Reprise: A Hot Night In Dusseldorf

I was sure this blog entry was still posted but I was reminded of it last night whilst unable to ignore the sounds of passion in an adjacent room in this hotel. It put me in mind of a similar experience I had whilst in Dusseldorf a few years ago, which I shall now recount, since the original post seems to have disappeared.

I was in Dusseldorf in a small hotel down a quiet and pleasant backstreet. My room was minimalist: chrome-steel, glass, white walls, poster pictures of poppies.
I hadn't done very much that evening. I had mooched down by the river, had a couple of beers in the biergarten and eaten a passable steak.

And now it was bedtime. Amazingly, it was warm and I had to open the window to let in some fresh air. The scents of early summer wafted in and kindled a myriad of interesting and exciting atmospheres inside me in various places. My limbic system was havign a field day on the unconscious recognition of links to childhood summers, adolescent tumblings and the excitement of exploration of adult holidays.

I read my book. It was an interesting book about various complicated relationships but mostly about a troubled young man and his father. I prefer books about relationships, especially when the author is perceptive enough of feelings to set out the nuances of interplay between people or within themselves. It is so much more interesting to read than exciting plots or action sequences. Tension can be built from emotions as well as from events.

And so, after a few chapters, I started feeling sleepy. So, I put my book down and turned off the light. Thats when it started:
"Ohhh.. Gott! Ohhhhh!!!" A female voice from next door.
"Hmm.." I thought "A lucky couple on this summer's night! I quite empathise with the feeling!" Warm summer weather does have the effect of kindling the passions I find.
I felt suddenly very alone, restless and incredibly envious of them in their intimacy.

And so it went on, noisily and passionately from the room next door. And on.. and on...
And I thought "Crikey! That bloke has some stamina! That must be over an hour now!"
Then it subsided. For a while. Until: "Ohhh!! Jaaaaa!!"

Another hour or so....
I wondered what manner of superman was in the next room! I tried to picture him. Was he some kind of Ron Jeremy, all hugely endowed and moustachioed? Was is some cool young stud, muscular, lithe and smiling smugly whilst in complete control of the situation?

This was impossible! No man could go on pleasuring a woman that long! Its physically unfeasable! And she must surely be wearing thin after these hours!
My mind skirted away, vaguely intimidated by what it pictured and eventually I fell asleep to the groans and moans and hyena-like howls.

In the morning, bleary eyed, I dressed and went down to breakfast. The girl was coming out of her room with not a shred of embarrassment, but a lightness of step (I thought she must surely be walking like John Wayne after that!) and a huge smile. No hint of tiredness could be perceived in her expression.
She shot me a confident but perfunctory "Morgen" before turning and walking down the corridor. She looked cute, about 25, jeans, white linen shirt. No sex goddess but certainly very comfortable in her own skin.

At breakfast, she sat on the other side of the room from me and I waited eagerly to see who would accompany her. Obviously, whoever it was deservedly, was having a lie-in.
And then her partner appeared.

I was struck firstly by the statuesque nature of the breasts as she entered the room. She saw her lover and beamed. Over she went to the elfin girl and sat down . They kissed a short but affectionate kiss.
And that is when, for a moment, I decided:
It must be good to be a woman.