Remember the peep-show?

[grlilgirls]

This really is a perfect forum to share fond memories.
During the 80s in Amsterdam there were several peep-shows I frequented. For some reason live nude girls always appealed to me. Judging by the number of visitors I was not the only one feeling that way.
Though of course it was completely not done on one or two occasions I took my camera along. Lighting was not made for photography, but here are some results:



Anyone else who has done similar sneaky things?
jj

[cialtrone]

The last time I went to a peep show was in Paris, in "Les Halles" red light area. It was 11,00 A.M. I read at 5 P.M. begin the show of Marilyn Jess. "Shit"....... I'd to got a plane at 15,00 P.M. and I couldn't loose it. Adieu....Marilyn.....that's all happent in 91 or 90.....

[hossie]

I remember one of my first visits in the peep show.

Me and a friend where in the box together...the girl on table showed us "thumbs up"..we startet to laugh and yelling and also.."thumbs up".

Then she came to our box and closed the window, before the time was up.

Then we realized what she means with "thumbs up"...only 1 person per box

[broxyman]

A very interesting and unusual post - thanks.

I well remember the peep shows in Amsterdam. There were several in the canalside red light area, and a few more elsewhere. I'm amazed you got away with the photos!

The thing I remember most is how little time you got for your guilder, or 5 guilders. You just got to the interesting bit and the shutter went down. There were a couple where they did live sex on the hour - oh the crowds trying to get into the booths!

And the state of the booths too - most people were in there wanking (if you could manage it before the shutter came down) and the mess on the floor was horrendous!

[ymcba321]

There's still a fabulous peepshow in the red light district - I visited it only a couple of weeks ago. Really gorgeous girls, and live sex on the hour. Definitely recommended.

Does anyone remember the peep show that was in Leicester Square in the late 70s? It was on the north side of the square, at the back of the large sex shop that occupied the corner of the block. This was where I saw real bush for the first time, and I still have fond spotty adolescent memories of the place.

[shanafona]

Originally Posted by ymcba321

There's still a fabulous peepshow in the red light district - I visited it only a couple of weeks ago. Really gorgeous girls, and live sex on the hour. Definitely recommended.

Does anyone remember the peep show that was in Leicester Square in the late 70s? It was on the north side of the square, at the back of the large sex shop that occupied the corner of the block. This was where I saw real bush for the first time, and I still have fond spotty adolescent memories of the place.

I remeber it! I visited it in 1982. I was working for the M O D at that time. I took the afternoon off to visit the delights of SOHO. Saw a bird that I thought I had seen on a super 8 film (remember thoses?!) she was wearing black FF seamed stockings and silver high heels.
She looked really bored!
Nevetheless...... being 17 years old I loved it!

Shanafona (real name Mark)

[ymcba321]

I'm so glad someone else remembers the place. If I remember right, the first girl I saw in there was wandering around in a tight white t-shirt and platfom shoes - no bra and no pants. I can't remember her face or the colour of her hair, but I still remember her full bush.

Once I discovered how fabulous it was to put 50p into a machine and get a chance to see real live naked girls I frequented the one in Leicester square, the one opposite the Revuebar, and the one upstairs from what is now Ann Summers (I think). That one was particularly good, as the girls would finger themselves for an extra 50p. Those were the days.

[edgarcasey]

I can recall the New York City of the 1970's. Twentieth century Gotham. A pre-Guliani Big Apple. A time when 42nd Street was vibrant and had soul - well before its metamorphosis to Disneyworld North. Before this country's seismic shift to the right. Before the pleasure-hating conservative fundamentalists began to flex their political muscle. Before police presence became ubiquitous, determined, insistant that virtually anyone who meets their authoritarian eye must be doing something terribly wrong - surely we all must be guilty of some infraction, no matter how slight.
In midtown Manhattan, the feeling was laid back. Young people would gather outside Town Hall before the Flora Purim concert, and would safely enjoy a drag off their marijuana cigarettes. Ad hoc musical combos would play along the streets for tips. The names Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson flooded the movie marquees, as theatres of equal magnitude advertised boldy: Ecstasy In Blue, Linda Lovelace in Deep Throat and Marilyn Chambers in Behind the Green Door. All around was a veritable cornucopia of carnal delights. Along Eighth Avenue, ShowWorld trumpeted the arrival of Vanessa Del Rio. White girls with long straight hair, and black girls with sumptuous rumps wore hot pants and elevator shoes as they strolled lazily along the wide sidewalks, inquiring of gentemen passers by: "Goin' out?" At the Roxy in Times Square, the guy behind the microphone introduced one dancer after the other. Topless, bottomless. Girls working in amongst the seats of the theatre, offering their services, inviting men to accompany them to one of the side rooms.
Back on 42nd Street, the neon flashed: Live Nude Girls! Countless streams of men descended into the depths of the cavernous rooms filled with peep shows. The air was pungent with a mixture of Lysol and cum, the clean-up men working continuously with mop and pail.
On up to Seventh, where I would duck into a smaller venue with my front pocket filled with singles. It was only nine a.m., but the girls were already at work. Into the slot I would place my dollar bill, and the small door would rise at about chest level. A thin brunette was propped against the far wall, sitting with her legs splayed. I had seen her here once before. Her pubic hair was long and straight, jutting up and out away from her lithe body. She sat sedated, with a faraway look in her eyes. A dirty blonde with thick thighs and ample breasts approached my space.
"Tipping?"
I held out a couple of my singles. She cupped them in the palm of her hand, and in one continuous motion slid her black panties down around her knees. She had a thick wide-spreading jungle of dirty blonde pubic curls, darker than the hair on her head. I reached out to carress her massive mound of dense pussy bush. It felt unbelievably soft and silky, and I would lose sight of my fingertips as they explored her golden ringlets. I felt my cock grow hard and high as the door began to wind closed again.

[Jenkinson]

The bright and shiny peepshow depicted in grlilgirls's excellent photographs at the top of this thread is a good example of the continental European model of such establishments. I first encountered this type in Brussels: clean cubicles, large windows, voluptuous ladies rotating slowly on turntables, and even up-lighting to illuminate their more intimate crevices!

As subsequent posters have indicated, British peepshows were very different. I never visited them very often, mainly because I never lived permanently in London. So far as I'm aware, no other British city ever had them, though I could be wrong. It was also the case that they only appealed to me when I was in a particularly sleazy mood - on those days, for instance, when the tarts of Whitehouse attracted more powerfully than the beauties of Club International. To enjoy a Soho peepshow, you had to want to feel like the proverbial "dirty old man", whatever your age.

Peepshows made their greatest impression on me in the early 1980s when I paid a few visits to London in my mid-to-late teens, staying with relations in the suburbs. Soho was naturally a top priority for me, but (to my intense disappointment) the law had just been passed banning window displays in sexshops, so the blatantly sexy street scenes that I'd glimpsed on TV news programmes had suddenly become a thing of the past. There was another problem. Though I'd saved up for 'illicit' purchases, I was inhibited by having to share a bedroom with my sister during my stay, and teenaged sisters are no respecters of privacy. "What's in the brown paper-bag, little brother?" I'd never have heard the last of it! I did manage to smuggle through a few copies of the convenient pocket-sized edition of Playbirds (or was it Lovebirds?) - by the obvious method of keeping them in my pockets - but an ingenious scheme to hide a larger mag in the bathroom did not work. I succeeded in slipping my lovely new copy of Janus 22 behind the side-panel of the bath, but on the morning of my departure I found it impossible to get it out again in the limited time available. The frustration!!! My relatives moved not long after, so maybe some West London plumber in the intervening years has made an interesting discovery.

It was because of these obstacles to buying porn that I turned to the peepshows. I shall not forget the small one on the north side of Moor Street by Cambridge Circus. For 50p, it gave me my first close-up view of a lovely hirsute pussy. The effect on me can easily be imagined. I never saw the dancer's face, as the venue was so small that the performance area was just a narrow corridor in front of the booths (which made it a bad place to go during busy periods, when one girl was having to divide her time between three or four customers). Needless to say, I was back there again the next day. It gave a new dimension to London sightseeing.

My second short bout of peepshow-going came a few years later when I had a summer job in central London. The work brought me into contact with many young women, but required considerable 'professional' formality. The sight of them in their short skirts and tight jeans stimulated me all they same, of course, so it sometimes pleased me to slip out at lunch time for quick relief. If you were already pretty turned-on, peepshows did offer that rare thing in the sex industry, a genuinely cheap thrill. Like ymcba321, I patronised the show in Wardour Street, where the Ann Summers Shop is now. There were also so-called video-cabins there, but they were a total rip-off, showing nothing but a succession of stills. The peepshow consisted of one or two women sprawling on a bed surrounded on three-sides by the customary coin-operated 'letter-boxes'. These places always played deafeningly loud music, presumably to stop the punters talking to the models. I actually took to pressing a slip of paper to the glass: "Please show me your bum"! Some models obliged, some mocked me, and others just scowled. The whole experience was utterly seedy, but I liked the sharpness of the contrast with the polite 'respectability' of my workplace. Remember that big pink and black sign in Brewer Street: "GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS"?

The last time I visited Soho peepshows in the early 1990s, the format had changed for the worse. I could have tolerated the price rise to £1, but that was just the start. As soon as the viewing-slot opened, the model would start shouting at you to push a five-pound note through a small hole in the chip-board, promising to use a dildo on herself in return. She wouldn't even turn round and show me her arse unless I paid a fiver! The amount of money now being demanded struck me as ridiculous and I never went again.

I don't think there are any peepshows left in London now. If the occasional sign is still seen in Soho, it is merely a lure for a clip-joint (to which many of the shows had always been attached). Hence British peepshows have passed into the realm of vintage erotica. They were always rough and nasty places, but they were sometimes useful when you were feeling especially pervy after a long trawl around the nearby sexshops and you didn't have the time or money left for superior means of satisfaction.

[maxisback]

I remember the peeps both off Time Square in NYC and in the Tenderloin district of San Francisco and oddly enough, Denver, Colorado...

I'd read about the delights of Times Square in fiction throughout my teen years, and suddenly I found myself there on business one day in 1984. I managed to not have nearly enough cash on me to have all the fun I wanted, but I do recall the foray into the 8mm film booths at Show World, and then on to the live peeps! Wow, that was exciting, seeing real porn stars naked up close and personal!

I continued to return there up through the early 90s, sometimes taking one of my girlfriends with me. The girls putting on the show sure didn't object to "two to a a booth" in those circumstances!!

In the same time period, I was frequently in San Fran on business, and I remember fondly one particular place down on Taylor St just north of Market that had the whole revolving stage setup as well as "private show booths" where all manner of things could happen...

I also went to a similar place in Denver (actually, probably Arvada) where you would leave the front part of the book store and walk into what looked like a warehouse with a big circular building in the middle of it. It was a circular rotating stage, with booths ringing it, each having a door. Very wierd setup, all that empty space around it, but it the shows were just as hot...

Haven't been to a place like that in a long time. Wonder if they still exist...

Max