Copyright 2012, 2020 Lisa Summers
Good writers will often visit various locales to do research for a story, or novel.
Lesbian erotica writers are no different.
And so it was that I found myself in my '89 Mustang, nearing this small, but surprisingly well-known town on the banks of the Colorado River, named after some pointed rocks on the other side of the river. The drive from Colorado had been long and tiring, and I was ready for some rest. Instead of staying at a chain hotel, though, I wanted a little of Needles' Route 66 heritage to seep inside me - so what better place to stay than the 66 Motel, a little six room motel off old Route 66?
I had read a blurb about the motel years before, and it sounded perfect as a starting point for my intended sweeping epic novel about California lesbians in the 1940s, with an arc starting in small town California, and concluding in Los Angeles and San Francisco, as the two cities boomed during the glitz and glamor of the post WW II era. If I could get some flavor of those old days from some old timers in the town, it might make my project perfect.
After taking the East Broadway Street exit off I-40 in Needles, just over the state line from Arizona, I pulled into the paved driveway of the tiny establishment, old but still quaint, with a vintage neon sign that was so evocative of the whole 'Route 66' mystique. I had a really good feeling about my project with such a retro start.
I entered the 'office,' a small room piled up with paperwork on virtually every single flat surface. I found myself face to face with a girl of around twenty three, attractive and completely out of place with the otherwise dated surroundings. She looked a little butch, with the way she was dressed, but her face and body were fem. She had a small tat of a girl riding a bucking bronco on her forearm.
"Hi, my name's Lisa, Lisa Summers," I said, now definitely interested in at least one aspect of the 66 Motel. "I wanted to stay here, and soak up some of the whole history thing. Do you have any rooms available?"
"Oh goodness, no," the girl said. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Mahi Patel," she said, extending her hand. She had the glossiest, thickest long black hair that I've ever seen, fair features, deep green eyes, perfect white teeth, long lashes, lovely, full breasts and hips, she was nearly as tall as me - about 5' 6", and dressed in what I find to be one of the most exciting looks for a woman: long sleeved blue work shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, and dusty, tight boot cut jeans showing off the perfect curve of her ass.
Her grip was firm and strong, the grip of a girl who works outside - a lot.
Her smile was dazzling against her fine olive coloring. I could feel a pleasant tingle in my clit as we talked. I had not expected anything like that on a research trip, but shouldn't we enjoy the pleasurable pain of a crush wherever we find it? If nothing else, her features would give me something to think about during my next long bath.
"This hasn't been a motel for nearly twenty years," she said, her hand lingering on mine. "The rooms are used for welfare housing. I'm so sorry."
"Ohh," I responded, a little disappointed. "Well, could you recommend a motel near here that is still a motel, one from the 40s? Preferably one with nice bathrooms? I'm a little tired from the trip."
"Where are you from?" she asked. I found my eyes fixing on her soft, full lips and the tip of her small, pink tongue - I'm sure that was just a residue of my fatigue.
"Uh, Fort Morgan, Colorado. I'm a writer and I'm doing a story on social relationships in California during the 1940s. Since Needles was so busy then as an entry point to California, what with Route 66, I thought it would be a great place to start. Unfortunately, I foolishly decided to make the drive in one shot."
"How long were you driving?" she asked, her voice both musical and throaty.
"Fourteen hours," I replied. She winced.
"You must be completely worn out," she said. "Unfortunately, this is the week we're holding the Colorado River Round Up, and you might have trouble finding a room here in Needles."
"River Round Up? What's that?" I asked, feeling like an amateur at the whole 'research' thing.
"Oh gosh, what isn't it?" she said, laughing. "Parade, dance, rodeo, pancake breakfast, crafts fair - it's a real big deal for this little town."
"Well, I guess I'd better start calling around," I said. "I hate to impose - do you know of any kind of lodging that might be available?"
Mahi thought for a moment, then said, "Let me try a few places." She got on the phone, but after placing about a dozen calls, she hung the phone up slowly and said, "I am really sorry, but there's nothing."
"I appreciate your looking and calling around," I said. "I guess tonight I can sleep in my car. Tomorrow I'll make better arrangements."
Mahi looked at me thoughtfully, and said, "Would you be okay with sleeping in somebody's house?"
"Sure," I said. "Gosh, I even sleep in a house sometimes when I'm not on the road." Mahi giggled.
"I've got some room, although I'm kind of messy. Oh, and I've got two cats. If you don't mind, I could put you up for the night..."
"I adore cats," I said. "And messy's not a problem - wait, you haven't been featured on one of those 'hoarders' reality shows, have you?"
"Noooo," Mahi said. "But I think my father thinks I could qualify for their waiting list."
"Right now, anything would be great, and I really appreciate the offer," I said.
"Good, then I can close up here - there's really nothing to do, and go get you settled in." She hugged me, and I could feel the love - she was really sweet and kind. It didn't hurt that she was attractive and sooo hot, too. She gave me the funniest look, though, when we separated.