Saturday, May 13, 2006

I used to find stashes of recently tossed porn


I used to find stashes of recently tossed porn books in a trash can when I walked to school during the mid sixties; crude art, coarse language, grubby cover art featuring innocent men and older, salacious babes in permanent states of undress. Nothing I've read or seen in the porn industry has equaled the thrill of this gamy paperbacks, mostly due, I think, to my not knowing what to do with my growing obsession with women. This is was a particular kind of private world a young man walked around in, something so far removed from his daily references of parents, teachers and comic books that there was literally no coherent way to deal with the drive save dirty jokes and whatever sticky paperbacks or back issues of Stag you could get your hands on. It was as exciting as it was secret. The thrill was increased by the aspect of seeming to get away with something that is not allowed, and made more intense by the prospect of getting caught

1 comment:

  1. The first porn I saw was, I've been assuming, a Playboy another student brought to school. I was in fourth grade and too young to be sexually aroused. I thought the breasts were grotesquely large. The boy sharing the mag with me kept looking over his shoulder, but I was innocent and didn't think anything wrong.

    In high school I got hold of a Playboy. One night I was looking at it, hiding under the sheets of my bed. I took a lamp under the sheets with me and the Playboy. It was difficult; holding the sheet, lamp and Playboy. I managed to burn a hole in the sheet.

    I enjoy porn more when I'm not hiding. Especially when I don't feel I have anything to hide.

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