Sexpo at a Stretchby Dylan Muhlenberg / 15.05.2009
A friend had likened the spectacle to Bathroom Bizarre, ‘with dildos instead of taps’, so obviously I had to go, but not without support. So underneath my skinny jeans I wore a medical device called the AndroPenis, a contraption that has two (gold plated!) hydraulic metal rods connected to a noose that fits around the bell end of the penis. It’s supposed to stretch the penis an extra four centimetres in length and add an extra one centimetre of girth, but I’ll never know because I wasn’t disciplined enough to endure the nine-hour-a-day, six-month program.
Still, a 24-hour punch line seemed like a good idea at the time, and Sexpo provided the perfect setup. If ever it was okay to walk with a limp while perpetually tugging at the big bulge in your pants – and you’re not a rapper – well, Sexpo is it.
Compared to the reprobate sex fiends here I was a veritable garden variety straight. From liver spotted old men with thinning comb over hairstyles and brows beaded with sweat, to stall owners dressed in fetish gear eating curry from paper plates with plastic utensils. From a gay couple getting married at the pop-up chapel with strangers filming their unholy matrimony on cellphone cameras, to suburban swingers, compulsive masturbators, strippers, porn stars and regular folks just wanting to add to their pornfolios, commit real life porn stars to their internal spankbank or simply trying to find that perfect screwvenir.
So, yes, it’s easy to get away with wearing something like the AndroPenis when there are rosy-cheeked fat boys wearing spiked collars around where their neck should be, clasping their pork-sausage fingers with those belonging to greasy haired girls in fucking ugly shoes. When everyone else has soulless eyes and nervous, jittery movements the self- loathing you get from wearing a penis-extender isn’t that bad.
I should also probably admit to the following – the AndroPenis wasn’t the only Sexpo sex-aid that I’d stuck my dick into. The Fleshlight was also for sale, which the girls at Cosmo had asked me to write about for their sealed sex section. To give credit where credit is due, unlike the AndroPenis the Fleshlight is a great product. It’s a soft, pliable masturbation sleeve that replicates the sensation of penetrative sex and is housed in a canister that resembles an ordinary torch. In my review I said that somebody should start a charity and donate these fake vaginas to Pollsmoor to curb the male rape, that Christians saving themselves for marriage would benefit, and that if I was a scabby-palmed, twelve year old fist-fucker with mad zits and not a hope in the world of convincing a girl to let me near her area, well, the Fleshlight would be on top of my Christmas list.
But I digress… The Sexpo – creepy. It’s also far from sexy, and it’s ironic how something celebrating sex makes the act so off putting. What with the packs of popped-collar boys standing in clusters hyuck-hyucking and trying to outwit each other by thrusting dildos at one another, or a looped video reel showing a woman fellating a dildo. I saw a girl stick her pinkie finger into a blow-up doll’s bloated vagina then squeal when she discovered that it was filled with some sort of lube. I saw people line up to straddle the giant cock that bucks like a mechanical bull. I saw strip shows by amateurs and professionals and erotic art and dildos and vibrators and cock rings and pussy topiary and nude photography and lube and lingerie and fantasy outfits and fetish gear and ball gags and those leather masks with the zipper over the mouth… all of it about as sensual as an IRP5 form.
I attempted to eavesdrop in on a man in a wheelchair chatting to Miss Nude Australia, who was perched on a pleather couch and wasn’t wearing any panties under her pleather skirt, but had no luck, so I followed her to the main stage where she did fire dancing, gymnastics and pole work to Rammstein’s Du Hast. The only person that got more attention than her was the world’s greatest penile artist – Pricasso – who paints portraits with his prick.
Jesus, no wonder there was a Christian standing outside the Cape Town Convention Centre’s entrance, holding a sandwich board with things like MORAL DECAY, EVIL, RAPE… written all over it in uppercase and judging all the visitors. Me, at least I had an excuse. I work at a magazine where I can get stupid stuff for free and do stupid stuff in the name of ‘work.’
The whole penis-stretching thing? That was just a laugh, just something to tick off the list of things to do before I die. You would’ve done the same thing if the internet had suddenly taken a vested interest in the size of your babymaker, barraging you with emails with subject lines like: ‘My fearsome rod of pleasure tears down hymens like crazy! The heat from my manhood is as mighty as a volcano! Give her the enlarged experience with your new weapon! Imagine how your girl will be happy to see this large love gun! My rod is so big, that it can be shared among 5 mouths! If you are small and she does not mind, she is probably having an affair behind your back! Mutate your toothpick into a tree trunk! Women measure love in inches!’
And maybe a little part of me did want to tear down hymens when not being shared amongst many mouths? If I first needed to be mutated into a tree trunk to achieve this, then so be it. So I reverted to a mail and told the company that I’d write about their product if they sent me a unit. They complied and I tried, but just couldn’t bring myself to wear it for longer than a day. The marketing department at Andro Penis HQ can have it back if they want. Hell, there’s probably even a punter at Sexpo willing to pay a premium for a used penis extender?
It’s one thing being sent a complimentary and discretely packaged unit to your office, and something else entirely when buy a penis-enlarger at Sexpo. I’m not saying that I’m any better than the throb of lowest common denominators, FHM subscribers, Saturday night ETV porn fans, Sun page three girl collectors, because I’m not, I have used a penis-extender and an ersatz vagina, still, after three hours of Sexpo I needed to go home and have a Detol bath. Eewugross, Sexpo.