My one-night stand was rudely interrupted by his friend with a cheeky question

Walking out of the hotel, I was suddenly aware that I had no clue where I was.

Last night everything had been so exciting when the tall, dark and handsome stranger had invited me back to his room.

Now it was a freezing cold November morning in Cologne, Germany and I had no money on me for a taxi and a dead phone battery, leaving me with no choice but to do the walk of shame.

You might think I’d be embarrassed by this, but after the night I’d had, it didn’t even come close.

Towards the end of 2019, my friends and I had booked a girls trip to explore the Christmas markets and city. 

We loved strolling around the wooden huts that were laden with fairy lights, sipping mulled wine and perusing everything from festive fudge to lederhosen – though it quickly became clear that my GCSE in German was less than no use when it came to haggling prices or reading menus.

Still we wanted to make the most of our time there, which is how we found ourselves in a German karaoke bar in Cologne’s music district.

With a wooden interior, dark except for the colourful disco lights beaming purple all around, the bar reminded us of a winter wonderland. We wasted no time in scrolling through the song options and selecting one each. I had opted for my classic – Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl – and was eagerly awaiting my turn when I locked eyes with a stranger at the bar.

He was tall, lean and had a jawline that could cut glass. I was instantly attracted to him.

As we moved closer to the bar – and by proxy, him – I noticed he looked a bit like Roger Federer, which only made me fancy him even more. Though, to make things funnier, his friend looked like the spitting image of one of my friend’s ex-boyfriends, Ed*! 

With some Dutch courage in me, I slid next to him and batted my eyelashes – a lovely English rose. Surely he couldn’t turn me down?

Roger – as I’ve affectionately nicknamed him – and I really hit it off after that. We were both on city breaks with our friends, and got talking about the wonders of Luxembourg and England, both of us with a glimmer in our eyes. I was desperate for something to happen between us.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long before we shared a romantic kiss as someone annihilated Living on a Prayer on the microphone in the background. Luckily, my friends are the wing-women of the century and offered to ‘distract’ the friend should I want to go and serve Roger a strong forehand at his hotel, if you catch my drift.

After my stint on the mic, he suggested he and I make the party a bit more private. I was more than happy to oblige.

We got a cab back to the hotel, locking lips the entire way. Things were steamy, dreamy – everything I love about a foreign holiday romance. 

Roger and his friends were staying in a beautiful hotel – much nicer than our triple single-bedded Airbnb room, which put me at further ease. This wasn’t my first holiday pull, so I wasn’t nervous – and I figured any walk of shame would be better than the back-to-hotel naked walk following a sea ‘swim’ and a clothes robbery in Ibiza a few years prior…

Back at the hotel things got hot and heavy, fast. I’ll spare you all the details, but let’s just say it was a grand slam indeed. Or at least it was, right up until the bedroom door flung open and his friend Ed stumbled in.

Roger and I froze mid-stroke and an awkward tension filled the air. 

I would have thought Ed would have said sorry, turned on his heels and left us to it. But no. He just stood there.

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, he smiled and said: ‘Mind if I join in?’

Now, in hindsight, I wish I’d said yes. It would have been an experience. But at the time, I thought: ‘No way. I can’t have sex with Ed, too!’ I was putting myself out there enough in a foreign country with a man I didn’t know, so ultimately, it was an offer which I, politely, declined.

Still not getting the hint to leave though, Ed stayed in the room. The mood between me and Roger was gone.

I would have got up, dressed and left the hotel but it was 3am and, as I’d now discovered that my phone had died, I had no way to get back to my Airbnb safely. 

‘You can stay here, it’s no trouble,’ said Roger. The only problem was, there was only one king size bed.

So, whether reluctantly or not, Ed climbed into the sex ridden sheets with Roger and I, and the three of us, with me in the middle, just, slept together. 

The next morning, Roger and I politely exchanged numbers, knowing we would not speak again. I clumsily retrieved all my things and bolted for the door, leaving the boys in their bed.

Not sure where I was, I had to head for the only landmark I could make out which was the cathedral. It was, at best, a 30 minute walk away, and around an hour later I finally made it back to my friends.

As soon as they saw me, they hounded me for all the details of my night. But all I wanted to know was why hadn’t they kept Ed busier for longer!

‘He was so annoying!’ one of them explained. ‘We just had to kick him out.’

They also said that they had texted me to warn me of Ed’s imminent arrival but said: ‘To be honest we thought you’d be done by then!’

‘We weren’t even close!’ I laughed.

Roger and I never spoke again, and while our love affair was brief (too brief), I’ll always remember it fondly.

If nothing else, it taught me the importance of having a phone on full charge and locking the door, tight!

*Names have been changed

As told to Emma Rossiter