He says his office is his bedroom. He does serious work there: looking at himself in the wall and ceiling mirrors while making out with women. Pleasure is his business, for which he spends a great deal of money. And now, at 72, when he awaits the call of death, he is happy to announce to the world that he wants a “final, glorious orgasm” before he breathes his last. And the woman who will be left with a stiff body to deal with can take home $240,000. Rolf Eden has not gone dotty. He says he wants it the “simply divine” way, and the woman at the end of his life will be a representative of “all the women who spoilt me in bed over the years”. This will be his gesture of appreciation.

How on earth should one react? It is a bit too late to get moralistic, for he flaunts his status as a playboy, a bit of a Berlin pin-up, in a reverse fashion. And after his offer there are several women who have been flooding him with emails. But, is there a possibility that some woman might in fact cause him to have more than a climax and initiate his death? He seems smart enough to know cream from cracker, so I suppose we can rest in peace as he indulges in what he admits is a gimmick.

Hugh Hefner does not need short-term gimmicks as he has an empire designed precisely to make people feel good. However, unlike other businesses and businessmen, he takes an ‘active’ interest in his work. He may be getting on in years, but the two places he seems to be living in are his bathtub and his bed. He has to a large extent been responsible for the ‘sexual revolution’. Free sex and flower power had quite different connotations; Hefner promoted ‘Playboy’ as something that made indulgence seem like not just rebellion but the done thing. The bunnies and the mates became totems. Also, unlike the hippie cult, where being down-market was desirable, he promoted a sophisticated culture of erotica. In that, he elevated it to a luxury. Sure, anyone could look at the photographs in their toilets, but to be a part of the inner circle you needed money and style.

And although he has always surrounded himself with girls, one does not get the impression that they are acquisitions. When he says he has an “ongoing relationship” with them, one does not disbelieve him.

At any given time he is with six or seven, aged between 19 and 28. It would be easy to see this as an ego-boosting exercise on his part and greed on theirs. He describes their togetherness in more civilised terms, “We do all kinds of wonderful things together. We go to Disneyland together. We go out to the movies, and we go out to the clubs and are always the very centre of whatever’s going on, wherever we are.”

See it in whichever way we like, but there is a zest for life here. I am even more intrigued as to how these women react to one another. No doubt this is a modern-day version of a harem, which is precisely why I wonder how women who have willfully bared their bodies for public consumption and have no qualms indulging in bacchanalian activities of their own will, take to this ‘sharing’. Can we dare see it as a less stifling form of man-woman equation? Would we be able to apply the same standards were one woman surrounded by so many men in a relationship at the same time?

I know it is difficult to imagine women indulging in this sort of thing, even at the level of fantasy. The only ones who entertain many men are professionally expected to do so -- either as commercial sex workers or in sex clubs.

A Japanese porn star, Ai Iijima, titled her autobiography ‘Platonic Sex’. I think no other phrase can describe what she has experienced. There has been no visceral commitment, though it has been virtual. I am curious, though, as to why only women are called porn stars when many men are performing in blue films as well. Isn’t it a job for both of them? Or are they putting in different kinds of effort – the woman exposing her whole self, the man merely a part of him?

Does this mean that women have no rights over pleasure? The fact that street walking is the oldest form of prostitution reveals that women decided to do it of their own accord. And the Love Club of the 18th century lists the amorous adventures of a woman; it included 72 princes, 93 rabbis, 439 monks, 288 commoners, 119 musicians, 929 officers, 342 financiers, 420 society men, 117 valets, 47 Negroes, 12 cousins, 2 uncles, and 1,614 foreigners.

More recently, a woman who was being treated for severe spinal pain was suddenly groaning in ecstasy at a hospital in North Carolina. The electrode that was placed to relieve her suffering managed to give her a buzz. As the doctor said, “Yes, we turned her on.” Of course, this was not the intention (is it ever?), but that little device did it. And the lady, with all the pain, managed to tell the doc, “You’re going to have to teach my husband how to do that.”

Besides the pleasure principle, other factors do come into play. Christine Keeler sold her story to the ‘News of the World’ and made a cool 23,000 pounds. Her affair with John Profumo hit the headlines, which was precisely why she could earn off it. To look on this with disdain would be an insult, for this was the woman who was made to participate in rowdy parties where flagellation, group sex and voyeurism were the norm, and the participants were the high and mighty of uppity English society. It was not just a business deal. It was part of an unspoken give-and-take that mores are always imbued with.

As is the case of the ageing playboy who wants to leave this earth with a big bang. If he has the right to declare that his monetary offer is to “make myself more interesting”, then the woman too should be given the respect she deserves for helping him achieve just that, not only for the money but for the honour of letting him be so kick-ass as he kicks the bucket.