Tuesday, 10 January 2017


Dear Sir and/or Madam,

I saw Leah Harper on "The Sex Show" yesterday, and I think she is beautiful. I would like to make mad passionate love to her.

Do you think maybe we could arrange something?


At this point I paused. Maybe it was a bit creepy. Was it creepy? I didn't know. I still don't. Judging by the beautifully constructed missives that get sent by some people to some places, this was practically very tame indeed. Then again, I was very young at the time, and this was possibly one of the first times I'd ever written a formal letter. I remember worrying that the postman wouldn't deliver a letter addressed to "The Sex Show", but I threw caution to the wind on this occasion.

One has to take into consideration that I wrote this one day after one of the first instances of feeling truly aroused by watching a striptease on TV. Page Three model Leah Harper had been on The Sex Show, one of L!VE TV's homegrown efforts (which I now know were mostly filmed in the same studio), and accordingly, had done the usual Sex Show thing of answering some Q&As:

- where's the most unusual place you've had sex?
- what was the best orgasm you've ever had?
- what was the first sexual experience you had with a man?
- what was the first sexual experience you had with a woman?
- how many questions can the hosts get through before acquiescing and moving on to the striptease?

After this, of course, would be the main event, which ended with a topless model jiggling on the screen. This is, I believe, what people watched The Sex Show for. I don't recall any of the rest of it being particularly entertaining; presumably the sex tips were useful, but I wasn't having sex, so I wasn't going to use any of them (although I was amused by the man who phoned in saying that his penis wasn't big enough...).

But I did write a letter.

I wasn't silly enough to put a return address. I didn't want people writing back to me, although I'd have been chuffed if they'd read it out on TV (they didn't; I doubt any of the letters they read were real). And, in any case, I was going to use a fake name, so it would have been a moot point anyway. I was mostly writing for thrills - I was enjoying the erection that the mere act of writing about wanting to make love to someone was getting me.

But, as I thought, I may as well send it. I've got a stamp and an envelope, so...

"Ziggy" (age 21)

I have no idea why I settled on "Ziggy". It's not even a name I'd ever been called by anyone, nor was it a nickname I called myself (I had, in my youth, a few - the main one I still use now). I probably just chose one of the Koopalings and put a letter Z at the start to make it look quirky. A little more street. Or maybe it made my letter look a little more zhit.

The reason I put my (fake) age is that I was suddenly overcome with shame. I was far too young to be writing to, watching, or even aware of The Sex Show. If my gran didn't have cable TV, I'd never have seen it. I wasn't even original enough to invent a plausible age - I just reversed the digits in my actual age. 12 became 21; that's an age of consent for just about anything, and I probably thought, "there, that'll do."

I stuck a second-class stamp onto the envelope, copied out The Sex Show's address from the letter, sealed it inside, and took it straight to the postbox at the end of the road, shaking with fear, trepidation and a little arousal, looking around every few seconds to see if I was being watched, or even spotted by the postman. (I needn't have worried, really. Postmen never come when you want them to. Two buses went past, but I didn't worry about that too much...)

It's probably still one of the most risqué things I've ever done. I started a sex blog once... but I'm not really sure that compares.

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