The hotel is a blank slate for whatever sorts of perversion a person wants to explore. The hotel is a neutral space, apart from the home, where any sort of activity can be permitted.
The hotel is a place where clandestine affairs can happen. Casual lovers can spend an hour, or a night, or a lost weekend, away from the concerns of their lives, away from uncomfortable questions about their activities.
The hotel is a place where a married man can fuck another man. He can fuck his secretary. He can order up a cavalcade of prostitutes like pizzas. They will come right up the elevator and tap on his door.
The hotel is the stand-in for the part of the household where all of the sexual things happen—the bed, the bath, the lounge chair, the desk—but cleared of the familiar. Your lover will no be lying down in the mattress dent left by your wife.
The hotel is a place for kink to happen. Two seeming normal individuals can travel up to the room, looking all about business, peel off their pressed suits, and reveal entire outfits of latex. They can pull whips and dildos the size of horse cocks out of their suitcases, and nobody will be the wiser. The hotel doesn’t (or shouldn’t) have any eyes.
Of course, not all hotels are built the same. Some have rather thin walls, or poorly insulated doors dividing the rooms. A surreptitious ear and cup pressed to the wall can uncover all kinds of illicit and sordid indulgences.
Chronic voyeurs, and serial masturbators are encouraged to live out their dirtiest moments, stroking themselves to the sound of creaking bed springs in the next room. They are encouraged to knock out rope after rope of hot cum, listening to the play by play of naughty conversations next door.
Daddy and daughter? Nasty nurse? Maybe the man next door likes being humiliated and cuckolded. Maybe he and his wife pick up strangers at the bar and take them back to the room. He watches, while she fucks and sucks. He jerks off, while she bangs two men at a time, across the room on the bed.
The voyeur, taking his pleasure by extension, gets off on the moaning and pounding he hears through the wall. It is a chain of pleasure. It is an entire economy of sexuality supported by the kinky act of renting a hotel room in the first place. If you’re looking to switch things up, go rent a room today!
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