Sam: Glastonbury with a Twist . . .

Well, I have to say that when I found out that TT was nominated as a finalist for the Blog of the Year for the Erotic Awards I was pretty chuffed, but what really caught my attention was the invitation to the Night of the Senses afterwards – otherwise known as the ‘Glastonbury of sex’.

For every other big awards ceremony people surreptitiously sneak off to go and have drug fuelled orgies in hotel rooms. At this one, it was all upfront and you could do it in between buying a beer at the bar. You’d think as a sexperty type I’d have been along to all sorts of stuff like that; well, actually, no. So for research purposes, I decided to get myself a chaperone, get permission from my fiancée (with strict rules attached) and give it a go.

Let’s face it; every red-blooded male has secretly fantasised about going to a sex party and tupping off with loads of women. But the fly in the ointment is you’ve got to have a woman to accompany you. Have you ever tried (when you are single) to convince a girl to go along to something like that? Then of course for most people in a relationship it’s strictly off limits too. Catch 22 for 99% of men.

Now not only did I have an invitation, but I was being accompanied by a highly attractive female friend and had the status of being a finalist (then winner), both of which made my chances of becoming the secret envy of every red blooded man the highest they have ever been, (or will be) in my life. But for me it would be pure window shopping. A bit like a diabetic taking a tour through a lolly shop with assistants constantly offering free candy.

We started our tour of what was on offer, politely declining to ‘Fuck for Forest’

“Ya vell, you just lie down here, ve have ze cameras and zen once you are done ve vill put it on ze webzite. People pay to vatch, and ze profits are going to buying ze rainforest in guatamala. You should use your zexuality to make ze vorld a better place.”

Typical of Scandinavians to come up with the idea of shagging outdoors, filming it and then turning it into a charitable cause. They are naturists at heart.

After several more 'no's' my chaperone decided to get into the spirit of things, getting a good spanking, walking in her high heels all over a man’s back, getting a lap dance (with a super hot lap dancer) and then suitably warmed up left me standing outside the ‘women’s womb’ (read bi-curious love fest) for so long eventually I just gave up and wandered off.

So much for keeping an eye on me. Well, at least she enjoyed herself.

Now I have to say I’m not really turned on by a Shemale rolling around in Heinz Spaghetti, or putting live fish in your fanny and showing it on a video screen while on stage, but I have to put my hand up and say that I really admire the British approach of do whatever turns you on behind closed doors.

The whole atmosphere was incredibly polite, respectful and egalitarian. Women approached men, men approached women and both were very polite if knocked back. Everyone wants sex, and here people were just getting down to what turned them on. And to be frank, some of it was really hot.

The night was summed up for me when I was buying a drink at the bar. A woman in a wheelchair rolled up beside and made a confident attempt to pull me within a stones throw of the boudoir where a dozen or so couples were at it like rabbits. Where else could that happen? In a bar she’d get laughed at, at a nightclub she wouldn’t have a hope. Here, she grabbed the drink I bought her and set off enthusiastically for someone who wasn’t just window shopping. Roxy the Rabbit and Millie the Mouse would be cheering!

This was a place with people dressing up, having fun, and getting down what we all love to do, have sex. Hurrah for the Glastonbury with a twist, I say!