The time I went to a sex show; solo

As soon as it was decided that we would be visiting Amsterdam, I had made up my mind that I would see a sex show. Not a ping pong show, not some strip show with various dance acts – the real deal. I wanted to see some P in V action. I had to experience it for myself.

Surely enough the time rolled around. For various reasons, it ended up with me rolling solo. I was not all together uncomfortable about this – I figured it would be dark and dingy anyway, and I would just melt into the crowd and slump in my seat, watching like a voyeur the wonders that would unfold before me. Although I drew the line at flicking my bean in public, I was certain that I’d feel SOMETHING – surely you can’t watch people have sex in front of you and not feel a pang of shivers, or a throbbing of pleasure, at least to some degree… right?

Wow. Boy was I in for a surprise.

The line up

The previous nights I scoped out the Red Light District and due to the massive line up and copious amounts of internet research, I decided to head to the infamous Casa Rosso. The website boasted a tasteful affair and although the line spanned for hundreds of meters, I rationalised that if I turned up at 7.30pm, I would dodge the riff-raff and be waved right in, sans boisterous crowd, where I could find a back seat and slink down to enjoy the show.

I had heard that the show consisted of short acts (extremely classy acts, the website promised), which repeated on hourly cycles. I knew that regardless of how hot and flustered I became, I would be in and hour within an hour. I was genuinely tingling with excitement…

Until I arrived at the venue…

I took my place in the line behind a group of Asian men and within minutes I was paying for my ticket. A disgusting, hairy, obese man winked and me, handed me a penis lolly-pop and told me not to bite it. I assured him that I knew my way around a dick, and when he asked me to ‘prove it’ I should have guessed that I was in for a seedy evening.

Finding your seat

Like a broadway show on the West End, you were only allowed in between acts. The theatre was much smaller than I had in my head and because of the nature of the rolling show, and the people coming and going once they had seen enough, you kind of just slunk in and found a spot where ever you could. The only problem was, the chairs (those foldy types that need to be held down with the weight of an ass) were placed so closely together, you couldn’t get through without people standing up to let you pass. You see the awkwardness here, right? Instead of stealthily trying to sneak in, I had to politely ask three Asian women and a couple to stand up so I could find a seat. The man from the couple winked at me. It was feeling seedier by the minute, assisted by the dull red lighting flooding the space, giving everyone a guilty glow.

Show time

Before I knew what was happening, the lights were dimmed further and the curtain was drawn to reveal a man, kneeling, completely naked, beating himself off as a woman kneeled in front of him in a bra and panties. It all happened very quickly but suddenly a round disk-like mini stage, on the stage, rose into the air and started slowly spinning – it was the Lazy Susan concept I had heard so much about! I couldn’t believe my eyes. They were going down on each other as the disk slowly spun, making sure everyone got a good view of all their angels. At one completely surreal moment, the guy looked out into the audience, winked, and said, ‘heyyy’ with a bit of a wave, as he was getting sucked off by the now naked woman. Next minute, she pulls a tube of lube out from goodness-knows-where… and it was on…

But the most bizarre part for me? No, not the part where they started humping to the beat of the techno song that had started to play… the most bizarre part was when I realised that the lady could have been at the bank or the butcher. Her face was completely emotionless and expressionless. She couldn’t even be fucked faking it – and who could blame her if she had to do this same routine (sans foreplay, mind you!) 8 times more this evening. There was something sad about the whole thing. And instead of feeling *something* as I had anticipated I would… the whole scene took on a somewhat melancholy vibe… until the next act…

Act two

Lights dim again… a couple men scurry out, a few couples wander in… before the curtain rises again I notice a few of the men who had minutes before snuck out come slinking back in… and I vomit a little in my mouth thinking about where they could have gone, and what they could have done, in those few minutes between acts…

The curtain rises and there is a pole centre stage. I get excited now… not in a sexual way… but some of you may remember my pole dancing days… and I sit up a little with anticipation hoping to see something that makes my hair stand on end – even if it’s not the P in V action I had imagined.

Out walks (stumbles?) this blonde, middle aged woman. She is fit, and she knows her way around the pole… but she reminds me of the time I went to the Moulin Rouge and saw a lady swim in a paddle pool with a snake. The snake was so drugged up it was literally sinking and bobbing about, too knocked out to know where the fuck it was, what the fuck it should be doing, which direction was up or down, and what a bizarre situation it was in… same, same with this lady… but she was in (gorgeous) 10 inch-ers, making it harder again for her to orient herself.

Again my anticipation was deflated.. and while she impressed me with her upside down, hands-free Dazzler… the real moment I was impressed was when she hung herself from one leg, upside down, spreading the other leg out wide……. and proceeding to pull a 60cm string of beads out of her vajootz…. I was fucking impressed… To dance on a pole like that was one thing… but to do it with an anal-bead-kind-contraption shoved up your fru-fru!? Spectacular! I couldn’t help but applaud at the end – to the mortification of those around me. What a show!

Act three

Things were really kicking off now… the theatre was getting fuller, and the curtains opened up for act three to reveal another couple. It didn’t take long for them too to get down to business. This woman had a way of flinging her hair down to totally shield her face from view of the audience – for the pleasure of the fantasy… or for her own anonymity? I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her head…

It was during this act that I realised that the waiter now standing next to me, asking if I’d like a drink, was actually the dude from Sex Act 1?! Was this real life? The couple sitting next to me couldn’t reach him to place their order… so whilst the two exhibitionists did their thing main stage, I was passing down at order for a beer and a savvy b… to a waiter who had just had his schlong out on stage… what a surreal experience.

Act 4 – the Banana show

Buckle in bitches… this shit actually went down.

The MC hops on the mic as the curtains raise for the 4th act. He introduces ‘The Banana Show’ and we all know shit’s about to get weird when a blonde lady appears on stage wearing a hula skirt and a coconut bikini. She is dancing around the stage and asking for 4 volunteers. I cringe for her. It’s only 8pm, the club is barely half full, and most of us are sober(ish) or not high enough to get up and dance with this woman; at a sex show. The whole thing was completely out of context… we are at a live sex show in the red light district – not on a Mediterranean cruise or a family resort in Fiji. This act should have been totally omitted until at least midnight when large groups of friends are so wasted they’d think getting on stage with a sex worker was all time!

It’s getting awkward now. It’s been 3 minutes of this dancing around and begging people to get on stage. And you know it… I felt bad for the Queen… Genuinely awkward and embarrassed for her.

I get up on stage and help a sister out (wearing my bag like an awkward fucker because I didn’t want it to get stolen while I was doing the conga). Once I get up, two other guys brave it and join me on stage. She doesn’t have her four volunteers – but us three will have to do. She starts dancing around with us all then gets us centre stage one at a time. The Queen winks at me when it’s my turn, and the sisterhood is strong. Unlike with the two guys before me, she grabs my hands and puts them all over her body as we dance around to the ridiculous tiki music.

Next minute I turn around and there is a man dressed in a gorilla suit on stage; holding a banana. My heart starts to race. Is this legal!? What am I doing… I’m all about the sisterhood but my impeccable intuition tells me shit’s about to get weird…

Snack time

The Queen lays down on her back and hitches up her hula skirt. Of course she is commando – why am I even surprised at this? She peels the banana to half way and inserts it like a gigantic, inflated tampon; peeled half out of the vajootz while the part with the skin on is anchored firmly in place by her impeccable kegels. I know what is coming, and I become instantly alert to the fact that I am the last one in the line… a move which was no doubt, strategic.

The first dude gets escorted by the gorilla and kneels before her. There is some playing around but ultimately he takes a nice big bite of the banana. My heart is racing. The lights are shining onto me – I can see this woman’s sweat… is she working hard for the money or does she love it? Old mate next to me is up and he is totally digging it… with his bite of the banana It’s almost down flush with her vag…. dear lord help me.

I get escorted by gorilla man. A brief thought passes my mind – would I have preferred a bite of his banana? The jury is still out, to this day. She winks at me again – pleading me to be a good sport. I close my eyes and want it to be over quickly as I kneel down before this Queen. I know I am getting closer… and it’s at this moment she grabs behind my head and pelvic thrusts into my face; mashed banana for days. I can barely swallow; surely this is not real life.

I’m out

I scurry back to my seat, hugging my bag to my chest as if it were a teddy. The guy who was on stage next to me takes a seat immediately to my right. Odd. The next act starts and I decide I’m done with this place. Old mate keeps looking over at me, does he think we’re friends now?? That we share some kind of unique banana bond? He takes his jacket off and places it over his lap…

And; I’m out.

Mid scene, another couple are going for it atop the spinning Lazy Susan – I stand up and wedge my way past Old mate and bee-line for the door, exploding onto the busy street and gasping for air, feeling dirty yet ultimately wanting to collapse in laugher (or tears??).

I am in Amsterdam though, and I find myself a quiet spot by the river to ease my tension and reflect on whatever the fuck it was that I was just involved in. Only a few minutes later I am laughing hysterically…

What the actual fuck.

I pull out my phone and open the voice recorder; “The time I went to a sex show; solo.”

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