Liberty Inn

Some face-slapping, some rope, a mirrored ceiling, and a lot of orgasms.

Tamora tells me she’s not ambivalent about me, but something’s going on because she cancels the vast majority of our dates. This one, though, she didn’t cancel. Thankfully.

She’d never been to the Liberty Inn before. “Where do you fuck the lucky guys you fuck?” “Their places, mostly, though mine, too, on weekend nights.” We walked the five minutes to the Liberty Inn. She had been to the…

Now. This most decidedly didn’t happen. This was sort of a “study” for the night that is described beginning here. But it gives you a little insight into how I planned the evening – I wrote this the day of…

Véronique went first. So before I say a word, let me observe a couple of moments from the evening that I began describing here, and that she began describing here, that she omitted, whether because they weren’t significant to her,…

When I wrote this discussion of a GQ profile of Deen, we didn’t know him to be a rapist. Or at least, a poor handler of a rape accusation.

The Herald Square Hotel is in midtown Manhattan, convenient to, well, pretty much everything in midtown.  It’s a hotel – a sort of budget hotel, but unlike the Carlton Arms, it caters primarily to grown-ups, and unlike the Liberty Inn,…

This is New York’s preeminent hourly hotel. Their business is hourly, not daily. Their web site proclaims that they are “your rendezvous for romance.”  There’s no pretense it’s otherwise, no shame or secrecy in what they are. Their rates are…