Posts Tagged ‘smut’

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 (http://jeffersonhotel.com/) 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 www.kristinawright.com

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?

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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 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.

812-400-267

342-284-190

334-284-228
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 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, www.DonnaGeorgeStorey.com.

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?”

Beds.

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 www.thomasroche.com 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.

“Made for Sex” – introduction to Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories

November 20, 2008

I’m so thrilled that the contents of Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories just got finalized. I’ll post the Table of Contents here soon, but for now, I can share my introduction to the book (it may get tweaked a little in copyediting, but I couldn’t resist):

Introduction: Made for Sex

Hotel rooms are, in a word, hot. The minute I enter one, I want to strip off all my clothes and dive naked between the sheets, whether I have a lover there to share in the indulgence with me or not. Much more so than my own bed, hotel beds make me horny. They are, or at least, seem to me, to be made for sex.

Hotels give us the chance to unwind, relax, and, if we choose, become someone else. Behind closed doors, we are free to frolic, fuck, and flaunt ourselves. It doesn’t matter whether the hotel is in a faraway land or in your own hometown; the point is, it’s a clean slate. It’s not your home filled with all the reminders of what you could or should be doing. Other people have fucked and will fuck in the bed you’re about to sleep in; that can be a turn-on in and of itself. It’s your borrowed space, for an hour, a day, a night, or longer, and in that time, you can claim it, control it, use it for your own naughty purposes. Other guests are prowling the hotel, checking in, checking out, banging and getting banged against the wall. There’s a sense that anything can happenæand quite often, it does.

To me, the anonymity of hotel rooms, their personality wiped clean with each new guest, is part of their appeal. They beckon us with their welcoming ways. They offer an escape from the everyday, a chance to let loose and become someone else. In Do Not Disturb, I wanted to capture the ways hotels fit into our erotic imagination, whether they’re a necessity or a luxury. Hotels let us explore parts of our passion that get left behind in the rush of daily life.

The authors whose work you are about to read understand perfectly the allure of a fresh hotel roomæor a hotel lobby. Indeed, the entire atmosphere a hotel offers can simply scream of sex. This goes for five-star and by-the-hour joints. They each have something to add, and here you’ll find romps between lovers and strangers, reunions and quickies, as these characters indulge in their new settings.

Many of the characters here use hotels for secrecy, relying on the unspoken code of employees to never share what goes on. Others use them for flirting, for catching their prey. Many need a hotel room in order to engage in an affair or a roleplay. Whether exploring Japan’s love hotels in Isabelle Gray’s “So Simple a Place” or getting “A Room at the Grand” for a very special callgirl, the men and women you’ll read about get off on their surroundings. The hotel itself becomes a player in their affair, a sign of the lengths they’ll go to be together.

And this book wouldn’t be complete without some extramarital affairs that can only happen in hotel rooms, like the lovers in Lisabet Sarai’s “Reunion” or Gwen Masters’s “Memphis.” For these characters, the hotel room takes on added meaning for it is an ever-changing venue where their relationships grow, where they can savor each other’s bodies without their spouses knowing, or so they hope.

Hotel rooms are also perfect for quickies, those fast fucks that you only need an hour or so for, made all the more arousing for their brevity. In Saskia Walker’s “The Lunch Break,” a sultry waitress pounces on a diner, and in my “Hump Day,” a couple shed their business personae once a week to become the kind of people they could never be (or fuck) at home.

Even in the more innocent stories here, the vacation sex, the getaways among couples, there’s something just a little clandestine about these hotel room hookups. That air of perversion is what makes getting serviced in a hotel (or motel) infinitely sweeter than doing it anywhere else. It’s a private way of being an exhibitionist, of leaving the staff and fellow guests guessing (or parading around in your hotel robes). Sometimes it’s a neighbor who’ll lure you from the safety of your relationship, such as the lesbian who teaches Madlyn March’s protagonist a thing or two in “Heart-Shaped Holes,” or the way Elizabeth Coldwell’s fellow jurors wind up relieving some tension in between trial time.

There’s a hotel in New York, the Library Hotel, that has long intrigued me. They offer an Erotica Suite, filled with strawberries, whipped cream, red roses, erotic dice, Mionetto Presecca, edible honey dust, and a Kama Sutra pocket guide. They’re upfront in their intention that you truly savor their package, as well as your lover’s. I’ve never stayed there, or done more than pass by. In some ways, I prefer to keep its beauty safely tucked away in my imagination, the kind of room I’d use with a rich lover from out of town who’d seduce me with his or her accent, whisper to me in a foreign tongue before taking that foreign tongue and licking me all over. That’s another thing about hotel rooms: they are perfect to fantasize about. In them, and in your dreams about them, you can have any kind of sex with anyone (or everyone) you want.

I can tell you that the sex I’ve had in hotel rooms has been some of the hottest of my life. I get off on knowing that neighbors may hear me, and in fact, that brings out the exhibitionist in me. The sexiest porn director I know took me to his hotel room in Manhattan one night and while his porn star girlfriend was elsewhere, we indulged in one of the most dirty, powerful, delicious fucks I’ve ever had, and when he came all over my chest, I reveled in it. I didn’t wash it off, either, but proudly let it dry on my skin and couldn’t stop the smile that found its way to my lips as I took the subway home.

Once, in some random seedy L.A. hotel, another lover and I hadn’t brought any condoms, and instead had to make do with a paddle and a butt plugæpoor us. In a seedy Midtown motel, I spent a few hours romping with a very sexy young man who showed me all kinds of ways I could twist my body to extend my pleasure, then felt a shocked, naughty thrill as he entered the bathroom while I peed and watched me before dipping his fingers into the stream. Something I likely wouldn’t have allowed at home became acceptable in a place I’d likely never find myself again. And when I’m in a hotel room by myself, tucked away under the sheets, I feel naughty and decadent, even if the only party guests I’m hosting are my fingers and my pussy.

While I doubt hotels are going to be stocking this book in their dresser drawers alongside The Bible, I hope that it finds its way into hotel romps. I picture lovers reading aloud to one another as they get ready to mark their hotel room, or in the afterglow, perhaps leaving it behind for the next lucky guest. I hope hotel staff spirit it away and read it during their downtime. I hope the next time you enter a hotel lobby, even if you have no intention of getting busy with anyone you may find there, that you’ll at least notice the many erotic possibilities that greet you.

My most recent hotel rendezvous was at the ultra-fancy art-filled Chambers Hotel in Minneapolis. I was staying by myself for two nights, and while I didn’t share my bed, the room itself beckoned to me. I found myself getting horny as I dove between the covers, wishing I had a lover to share my good fortune with. Now I have this book, which I hope you’ll take with you on your travels, perhaps read it while lounging in a hotel lobby, or whisper from it into your lover’s ear before you make so much noise in your hotel room bed that someone calls security. However and wherever you read this book, I hope it turns you on as much as it does me.

Rachel Kramer Bussel
New York City