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Table of Contents:
Introduction: Made for Sex (see below)
Welcome on the Aphrodisiac Hotel by Amanda Earl
Tightly Tucked by Alison Tyler
From Russia with Lust by Stan Kent
Mirror, Mirror by by Andrea Dale
The Royalton–A Daray Tale by Tess Danesi
So Simple a Place by Isabelle Gray
Heart-Shaped Holes by Madlyn March
The St. George Hotel, 1890 by Lillian Ann Slugocki
The Lunch Break by Saskia Walker
Memphis by Gwen Masters
The Other Woman by Kristina Wright
Talking Dirty by Shanna Germain
A Room with the Grand by Thomas S. Roche
Tropical Grotto, Winter Storm by Teresa Noelle Roberts
G is for Gypsy by Maxim Jakubowski
Reunion by Lisabet Sarai
Hump Day by Rachel Kramer Bussel
Guilty Pleasure by Elizabeth Coldwell
An Honest Woman by Tenille Brown
Room Service by by Donna George Storey
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 your sheets, whether I have a lover there to share with you in the indulgence when camping or not. Much much more than my very own bed, hotel beds make me horny. They are, or at least, seem to me, being designed for sex.
Hotels provide us with the possibility to unwind, relax, and, as we choose, become someone else. Behind closed doors, were absolve to frolic, fuck, and flaunt ourselves. It makes no difference if the hotel is in a very faraway land or perhaps your personal hometown; the idea is, it's really a clean slate. It's not your home filled with all the reminders of what you could or ought to be doing. Other individuals have fucked and can fuck inside the bed you're about to sleep in; that may be considered a turn-on in and of itself. It's your borrowed space, for an hour, a day, a night, or longer, along with that time, you are able to claim it, control it, utilize it for your individual naughty purposes. Other guests are prowling the hotel, checking in, checking out, banging and getting banged up against the wall. There's a sense that anything can happen--and quite often, it does.
To me, the anonymity of hotel rooms, their personality wiped clean with each new guest, is portion of their appeal. They beckon us using their welcoming ways. They offer some slack in the everyday, a chance to let loose and become someone else. In Usually Do Not Disturb, I wanted to capture the ways hotels fit into our erotic imagination, whether they're absolutely essential or perhaps a luxury. Hotels why don't we explore parts of our passion which get left behind inside rush of daily life.
The authors whose work you're gonna read understand perfectly the allure of your fresh hotel room—or an accommodation lobby. Indeed, the entire atmosphere a hotel offers can simply scream of sex. This applies to five-star and by-the-hour joints. They each have something to add, and here you will discover romps between lovers and strangers, reunions and quickies, since these characters indulge in their new settings.
Many from the characters here use hotels for secrecy, relying for the unspoken code of employees to prevent share what goes on. Others make utilization of them for flirting, for catching their prey. Many need hotels as a way to take part in an affair or a roleplay. Whether exploring Japan's love hotels in Isabelle Gray's "So Simple a Place" or getting "A Room on the Grand" for the very special callgirl, the men and ladies you'll learn about get off on the surroundings. The hotel itself becomes a player in their affair, an indicator with the lengths they'll go to become together.
And this book may not be complete without some extramarital affairs that is only able to happen in hotel rooms, like the lovers in Lisabet Sarai's "Reunion" or Gwen Masters's "Memphis." For these characters, the hotel room represents added meaning for this is surely an ever-changing venue where their relationships grow, where they are able to savor one another's bodies without their spouses knowing, or so they hope.
Hotel rooms may also be ideal for quickies, those fast fucks that you simply really need one hour approximately for, made all the greater arousing for their brevity. In Saskia Walker's "The Lunch Break," a sultry waitress pounces over a diner, along with my "Hump Day," a few shed their business personae once weekly being the form of people they can not be (or fuck) at home.
Even in the more innocent stories here, the vacation sex, the getaways among couples, there's something just just a little clandestine about these hotel room hookups. That air of perversion is one thing that makes getting serviced in the hotel (or motel) infinitely sweeter than carrying it out anywhere else. It's a personal strategy for being an exhibitionist, of leaving the staff and fellow guests guessing (or parading around in your hotel robes). Sometimes it's really a neighbor who'll lure you from your safety of the relationship, for example the lesbian who teaches Madlyn March's protagonist a thing or two in "Heart-Shaped Holes," or just how Elizabeth Coldwell's fellow jurors wind up relieving some tension between trial time.
There's expensive hotels in New York, the Library Hotel, that has long intrigued me. They produce an Erotica Suite, filled with strawberries, whipped cream, red roses, erotic dice, Mionetto Presecca, edible honey dust, as well as a Kama Sutra pocket guide. They're upfront of their intention which you truly savor their package, also as your lover's. I've never stayed there, or done over pass by. In some ways, I prefer to hold its beauty safely tucked away during my imagination, the type of room I'd use having a rich lover from away from town who'd seduce me together with his or her accent, whisper in my experience inside a foreign tongue before taking that foreign tongue and licking me all over. That's one more thing about hotel rooms: they're perfect to fantasize about. In them, along with your dreams about them, it can be done to have any kind of sex with anyone (or everyone) you want.
I can inform you the sex I've been on hotel rooms may be some in the hottest of my life. I purchase off on knowing that neighbors may hear me, as well as in fact, that can bring the exhibitionist in me. The sexiest porn director I know involved to his college accommodation in Manhattan one evening even though his porn star girlfriend was elsewhere, we indulged in one with the most dirty, powerful, delicious fucks That i have ever had, and when he came all over my chest, I reveled in it. I didnrrrt wash it off, either, but proudly let it dry on my skin and couldn't stop the smile that found its approach to my lips because i took the subway home.
Once, in certain random seedy L.A. hotel, another lover and that i hadn't brought any condoms, and instead had to create do which has a paddle and a butt plugæpoor us. In a seedy Midtown motel, I spent several hours romping which has a very sexy child who showed me all kinds of ways I can twist my body to extend my pleasure, then felt a shocked, naughty thrill as they entered the restroom while I peed and watched me before dipping his fingers in to the stream. Something I likely wouldn't have allowed at home became acceptable in a very place I'd likely never find myself again. And when I'm in a very college accommodation by myself, tucked away underneath the sheets, Personally i think naughty and decadent, regardless of whether the only party guests I'm hosting are my fingers and my pussy.
While I doubt hotels are going to get stocking this book within their dresser drawers alongside The Bible, I really hope who's finds its way into hotel romps. I picture lovers reading aloud to a single another as they get able to mark their hotel room, or within the afterglow, perhaps leaving it behind for that next lucky guest. I am hoping hotel staff spirit it away and see clearly throughout their downtime. I am hoping the following time you enter an accommodation lobby, even when you've got no intention to getting busy with anyone you will likely find there, you will at least see the many erotic possibilities that greet you.
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