Flash Fiction: The Celebrity Doorknob Affair

Source: Erica Faith, Photographer

by LJ Frank

We walked into the hotel room and began unpacking. There were French doors on the opposite side of the entrance leading to a narrow private patio with a metal railing. The patio overlooked a narrow brick road.

“Did you tell your friend you were out of town on business?”

“Yeah, did you tell yours?”

“What do you think? Wait!”


“Did you touch the doorknob on the French door to the right?” Andrée asked in an anxious voice as I stood by the doors looking outside.

“Yeah, why?”

“Don’t you know?”


“This is the room!”

“The room?”

“A certain female celebrity we saw at the Italian restaurant yesterday and who starred in that steamy, erotic x-rated film we saw later after dinner not only stayed in this room, but, the lustful doorknob scene was filmed in this room.”

”Are you sure?”

“Jesus! Yes. And, it was directed by that sexy film director, what’s his name.”

I looked around the room and tried to visualize the scene.

“Those delightfully lewd scenes in the film occurred in this very room and in particular so much was having to do with the doorknob you just touched”

I gazed at the doorknob. “Is that why you wanted to stay the night in this room?”

“I realized after seeing the room and the doorknob that this actually was the room, plus I asked the concierge who told me when we checked in after he heard our room number from the hotel clerk. He appeared quite personable with raised eyebrows and a slight smirk.”


“Did you feel any sensation when you touched it?”

“Why would I feel a sensation? It’s just a doorknob.”.

“It’s not just any doorknob. Why don’t you lean over and smell it.”

“You want me to smell the doorknob? Gross!”


“Okay…” I leaned over and smelled the doorknob. “Nothing. No fragrance or odor. The knobs on both doors were probably cleaned by room service.” 

“Room service never cleans doorknobs. God she was so hot in that film. I’ve never seen a doorknob used so creatively. It made me think.”

“It did?” I grinned.

Andrée walked over to me and then whispered in my ear.

“Why are you speaking in German?…What?…A hardware store?”

“You’ll see.”

“Hopefully they’re still open. Give me thirty minutes.”

Thirty minutes later I returned with a bag full of the things she wanted. Andrée greeted me dressed in a kinky black outfit and wearing stiletto heels.

“Wonderful! Oh honey, thank you,” she said taking the bag. “Meanwhile, don’t say another word. Slip this blindfold over your eyes for a few minutes. I’ll undress you and don’t be surprised with the sensual spirit of the doorknob emanating the room. And afterwards…well…you’ll see.”

The next morning after checking out we got into the car and while on the outskirts of the city Andrée placed her hand on my thigh and squeezed. She looked over at me and smiled, “Do you think the hotel will notice I changed the doorknob? They match perfectly. I wonder if I can find her…and get her to autograph it?”