Juvenile smut aquisition nostalgia in the pre-internet era

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

My friend Joey swiped two of his dad’s magazines from the cabinet in his downstairs bathroom. He dared me to do the same, but I was too chicken. Fortunately he was a good frined and let me look anyway. We stashed them in the woods of the house next door – we knew they wouldn’t be bothered there because the former occupant of the house was in jail for murder.

There were two magazines, a Hustler and a Conections. The latter was apparently a forum for couples to send in picutres of themselves en flagrante. That was 25 years ago but I can still remember the poster from the Hustler with four pictures of girls “wearing” police uniforms on one side and then a fifth girl, similarly attired, taking up the whole back of the poster. She was obviously a woman who had been around the block a few times and had developed some concommitant anatomical changes that confused me for years.

I also remember Joey and I (who were only 7 or 8) debating seriously whether to show these items to his little brother Tony. Ultimately, we showed him the poster, but felt that he was too young for the Connections magazine because it had both men and women.

That was certainly the best I ever had it. Later, my friend Paul and I would go to the Waldenbooks and look at the photography books, hoping to find some boobs. Also once I was walking home from school and someone had ripped up a gentleman’s magazine and threw the pieces on the ground. A couple featured a woman with large, perfectly spherical breasts – like she was wearing balloons on her chest. I was walking with a friend (a girl) and so I didn’t feel I had the opportunity to pick the pages up. I came back the next day, but they were gone.

–Cliffy

22

My brother didn’t bother to hide his Playboys. He installed an extra lock on the bathroom door so we couldn’t play peekaboo. When we did this, we would find a him with a towel over his lap. He hid his hard stuff between the Car and Driver magazines. We figured this out one day when he kicked my younger brother out of his room for looking at car pics. We would steal the ones he got tired of that eventually ended up at the bottom. I finally understood what they meant by a hairy pogostick. :smack:

23

Wasn’t the 7-11; it was some local drugstore. (Bartell’s? Don’t recall.) Being a nervous 13-year-old, I was too scared to try to lift an entire magazine and get it out the front door, so I took it off the shelf, carried it elsewhere in the store, and razored out some of the choicest pages with a blade. These could then be easily folded and squirreled away, and the magazine returned to the shelf.

I think I may still have them someplace. I don’t recall ever throwing them away, though I couldn’t say where exactly they are.

Oh, and the mentions of “going out in the woods” reminded me of the grubby neighbor kids who lived by my family’s getaway cabin on an island in Puget Sound. They kept their magazines in a plastic sack hung from a branch of a tree next to their house. It felt like it was fifty feet up, but I was a kid so it was probably more like twenty-five. I used to sneak over, climb the tree, and look at the pictures.* After a year or so, I came up with the brilliant plan of, y’know, taking the sack instead of just looking and then leaving it, but it was no longer there. Bummer. So it was back to the drug store. :slight_smile:
*For what it’s worth, I never did anything but look at pictures and vaguely fondle my bits while I was growing up. I never discovered masturbation to orgasm until after I lost my virginity. Yep, the first time I came (and was awake) was with a woman. After that, of course, I became a dedicated student of the practice. One wonders if my childhood would have been different if I’d been aware of what I was missing.

24

I was, I think, nine years old. Maybe ten.

My best friend Scott and I had just started to obsess about women in a sexual way. He told me that he’d discovered a stash of Playboys at his grandfather’s house. I was in awe.

He promised to swipe some next time he visited his grandfather. We could share them and learn more about the mysteries of naked women while discussing our theories at leisure.

One Sunday a few weeks later I was playing Yahtzee with my mom. There was a knock on the back door. I answered, and it was Scott, who was really nervous. He basically shoved three magazines (two Playboys and a Penthouse, as I recall) into my arms and took off.

Now, my mom didn’t have a direct line of sight to the door, but I’d have to walk through her field of vision to take the magazines, well, anywhere else. So I excused myself from the game (probably reeking of guilt) – “Scott just loaned me some magazines,” was my sophisticated lie by omission – and headed for the basement. I flipped through one issue, getting very excited by some advertisement with Hef in a Santa hat, pointing his pipe at some Playmate’s naked breasts. Naked breasts! In an ad! Playboy was awesome! So much better than the line drawings in the sex ed books my parents gave me! The mysteries of women would soon be ours to unveil!

So I’m examining these breasts – naked breasts! – and my mom asks what I’m up to. And, well, I cracked. I sang like a canary and confessed everything.

I didn’t get in trouble, but the magazines were confiscated. Scott’s parents were spoken with. I apologized to Scott, who apologized to me for dumping them on me while my mom was basically in the room.

But the best part was that the confiscated magazines were left on top of the microwave in the kitchen for a few weeks, until my parents figured out what to do with them, so I had plenty of time to read them when my parents weren’t around.

(The first Playboy I remember specifically was the 25th anniversary edition, which my grandfather had a copy of in his study. Mmmm, Candy Loving.)

25

Heh. I had the opposite experience, and I’m sure it is documented in some other threads over the past few years, but I’m playing the lazy card.

I was masturbating before I even know what that meant or that I was doing so. So when I got around to actually actively masturbating (around the age of 12 or so, and thanks, of course, to the sexual education so aggressively provided by Penthouse Forum) I was simultaneously completely shocked and woefully dissappointed that I was already well-aquainted with the “mind-blowing” sensation that I had achieved, and there would be no new firewords to blow my mind…at least not until 10 years later, when I first slept with a woman. :smiley:

26

I know there are more stories out there…don’t be shy…pet-luring kissy sounds

27

I got started young. I’m a child of the Internet, no doubt there, but I still appreciate holding a centerfold in your hand.

I remember when my family got Corel Draw and its image archive. I began playing with it and I found it had vector graphics of ‘beautiful women’ in truth mostly line drawings. But being the quick and wit kid I was I found they made me feel funny. Unfortunately all the ones in there were not naked, but I was not to be stopped by a fact like that.

Corel had a feature called “Break apart” and it took the vector and broke apart its components so each could be selected individually. So by doing this to a clothed woman you could see her “naked” underneath. In truth it was simply her form and flesh coloring, she had no parts under her clothes. So I would sit on the computer when no one was home or when I though I could get away with it and I would break apart the image.

One day while doing this I was surprised as my dad suddenly walked into the room. I hopped out of the chair and moved to cover the screen. “Whatcha got there son?”

“Nothin…”

I could tell he wasn’t going to let that slide so I thought fast.

“It’s a surprise for you daddy!” That did it.

“Oh. Alright then.” He turned around and headed back out of the room. Once I was sure he was gone I resumed my messing around. I was about to close out and go do something else and I realized I had painted myself into a corner. I had to actually MAKE something for dad. Damn! I don’t remember what I made, but it was horrid, some race car certificate thing.

Skip forward a couple of years to the glory days of Internet pron sharing, my friends and I in high school would share CDs code named ‘Happy Discs.’ We didn’t care about preferences, if you wanted in the circle, you made your cd and contributed it to the growing pool of resources. This was a black ops team too, no outsiders, no discussion except with approved words, and once you were in, you were in until the day you died (or graduated as the case may be).

I admit I was a central hub of the ‘Happy Discs’ due to my Internet abilities and my connections on the IRC porn channels, and so I become the godfather of porn among my friends. If they wanted something, they could come to me and ask for it, and I’d find it. Thankfully none of them wanted the bad stuff, I mean, I never had anything more than hair color or ethnicity or occasionally a ‘type’ of shoot. They were all pretty mundane in comparison to what was out there.

On top of all this, I built my porn stacks on a computer in the main room. So I had to operate very carefully with my hand natively resting on the Alt+F4 button, but not just be ready to close the window - I had to be ready to switch modes and act like I was doing something. Always being on the desktop when your parents walk by wasn’t exactly convincing and I could feel the heat slowly rise as the parents got curious.

I think they believed I was hacking actually, I mean I was a serious computer user and they were stunned when I took our ISP logon time to over 100 hours in a month. I would catch mom peeking at me around the corner of the room trying to see what I was doing. I got very good at hearing people walking on carpet. I was a desktop using ninja ready to finish the mission and escape without detection…

Yes, the loss of the magazine is a sad sad thing, but I think the Internet opens a whole new realm.

28

If you go back to the 1920’s-'50’s, you’d encounter Tijuana Bibles.

I used to own a Taschen photography book of erotic nudie pics by mid-late 19th-C. pornographers. IIRC these were done mostly in France and maybe Germany. Interesting and eye-opening, for sure.

A lot of archaic porn makes much of the modern stuff seem impoverished and debased by comparison.

29

Plus, web pages don’t get stuck together.

30

Growing up, I did a lot of hanging out at the library–reading, exploring, etc. Naturally, one day, I discovered the collective works of Longarm and Lone Star, which were usually mixed in the Western paperbacks with Louis L’Amour and co. Generally speaking, covers like these were teases, promising much but only yielding elliptical romantic encounters couched in fuzzy, Harlequin euphamisms.

But not these books. Oh no. A cursory exploration of each would result in incredibly intense, extremely hardcore, unquestionably X-rated passages, often several pages in length. :eek: :smiley: For a 10-year old, it was fantastic. Sure, there weren’t any pictures, but the extensive descriptions more than made up for it. And it just looked like you were “really” into your book.

Ah, memories.

31

Being born in 1970 was fortuitous from a porn-hound point of view. It meant that I was at the right age to enjoy a natural progression of porn exposure as the new media came online. My first exposure was to a Playboy in my folks closet. A good starting point, I think. In those days, the ladies were more classy and pretty and didn’t have the skankiness that pervades even Playboy today. I think that helped give me a healthier understanding of pornography than if I found a hardcore flick right at the begining. After that, I saw Penthouse, a progression towards the hardcore even though it was still tame from a porn POV.

In the late 70s most parents had an 8mm projector and so I was able to graduate to shaky “home movie” style porn. Then came VCRs. My folks didn’t get one until long after everyone else did (It seemed to me). So I was tortured because all my friends had or had seen a porn flick and I hadn’t. When we did get a VHS system, it turns out all my friends were watching Betamax tapes. Finally, I was able to get my own 1,112th generation dubbed tape and it blew my little hormone-marinated mind. It was the famous “Debbie Does Dallas” by the way. A good porn flick, especially for a teen. It was funny because we had a cheerleader at my highschool who looked just like the star.

Nowadays, you kids with your internet and instant online porn spam being tossed at you. You don’t know how easy you have it.

32

I went to see Paul Feig read from his new book Superstud on Tuesday and he described finding mild erotica anywhere he could to fuel his feverish pre-adolescent mind: his mom’s Vanity Fair mags, books on photography, etc. It was really hilarious and he had everybody rolling. If he’s at a book store in your town, I’d recommend seeing him. Or just reading the book.

33

But the viruses are equally irritating.

34

Yeah, but you grow hair on your mouse.

35

Oh, yeah,
I forgot,
We also found my uncle’s stash of “porno” too, when his was remodeling his house from the ground up. In the bottom of a box of old musty underwear was a stash of Sexology magazines. They had no pictures but contained the words penis vagina etc. We got bored with it and it disappeared we my uncle needed rags to paint his house. :stuck_out_tongue:

36

I used to look at my uncle’s Playboys when he was gone bowling, until I discovered gay pr0n online, I didn’t worry much about being caught, since I did it in his room with the door locked while he was gone.

37

I hear ya. I started with the sneaked Playboy and Penthouse magazines too, then when I hit full puberty around 1983, the era of videotape porn arrived. I only knew about it from ads in the mags, though, until I was 15 and got a fake ID from a place in Times Square… Which was also then a hotbed of porn shops run by Bengalis who squinted at my fake ID, then let me buy stuff. Whoa.