Saturday Night at the Opera

Probably more than none at all, but likely considerably less than one might imagine, assuming you are the kind of person who looks at a private boxes in opera houses and imagines such things.

If fiction around the opera has taught me anything it's that private boxes are not all that private: in order to see the stage, it's easy enough to turn around from the stalls and see into the boxes, and most of them can be fully seen into from somewhere else in the auditorium (e.g. the balcony or other boxes). That doesn't mean no sex at all, obviously, but it's definitely on the exhibitionist side - you're definitely relying on the people in your eyeline being more interested in the stage than noticing what's going on in your box.

Of course, there's a lot of ways to have sexy times that are discrete enough that no one would be any the wiser - using your hands, for example, or having one or more of the participants down on the floor out of sight.

That said, I also tend to assume that the combination of rich and posh enough to go to the opera in a private booth probably means that it's the kind of thing you're likely to be into, and probably able to find willing volunteers for...
 
How about this:

for decades, after the lights went down, Mrs. Fletcher would sneak into the adjoining box and give a handjob to poor Mr. Smith, the widower. He dies two years ago. Imagine Mrs. Fletcher's sur[rise when a younger version of Mr. smith appears in the box. She goes to investigate, ends up giving a handjob to the Smith grandson.
 
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