the nicest of hotels. I have always wondered about people who go drink at hotel bars when they’re not staying there. It’s necessary in smaller cities, probably, because there are fewer options for watering holes. But it still seems bizarrely blatant, like going to a smorgasbord of married people away from home with big beds to sleep in and nobody to sleep there with.

What’s been your favorite hotel experience (x-rated or not)?

I used to organize meetings across the country, so I’ve had quite a few hotel experiences and I don’t know that I could pick a very favorite. But three meta-experiences stand out. First, when I was younger I traveled across the South and Southwest with a girlfriend I was amazingly hot for, and I believe it was the first time I’d ever stayed in motels without older persons in attendance — it was amazing, I couldn’t keep my hands off her for 10 days. Another time when I was living in Los Angeles I came up for Folsom and stayed at the Pickwick in San Francisco, an amazing old hotel where part of The Maltese Falcon was filmed. I was very into photography at the time, so a large parade of unbelievably hot friends and hired models spent the week making their way through my hotel room. Things got fairly dirty — maybe not as dirty as one might have hoped; there were bibles involved, as there always seem to be when I take naked pictures in a hotel. And last but far from least, I once spent a very steamy weekend with a lovely hot female writer friend in the exceedingly sleazy Travelodge on Vermont and Sunset. That was a memorable time.

What do you think a hotel needs to make it a “sexy hotel?”


A hot tub with no line of sight to the night manager also certainly doesn’t hurt.

Is there a specific hotel you’ve stayed in which you recommend, and/or a hotel you want to stay in, and why?

I’ve literally stayed in hundreds of hotels and motels over the years. The ones I like best are the old classy elegant ones like SF’s Pickwick, St. Francis and Sheraton Palace; also amazing in SF are the Ritz-Carlton, the Mark Hopkins, and the Fairmont. The Colony Hotel and Cabana Club in Delray Beach, Florida is wonderful. The Brown Palace in Denver is gorgeous, despite its unfortunate name.

Nice hotels offend my proletarian sensibilities on some level, but what can I say? I’m a bourgeois whore. But I also like the other end of the hotel experience. There’s a sleazy hotel in San Francisco on Geary, I believe called the Union Square, that I stayed at for some weeks while relocating, and took dirty pictures in. I also have an affinity for truly downscale anonymous sleazy motels on the highway, especially in the South and Midwest – nothing is sexier than a road trip.

What’s next for you?

I have actually moved a bit away from erotica and am working a lengthy series of contemporary fantasy stories, hopefully soon to be the Cannery Row/Yoknapatawpha County/Lake Wobegon of Lovecraftian occult-cryptozoology-UFO-werewolf-vampire-conspiracy theory fiction. There are erotic elements in most of my new pieces as well, however, and though they mostly couldn’t be called erotica and several of my recent erotic stories do fit in to this world. If you check out the fiction section at my site you’ll see a story or two that reflect this direction. I wouldn’t call it a new direction, as I’ve been writing fantasy professionally off and on since 1989, but my mythology has recently started to developed of its own accord, usually while I’m sleeping.

And as always I continue to teach at San Francisco Sex Information. I do that twice a year, and appear to be a lifer there.

And here’s an excerpt from “A Room at the Grand” – read the rest in Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories.

The elevator bonged cheerfully; he exited, turned left, found room 1423 with the deadbolt shot to hold the door ajar. He pushed in and shut the door behind him.

The room was big enough to have a small entryway, but it was not a suite; there was no sitting area for him to cross before he saw her stretched on the bed, gloriously lit by bedside lamps and looking every bit the whore he was about to pay for.

“Hi,” she said with a smile in her voice. “I’m Ali. Are you Scott?”

He opened his mouth to say “Yeah,” but forgot the word somewhere halfway between his freshly polished wingtips and his inexpertly knotted necktie. It was not an easy word to forget, but he did it, his eyes surging from Ali’s black stiletto all the way up the immaculate curve of one leg in its sheer black stocking, the calf turned just so to reveal the seam accentuating its shape, the thighs slightly spread to show the smooth flesh where black lace hitched to garters. There, his eyes and his brain fought a battle, because devouring Ali’s legs had been so unspeakably pleasant that he almost didn’t want to move on to the rest of her. He did, though, taking in the tiny slip of see-through fabricæthinner than the stockings, if anything–that formed her thong, then moving on to her glorious hips framed by her garter belt in addition to her tattoos, and her breasts crammed into an impossibly tight push-up bra that had her spilling out everywhere and looking like a D-cup at the very least.

Then there was her hair, cascading everywhere on the expensive white pillowcases. It was freshly blackæit had been going chocolate-sepia the last few weeks–and her candy-apple-red lipstick made her lips stand out in the waterfall of black hair and pale, glorious face, face, face.

“You look…you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. “You’re, uh, much hotter than your picture.”

Her face brightened, the smile on her red mouth managing to look gullibly pleased and cynically lascivious. “Awww,” she said. “What a wonderful thing to say, Scott. You’re very cute yourself. Very much my type.” Her voice was equal parts flirtation/seduction and I-am-blowing-smoke-up-your-ass. Something about that made him get hard immediately, which he had already been well on his way to.