My First Peep Show



My First Peep Show

I recently came across an old journal I thought I had lost. I kept the journal while working at the Lusty Lady, which was about four years ago. One of the first entries describes the first time I went to a peep show.

I was first introduced to The Lusty Lady by my boyfriend, DM. It was a hot July summer nite in Seattle and we decided to go downtown for a drink or two and ended up at the Alibi Room.

DM was drinking gin and tonic and I was shooting Yaegermeister. After we both downed a few, and were feeling a nice buzz, we decided to check out The Lusty Lady on the way home. DM had piqued my curiosity about the place in previous conversations. I'd grown up knowing about the Lusty and often smiled as I drove or walked by, but I never gave it much thought. I always imagined the Lusty as a dark and seedy place--not appealing. However, DM described it as sexy . . . very sexy. DM told me about the shows and the booths where you watched the girls. This did sound very interesting to me . . . much more so than going to a strip club like the local Deja Vu.

Knowing I could go into a booth privately, and knowing the girls could not see me, really eased what apprehensions I might have had, which weren't already masked by my buzz.

So we made our way down to the Lusty. I was very giddy and had butterflies in my stomach. I felt like a teenager again, doing something forbidden and it was exciting. I noticed the marquee first. Looking back, I can't remember exactly what it said that nite, but it usually is something short and campy and often relating to holidays or local events. The outside of the Lusty is very plain--nothing worth noting other than the marquee.

[Note: The marquee currently reads: Feeling taxed? Get an extension.]

We walked in and to the left was an ATM machine and to the right was the front counter behind which a young man sat, reading a magazine. He did not acknowledge our presence. I do remember some fairly decent art work on the walls, although it was dark. As we passed the counter, to the right there was a display case hanging on the wall. The polaroids of all the dancers were displayed there. The dancers were in various stages of dress and had sexy names like Vixon, Sable, and Venus. There appeared to be a girl for every fantasy. Past the display case were the booths . . . a whole line of them. DM turned and handed me a couple of dollars. I couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I stepped into the booth, the one where she can't see you, and put my dollar into the feeder and stood there waiting.

The window lifted and I could see three girls all naked. I felt a little uncomfortable at first, feeling like a voyeur but was comforted by the fact they could not see me.

One of the girls seemed to notice that I was there. She sauntered slowly over to my window. She had shoulder length, wavy blonde hair. Her skin was beautiful, creamy in color, and appeared to have a shimmer in the light. Her eyes were a greenish-blue and when they met mine, I looked away, still nervous about the possibility of her really seeing me. I looked back and saw her body--all of it. It was the first time that I had seen a female body that close and moving in such a suggestive manner and for my pleasure, or so it appeared to be. Am I turned on looking at her? And if so, what could that mean? I've never been with a girl other than what I experienced earlier in my life via childhood sex play and the like. But I have to admit that I did enjoy looking at her . . . all of her. I also noticed a girl in the background who was facing a mirrored wall with her legs spread wide. She was masturbating, or at least she was going through the motions. At that point, the window came down--show over. Big sigh.

I collected myself and opened the door, hoping no one saw me coming out. Where is DM? I looked at the booth next to mine and recognized the shoes which could be seen at the bottom of the door. He heard me come out and opened his door.

"So how was it?" he asked, smiling.

"Nice . . . very nice," I said, biting my lip.

Well, that is how it all started. Later that evening, I laid in bed thinking about that place and the beautiful girls who danced behind the glass. I needed to know more about those girls and about the customers who came in to watch them. It was a curiousity . . . a need to know that could not be assuaged by any other means. At that moment, I knew I, too, would be working there.

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