Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen*

Well that was a fun weekend. One of our major suppliers invited us, and about 30 others from all over the country (plus one from Iceland) to a weekend in Copenhagen. We were to see a show in the famous Tivoli Gardens, followed by a meal in one of the finest restaurants in town on Saturday, then a product presentation and some marketing talk on the Sunday. However, knowing the two sales directors as we do, there was certain to be drink involved…

We were to meet in the hotel bar at three. Check-in at the hotel was from two onwards and we were in good time. We took the 11 o’clock flight to Copenhagen, caught the Metro into town and had a beer and a bite to eat on ’Nyhavn’, the harbour area which teems with pavement cafes and street entertainment.



Then we took a leisurely walk along ’Strøget’ the famous pedestrian street, which still gave us plenty of time to get checked in, so we could unpack and freshen up and still have time for a quick fuck if we were lucky.

We were unlucky. The rooms weren’t ready at two but the party was already starting in the bar. In the following 14 hours there would be a drink in front of us all the time, except when we were in the theatre.

I started to take stock of the surroundings: Erotic photos on the wall (all very tasteful, though), an outside terrace with divans and giant two-, three- or four-person bean-bags. This wallpaper around the bar.



And a communal ladies/gents toilets which boasted a round terazzo wash basin in the middle of the room and, the first time I have ever seen such a thing, a sex-toy vending machine with a selection of dildoes, cock rings, ticklers, anal beads and nipple clamps. I had the distinct impression that this was little more than a high-class knocking-shop.








Click for a bigger picture if you want!



By the time we finally got our rooms there was only just enough time to wash and change before we set off for Tivoli on foot, just across the town hall square. We arrived in good time for the variety show we were to see so a closed-off section of a nearby cafeteria was commandeered and more drinks were brought forth. Again, after the performance, taxis had been ordered to take us to the restaurant where we were going to dine that evening, but we had about 40 minutes in hand, so back to the bar we went for beer and grappa.

The restaurant was superb. From the white asparagus mousse with tiny cubes of smoked ham and croutons, to the venison with foie gras, truffles and field mushrooms, to the white chocolate panna cotta. Six courses of culinary bliss with a different wine for each course.

Then, by way of contrast, and because the night was still young, we walked a couple of blocks and tried a couple of scruffy bars, looking for one with a bit of life, until we squeezed into one where a guitarist was performing. We eventually found seats for us all and, fuelled by our increasing beer consumption, were joining in all the songs at full volume whether we remembered the words or not. Drink was taken, as were embarrassing photographs.

The bar closed at 2am, ridiculously early to my way of thinking. Fortunately there were cycle taxis on hand to convey us to ’Copenhagen’s number one night spot’. If you have never tried it, I can heartily recommend this as a way of getting from a to b when you’re drunk. You sit in a little carrier in front of the driver with your bum almost scraping the ground and go tearing around at breakneck speed through the crowds of people. I thought the bell was a little bit inadequate as a warning when weaving in and out of groups of revellers lurching into your path, so I took to yelling ”DAKKKADAKKKADAKKKADAKKKKA!” just as we seemed to be about to run them down.

So for the first time in years, Mr and Mrs Controller went CLUBBING! And it was brilliant! We didn’t get back to the hotel until first light. I stripped off as soon as we got in the room and threw myself down on the bed. Heather went into the bathroom and when she got out, undressed, I was spread out across the bed in a big X. She started at the foot of the bed and slithered her way up me like a snake until my cock just popped into her mouth. It slowly got hard and, surprisingly given the state of me, it stayed hard. I don’t remember too much detail but it all ended with her crouching on the bed with her bum jutting out off the end and me standing behind her ramming her so that the breath was coming out of her in little staccato cries.

We made it down to breakfast that morning. Just. We had also plenty of time after the meeting that morning to explore Copenhagen. However, I was so shattered that I could quite happily have slept until we had to go to the airport. I should have asked if the hotel rented out rooms by the hour.

They probably did.




Almost forgot the obligatory picture of our JBFI hotel bed!




*A virtual prize to the first person to identify where that quote comes from.