Posts Tagged ‘Gridskipper’

New York’s most notorious hotels

January 20, 2009

These are not necessarily the sexiest, but they are “notorious” according to Gridskipper, including Hotel Elysee:

The long list of illustrious guests who’ve stayed at this boutique hotel includes playwright Tennessee Williams, who lived in the “Sunset Suite” until his death there in … 1983. The police say that Williams died after choking on the cap to one of the numerous bottles of prescription pills that littered his room, but his brother insists that he was murdered. The Elysee has free wi-fi and reservations start at $275 a night.


College Callgirl’s Guide to NYC Sex Hotels

November 19, 2008

A classic Gridskipper post – College Callgirls’s Guide to NYC Sex Hotels. I’ll pick one to highlight that I’ve actually had sex in:

The Madison is offering “special summer rates” of $120 to $164 per day. I’m surprised they don’t have hourly options, since College Callgirl claims “the Madison hotel is … in frequent use by the crackheads, hookers, and perverts that are my people, and the management likes us.”

Madison Hotel
21 E 27th St
New York, NY 10016
(212) 532-7373

Here’s some of what I did there:

When we get to the hotel, he is as charming and gallant as if this were a normal date. He’s brought everything I could have wanted and more—condoms, lube, vibrators, along with bananas, Power Bars, vanilla-scented shampoo, and candles. There are a few moments of slight awkwardness, but they quickly fade. It’s a relief to focus solely on our bodily pleasure without any dating drama. It’s amazing how easily I’m able to adjust to his transition from relative stranger to new sex partner. Even though I know he wouldn’t be a suitable boyfriend, once I accept that this is casual sex, nothing more and nothing less, I can focus solely on my physical pleasure. I’m fixated on his long, soft fingers, and suckle them each one by one until he makes me stop so he can undress me. I’m already wet and don’t protest. “Welcome home,” he says, referring to my six sex-free months, as his hands stroke my pussy until it feels like a continuous round of palms caressing me.

He’s brought a Hitachi Magic Wand, as befits Betty Dodson’s boy toy, and shows me various positions I’ve never heard of—one leg straight and one leg raised up on a pillow, one with me on my hands and knees while he stands behind me—all interesting, but also distracting. I’m used to using my Magic Wand at home, alone, in a very precise way. We try these out and then go back to more familiar positions.

I’ve had to pee since I arrived, but forget about it in the midst of my arousal. When we’re done with round one, I can’t wait anymore and get up to use the bathroom. As I’m sitting naked on the toilet, poised with my legs spread, he comes in without asking. I’m all set to tell him to go away but he shushes me and I let him stay. Then his hand reaches between my legs. I’m not prepared for the immense shock waves of arousal his touch brings me. I’ve only been in this situation once before, and I couldn’t pee at all. But Eric stares at me as he strokes my oversensitive clit, and the more he does, the more I tremble. I still have to pee, but now that desire battles with my need to come. My toes are pointed and my legs shake so hard I have to hold onto the bathtub’s edge. I shudder for several very long moments as I pee over his fingers. It’s hotter than anything I could’ve planned, perhaps because I’m part horrified, part turned on.