Losing your virginity in a brothel
April 12th 2008 04:53
SBS (bless the programmers hearts) screened an unusual documentary last night which I watched with interest.
"It was the one of the greatest moments of my life and one of the greatest moments of their (his parents) lives".
So said Asha, a 25 year old English bloke born with a condition that means he has little movement in his body but still has the ability to feel when his parents took him to Barcelona, where he was deflowered at a brothel that caters for disabled people.
Empowered by his experience, he sent out an online invitation for others to join him on a trip back and two others - Leigh, a 35 year old man blind from birth and Shah, a 22 year old who was in a wheelchair after a motorbike crash at the age of 16 - both virgins.
Asha was an affable, extremely likeable bloke. He joked with Shah that he hated it when people asked him "Are you having a good night?" when he went out clubbing in his wheelchair. "Why do they ask that, what am I, a cabbage?".
Still, not all went to plan when they went to check it out before deciding to pick out a girl and return the next day.
Although Leigh's glasses positvely steamed with excitement and his ruddy face became even more ruddier under the carreses of the young, nubile girls stroking his chest seductively, Shah's heavy breathing wasn't indicating pleasure but rather nervousness and reluctance and he declined, citing moral objections that it wasn't the way he wanted his first time, or any other time to be.
"Fantastic" declared Asha afterwards.
"I got there in the end" announced Leigh after the deed.
Yet, as I was sitting on the couch and demolishing the last of the packet of rocky road biscuits, the marshmallow, jam and chocolate piece wouldn't go down past the lump in my throat.
"I feel dirty" confessed Asha towards the end of the documentary, in a small voice tinged with sadness. "It's made me realise I want to be with someone, I need somebody in my life".
You see, the most primal of urges and desires, the basic instinct we all have has a close companion.
That companion is the equally important desire and urge to have a partner.
Someone to love.
Someone to love us.
Yet, like all documentaries worth their salt it also threw up more questions than there were answers for.
Questions such as:
Who are we to deny people the right to have sex in whatever form they wish?
When the pandoras box was opened, as it was with Asha, what escapes can be sadness and longing. How will the box be closed?
Do we really think of disabled people as cabbages, or, at the very least, less than human?
Then as I went outside to ponder the thoughts swirling in my head I thought about my own son Mark and what would await him in a few years time.
Holding your willy in public and streaking across the lounge room whilst on the way to the shower in the presence of a full house of people is only just acceptable at the age of nine but what about later?
Will he find a partner, perhaps someone autistic like himself?
Have children?
When the hormones of testosterone ravage his body, how will he cope?
I don't know the answer to all these questions so I will have to put those thoughts in a little cupboard in my mind to open at the appropriate time.
Still, Mark has gigantic feet for his age and if I apply the logic behind that correctly, it means he will more than likely have a huge...er....you know....
It would be an enormous shame if he never got to use it for the most gorgeous of all pleasures.....
"It was the one of the greatest moments of my life and one of the greatest moments of their (his parents) lives".
So said Asha, a 25 year old English bloke born with a condition that means he has little movement in his body but still has the ability to feel when his parents took him to Barcelona, where he was deflowered at a brothel that caters for disabled people.
Empowered by his experience, he sent out an online invitation for others to join him on a trip back and two others - Leigh, a 35 year old man blind from birth and Shah, a 22 year old who was in a wheelchair after a motorbike crash at the age of 16 - both virgins.
Asha was an affable, extremely likeable bloke. He joked with Shah that he hated it when people asked him "Are you having a good night?" when he went out clubbing in his wheelchair. "Why do they ask that, what am I, a cabbage?".
Still, not all went to plan when they went to check it out before deciding to pick out a girl and return the next day.
Although Leigh's glasses positvely steamed with excitement and his ruddy face became even more ruddier under the carreses of the young, nubile girls stroking his chest seductively, Shah's heavy breathing wasn't indicating pleasure but rather nervousness and reluctance and he declined, citing moral objections that it wasn't the way he wanted his first time, or any other time to be.
"Fantastic" declared Asha afterwards.
"I got there in the end" announced Leigh after the deed.
Yet, as I was sitting on the couch and demolishing the last of the packet of rocky road biscuits, the marshmallow, jam and chocolate piece wouldn't go down past the lump in my throat.
"I feel dirty" confessed Asha towards the end of the documentary, in a small voice tinged with sadness. "It's made me realise I want to be with someone, I need somebody in my life".
You see, the most primal of urges and desires, the basic instinct we all have has a close companion.
That companion is the equally important desire and urge to have a partner.
Someone to love.
Someone to love us.
Yet, like all documentaries worth their salt it also threw up more questions than there were answers for.
Questions such as:
Who are we to deny people the right to have sex in whatever form they wish?
When the pandoras box was opened, as it was with Asha, what escapes can be sadness and longing. How will the box be closed?
Do we really think of disabled people as cabbages, or, at the very least, less than human?
Then as I went outside to ponder the thoughts swirling in my head I thought about my own son Mark and what would await him in a few years time.
Holding your willy in public and streaking across the lounge room whilst on the way to the shower in the presence of a full house of people is only just acceptable at the age of nine but what about later?
Will he find a partner, perhaps someone autistic like himself?
Have children?
When the hormones of testosterone ravage his body, how will he cope?
I don't know the answer to all these questions so I will have to put those thoughts in a little cupboard in my mind to open at the appropriate time.
Still, Mark has gigantic feet for his age and if I apply the logic behind that correctly, it means he will more than likely have a huge...er....you know....
It would be an enormous shame if he never got to use it for the most gorgeous of all pleasures.....
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Comment by Nevar
Is Why
Handicaps aren't always visible, and those that are, often make the viewer more uncomfortable than the viewed. Because the viewer can often see themselves reflected back in eyes they hoped were dead.