Literature In Los Angeles


In LITERARY FICTION on March 2, 2010 at 1:38 pm

Sunset Strip, Hollywood

Each floor is fitted with its own art installation and if you look inside you can see the beginning of The Simpsons on a loop.

You breeze through the lobby and head straight out to the hotel bar.  

C to F list actors float around in the pool while the B list eats on the terrace below the pool.

The A list owns houses in the area and will put up a wayward relative, but the A list usually comes to the hotel only for its fabulous parties.

I stand behind the desk and apologize for the elevators not working properly. I also sneak down to the smoking area on P2 to light a cig of my own.

I’ve never worked in a hotel with anything better than an AAA rating. This hotel has four stars.

The women are powerful and sexy.
That short little Latina cutie comes to mind, what’s her name, oh yea, Salma Hayek; she’s not here today, but there are others.

Of course we always have the brainless floozies on a free ride.
A lot of hookers but only one male stud, this season.

It’s early spring but the sun is blasting away at us up here on the Sunset Strip.

Around the middle of my shift, my name is put in a hat and tossed about with other co-workers’ names; then, our manager picks a name and reads the name and he is purposely not telling us the name and he crumples up the paper and puts it in his pocket and finally says my name.

I’m the page and have to deliver packages that have not been picked up.


101 Dirty Hot Hotel Stories by Jack Appleford


Most of the rooms are empty; others answer their door rather quickly and give me a dollar and I move on.

I come to one room where some girls are laughing and giggling and the TV is turned up so loud and I think I hear them tell me to come in; so I do.

They’re gorgeous body lies twisted on the bed.
They’re still eating each other out and I try to keep it “business like” and deliver the package.

Brunette tells me there should be three packages for a good time. Her accent is thick and I don’t understand, so I get a little closer and hope to understand.

She tells me again that she needs three packages to have a good time. She says she has two and only needs one more.

I understand all of the sudden. I hand her the Fed Ex, ask for a signature.
I tell her this is the only package she’s getting from me.

The scent of sweat and pussy are all over the room. Their serpen-teen bodies are glistening and writhing a little, still.

Brunette laughs and says she’ll sign for it and while she signs her Blondie friend starts to stroke my pants and I’ve already got a raging hard on.
Hotel creeds fly through my mind and while I’m trying to think of an answer she has my cock out and is jacking me off.
Brunette slaps her hand hitting my cock too and she lets go.
I turn and put my cock back in my pants and leave and remind myself not to get too close to the animals.

I continue on to deliver packages and come back to the front desk to tell my story to the staff.

They tell me it’s no big deal.
One of the bellmen is upstairs fucking somebody he just met.
The maids are fucking each other in the maids’ closets and in the spare rooms and filming it, sometimes, for porn sites.
It’s amazing any of the rooms get cleaned. They get paid more for fucking than they do for cleaning the rooms.

I’m told that I really don’t know the half of it and to just fucking relax and keep my mouth shut and the show will go on.
I tell them OK.
They tell me the show has been going on for 10 years now.

Nothing makes sense but then the phone rings and somebody comes up to the desk.

I stand there and zone out in the restaurant entrance.
Some girls wave at me from the lobby; they’re dressed in hot pants and bikini tops. I realize it’s the girls from upstairs and they make a funny hand motion; my co-worker sees it and laughs. They go out to the pool.

The pool sparkles and bodies splash around. Somebody has an alligator floatie.
There is a topless woman in the shallow end with floaties and really big sunglasses on. Her drink is kind of floating too, in a weird way.
She holds it just under the water and will tell you it keeps her drink cold.

I get off work, go home and masturbate.

Story by Jack Appleford.


Short story from 101 Dirty Hot Hotel Stories by Jack Appleford.
The full book is available on Kindle or Kindle Application for Smartphones.

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