You could call Lindsay Honey an Edinburgh virgin, but that is the only kind of virgin he is. As his alter ego Ben Dover, Honey has appeared in more than 250 pornographic films and — as we go to press — had sex with 1,790 women. This month, though, he will be giving his genitals a well-earned rest and appearing in his own show on the Edinburgh Fringe.

He is quick to make it clear that this time around he is all talk: “I did a warm-up show in London and after 20 minutes two blokes got up and walked out. They thought there was going to be a live sex show, not just me discussing my life. I’m worried that people will see a poster that says ‘Ben Dover Live On Stage’ and get the wrong idea.”

On the other hand, the wrong idea may help to shift tickets. The Fringe this year is notable for the number of shows about sex. It has always been thus, but in 2009 it has truly exploded. From The Chippendales bringing their firemen’s hoses to the Gilded Balloon, via Ophelia Bitz’s burlesque with “erotic fruit consumption”, to Porn the Musical and the spoof Gallic misanthrope Marcel Lucont in Sexual Metro, then back to Honey revealing the difference between German and English pornography. (Don’t ask. All right then, German men all look like 1972 Bayern Munich midfielders.) Why now, though? Stand-ups have always talked about themselves in intimate detail. So talking about their sex lives, as the acclaimed anecdotalist John Gordillo does, for instance, in F***onomics, is just a logical extension. And with pornography becoming increasingly mainstream through the internet, pop and advertising, it was only a matter of time before smut hit the Fringe.

Honey has come to Edinburgh for a particular reason. Now in his fifties, he still has plenty of work, both in front and behind the camera, but is looking to add another string to his bow. He is after some respectable fame, having seen others cross over into the mainstream via his industry: “Look at Paris Hilton. She only made it because of her sex tape. If she can be famous, why can’t I?”

He has come close to breaking through before, being shortlisted to appear on Celebrity Big Brother before it was decided that his background was too racy. “I think they can’t separate the character of Ben Dover from the real me. They think I’m going to be going around all day feeling up the girls. You wouldn’t expect someone who played an axe murderer to be going round killing people, would you? I’m an actor.” Apart from his trouser-free performances, he was in the award-winning film Last Resort. Hardly a stretch — he played an internet pornographer.

The Edinburgh residency came about partly because he lost the nice living that he was making with his anecdotes on the after-dinner speaking circuit, when the “PC brigade” got involved and his bookings stopped “in case I offended a waitress”.

Honey is certainly not the first non-comedian to perform on the Fringe. The PR guru Mark Borkowski did his own show, as did the Yo! Sushi founder Simon Woodroffe. Honey clearly thinks that his show offers enough to attract the floating punter. There are provisos, though. Gordillo’s F***onomics explores the similarities between sexual relationships and financial transactions. He has no problem with someone from the sex business muscling in on the Fringe, as long as it is a good show. The only boundary is one of quality: “It’s about craft and technique.” Telling a story is vital, too. “Maybe he is doing something like an English Boogie Nights.”

Honey may have more than 1,000 notches on his bedpost, but he is relatively new to this kind of performance. As is Ashley Hames, who, until recently, fronted the digital television fly-on-the-brothel-wall series Sin Cities. I’ve never seen it, but it doesn't sound like The One Show. Like Honey, Hames is hoping that Edinburgh might help to kick-start his career in a different direction.

“Why am I doing this? Because I’m unemployed,” Hames explains. “I was thinking of how to spend the summer and how I could possibly get some semblance of a career together after a decade of edging around the cult TV area.” He may not be a contender for a stand-up award, but at least he is honest. “I thought I’d give Edinburgh a shot and see what came next. I like the thought of being nervous and putting myself on the line.” After having his scrotum nailed to a piece of wood for his TV series, maybe this a a soft option.

Hames is banking on anecdotes of the scrotum-nailing variety keeping the audience, erm, riveted: “I wanted her to stop after the second nail, but she said three would look prettier.” If that goes well, he may follow up by recalling the time he had a red wine enema and the time he wore an adult nappy and soiled himself. He is not a stranger to live performance, though. “I did some stripping in Argentina, but they were quite nice. I’m expecting an Edinburgh audience to be more ... [he chooses his words wisely] ... drunk.”

Like Honey, Hames does not really want to get into a debate over the politics of pornography. He is adamant that, in his experience, the women involved are not psychologically damaged or degraded. “You can tell when they do not want to be there. It happened a couple of times,” he concedes, “and we stopped filming." The Manhattan gagsmith Mike Amato is another stand-up comedian who, like Gordillo, has drawn heavily on his own behaviour. He talks about being hooked on casual encounters in his show, Romeopathic: The Comedy of Sex Addiction or Trying to Fill One Hole with Another.

“It’s about the man who can never, ever have enough. I tell stories of serial dating and take on misconceptions about oversexed men. For example, men who sleep around are not necessarily shallow scumbags. Some of us are deep-thinking, deep-feeling scumbags.”

His psychiatrist helped to prompt his show: “I used to go to a shrink and one day he asked: ‘I wonder if there’s any way you could use your experiences towards something productive?’ I was already a comed-ian, so I started thinking about finding the humour of it.” He thinks he has learnt something about himself and maybe the audience will learn something too: “I do give a hands-on demonstration on how to make a woman orgasm using a blow-up doll. It makes some people uncomfortable, but a few women have thanked me for it.”

Amato has found that the subject of his show intrigues people. “Sex addiction is not like crack — we all crave sex, we all get horny. So, are we all addicts? I think the more specific or personal a topic is, the more universal the appeal. You don’t have to be a diagnosed addict to know what it’s like to roll over right after sex and think: ‘Man, I gotta get laid.’”

If all this full-on chat is too much, another comedian is taking a more whimsical approach to the subject. Rosie Wilby’s The Science of Sex is a spoof lecture looking at “the science behind things such as attraction, sexual identity, what chemicals and hormones surge through the brain when we kiss, fall in love and have sex.” Some may, of course, pay up just because of those three little letters in the title. “I was very surprised to find some of my previews were much more full than last year,” she notes.

Wilby’s sweet approach and Honey’s hardcore heroics could not be more different. Which suggests that sex on the Fringe comes in emphatically different shapes and sizes. Honey and Wilby agree, though, that there is something fascinating about the subject. “We are all scared and anxious that other people are having a better time than us,” Wilby says. Somehow, though, I can’t see them forming a double act.

An Evening With Ben Dover: Innocent ’til Proven Filthy! at Underbelly until August 30.

Ashley Hames — Confessions of a Sex Reporter, at Pleasance until August 31.

Rosie Wilby: The Science of Sex is at Sweet Grassmarket until August 30.

Mike Amato’s Romeopathic: The Comedy of Sex Addiction or Trying to Fill One Hole with Another at Laughing Horse @ Edinburgh City FC until August 30.

John Gordillo: F***onomics at Pleasance Dome until August 31.

www.edfringe.com; 0131-226 0000