Posts Tagged ‘sex’

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?


Audio version of hotel sex erotica story “Room Service” by Donna George Storey

March 13, 2009

For those who like their erotica in audio version, listen to this super sexy reading of Donna George Storey’s “Room Service” read by Diva Diane at Nobilis Erotica.

The story is from my new erotica anthology Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories.

Watch the book trailer, read the introduction and numerous contributor interviews about hotel sex over at the Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories blog.

Do Not Disturb is available for sale at Amazon, B&N, Powells and your local bookstore.

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 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.

Interview with Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories contributor Gwen Masters

February 26, 2009

Today’s contributor Q&A is with erotica writer Gwen Masters, whose story in the book is called “Memphis.”

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

Okay, so here’s confession time…when that story was first written, I was spending a lot of time in a certain hotel in Memphis with a certain man. After each of our encounters, I wrote a story for him. There were dozens of them by the time we were through, and “Memphis” was one of the first.

Were you inspired by any particular hotels?

I’ve always found hotels inspiring, because I see them as a blank canvas of sorts. The room is anonymous, the guy behind the desk will probably never remember your name, and hell — you don’t even have to use your real name if you pay in cash, do you? Behind those doors, anything is possible, and nobody has to know.

I also love the story of the room. You know there has to be a multitude of stories for that space. Everything about it begs for attention — who read the Bible in the drawer? Who left that note on the paper that you found under the bed? Those fingerprints on the window, up near the top…how did they get there? Even the last channel the television was on…I love the mystery of every little thing about the hotel room, and I like leaving a little something behind of my own. I’ve been known to write messages on postcards and slip them into drawers.

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

You know those rooms at the very back of the hallway, where you turn a corner and find the vending machines and the ice? I’ve always found that so incredibly hot. Between the roar of the ice machine and the hum of all the other machines plugged in back there, you can’t hear each other speak. There are all sorts of little corners where you can work some sexual magic — and you could get caught! If you’ve never had sex beside that vibrating ice machine, you must put it on your to-do list.

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

Waking up after a long night of making love, the windows open and the sunlight spilling over me — and he wasn’t there. But there was a tray filled with pastries, a glass of milk and a glass of orange juice, a long-stemmed rose and the paper, with a note telling me to read and eat and sleep in…that he would be back in a bit. There was something so sweet about knowing I had nowhere to be, no one would bother me, and my only duty in life at that moment was to read the paper and wait on my lover. It was a beautiful day.

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

A concierge who gives you that wink that says he knows what you’re up to and he didn’t see a thing, thank you very much. A certain “hush” that comes with opulence — the kind of muted sound that always reminds me of thick carpets, glistening chandeliers and complimentary martinis in the lobby.

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

The Peabody Hotel in Memphis is simply stunning. The MGM Grand ranks up there, too.

What’s next for you?

On the writing side, I’m writing a few short stories for Black Lace anthologies. I’ve just started on another erotic novel, but I’m taking my time with it. I’m very busy with my freelance business right now.

On the hotel side, which one is next?

Very soon…Hotel California!

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

What?” I was whispering and not sure why, as frozen as the ice chips the shrimp rested on. My eyes met his brown ones over his tilted wineglass, and he smiled at me.

“We’re hiding from what we already know.” He said it with absolute certainty.

I dropped my shrimp fork with a clatter of silver on china. Neither of us noticed.

Is that how it starts? How affairs begin? With a gesture or a word that suddenly turns an old friend into a lover, crying out above you in a rented bed somewhere on the edge of nowhere? Does it always drop out of the blue and explode, fragmenting your life? And then plant itself inside you and grow into beauty, into memories and smiles, building you into something stronger than you were?

For me, with my married lover, there’s a bounce in my step that everyone notices but can’t explain. It comes from pulling up beside a sports car parked outside of a hotel, in a town you’ve never visited before, and going through an open door with the DO NOT DISTURB sign already in place. It comes from there being no time for words before you’re rushed into a dimly lit room and surrounded by his arms, his voice, and his desire. You both collapse onto the bed that has become a refuge.

He’s married. I knew that as I walked out of the restaurant and slid into the passenger seat of his sports car. I heard her name in my head as he drove, one hand on the wheel and one hand on my thigh. I saw her in my head as the hotel room door closed behind us. I listened to her laughing with him as he pressed me back against that door and kissed me. I felt the guilt as I kissed him back, but I wanted him more than I wanted to heed the conscience that was shaking its head in shame.

Lillian Ann Slugocki: The story behind the story

February 17, 2009

:Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories contributor Lillian Ann Slugocki gives the story behind her story, “The St. John’s Hotel, 1890,” on her blog:

I wrote about a frontier woman in a frontier town. It could be any wind swept horizon, anytime one hundred years ago. I like the myth of the self sufficient woman of the wild wild west. Annie Oakley, she got her gun and now you don’t f**k with her. I like the calico skirts and the bonnets, the boots, the wild untameable hair. Her husband died some time ago and now she lives alone on the ranch. She goes into town a couple of times a month for supplies and to have high tea with her BFF at The St. John Hotel. The year is 1890.

Of course she meets a man. A stranger with a long scar on his handsome face. He’s dangerous, in fact he’s a killer. It’s a revision of the Blue Beard story. Girl meets monster and falls in love. The monster kills her, add her to his museum of murdered women. In my version she has combustive sex with him in a tawdry hotel room. He ignites all cylinders. Damn, if she doesn’t find herelf on fire. A forty year old widow with a sunburned face screwing her brains out. She can’t get enough of him.

When the ghost of his last lover appears to her one night, however, and reveals his secret, she escapes out the window, and lives to tell her tale. She’s old now. She still longs for him. She remembers what he did to her body. But she’s older and wiser. She knows better. Better to be alive than enshrined in a mausoleum of beautiful dead women. So its a ghost story, a love story, and a twist on an old favorite story.

Hot hot hot photos from the Do Not Disturb book trailer shoot

January 26, 2009

I had NO idea my friend Stacie Joy took this shot, of a drunken me drifting off to sleep after our wild and crazy (like getting kicked out of an elevator after setting off the alarm and making out) book trailer shoot for Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories. Serious, it was fun and hot. Stacie Joy has an AMAZING set of 113 photos from the shoot, and the best part is some are things I didn’t even get to see, though I heard they were super hot. Check it all out, and stay tuned for the trailer, to debut around Valentine’s Day.

Okay, there are 113 photos and I love all of them, so please check them out and if you like them, well…consider buying my book Do Not Disturb, or just wait for the trailer!

(I like this one because you can also see us in the mirror)

Indian hotels ban sex!

January 20, 2009

This is like a tabloid article, except I don’t think it is. From All News Web:

Ralph and Jo-Anne from Newcastle, Australia married recently and decided to take their honeymoon in a country they had always dreamed of visiting: India.

The two newlyweds decided to play their trip by ear and not book accommodation beforehand. They arrived in Bombay and found a clean but modest place to stay and paid for a week’s worth of accommodation. On their first night in India they celebrated as many young couples do: in the hotel room and by their own admission they were a little loud.

In the morning as they headed off to do some sightseeing the owning motioned towards them and then tapped a pen on a sign near the front desk that clearly said ‘No sex in our rooms please’.
‘We were shocked, but found it a bit funny too’ said Novocastrian plumber Ralph. ‘The only spice in our lives for the next week was in the curry’ joked Jo-Anne, a hairdresser.

Funny as it seems more and more hotel managers and owners in India are banning guests having sex within their establishment. The reasons and motives for the ban include constant complaints from neighbours and other guests, attempts to discourage extra-marital flings and prostitution the highly conservative nation.

Delhi hotel manager Suresh defends the ban ‘Many locals use hotels for adulterous affairs and even sessions with prostitutes and this lowers the hotels reputation, foreigners do not realise that loud noise during relations offends many locals and we receive complaints all the time.’

The good news is that honeymooning couples need not avoid India yet providing they have money to spare. No upmarket international chains have put the ban into place.

‘We still won’t be staying at the Hilton in the near future, we can have all the sex we want back home and it won’t cost us a penny’ concludes Ralph as he tucks into his tasty chicken rezala.