Awkward Sex Scene

[Full story available here: /2013/02/04/shot-in-the-head-whilst-completing-the-holocaust/ Be warned: it is about baby Hitler. This scene is the, er, conception.]

Week 1, day 0
The conference had been a bore. There were four required lectures one had to attend, otherwise one lost one’s job. The lectures had been bores as well. The speakers and the audience in the lecture halls had been bores: everything had been fractally boring.

They lectured about effectiveness and team-building, theory and synergy, middle-management and green-painting; a lot of buzz- and double-words. The conference took place in Gothenburg, at a hotel the company had rented for four days. One were allowed to go outside, for food and tourist attractions, but the schedule could change while one were away, which was a great way to miss a lecture.

Inside the hotel everything was nice but dead. There were faux-antique pillars and a lot of gleaming surfaces. A couple of lamps lit up the place. They shone in mirrors and windows and in small glass containers with ornaments on the sides. Very neat; the carpets were always straight and creaseless, and even when it rained outside, they kept the floor in the lobby clean and shiny.

There was never any movement. There was no circulation affecting the live candles, they could not flicker. If any human stood anywhere conversing, they leaned against walls and appeared motionless. The staff either stood behind the counter without much room in which to manoeuvre, or they were invisible: behind closed doors and on other floors.

So the hotel was nice but dead, like a corpse in make-up. Each of the employees had a room to themselves, and the third night Anna’s room was empty. The night had been good, involving wine and snogging and messy hair, but then she and – uh, Daniel, right? – made … love.

They looked at each other and at each other’s feet, without being able to decide if it was more polite to take off the socks or more sexy to just throw themselves at one another, and that’s where it came to a halt. He could undo her bra very easily, but had problems with actually touching her. His hands got tangled up in her hair. Anna couldn’t undo his shirt-buttons. They managed to put on the condom on the third try, with two minute’s intervals for him to get erect again. In the middle of it he asked if she was on the pill, but she couldn’t hear it; he had to ask two-three more times.

Afterwards Anna started taking her clothes on again, and Daniel wanted her to stay. So they lay there, sleepless, next to each other, half-regretting.