Ah yes...
Live TV. Oh Live TV. Nothing says "quality entertainment" like midgets bouncing on trampolines. But I remember a show- the name itself the paradigm of televisual perfection: Topless Darts. Yes, these women would play darts (topless, as the name suggests), and the winner would get to put on a lovely cotton tshirt. As a young lad, that was the greatest thing I've ever witnessed.

And I remember, quite clearly, them playing on the Titanic, with the "tit" bit intentionally pronounced quite strongly. And they played with TITanium darts etc. Puns and porn = Excellence.
( Naive Amoeba Bored Cig, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 17:08, Reply)

Art
I'm not convinced that this was my first time, but it was pretty close. I went to Amsterdam for a weekend with my Dad and his girlfriend, which is odd enough. As part of the cultural experience we visited a modern art gallery which had a temporary Gilbert & George (I think) exhibition on. Clearly my father had not realised exactly what this was going to be as we walked into the room surrounded by moving neon light depictions of men noshing other men off and the like. I think it was mostly gay pron...might explain a lot.
(bap, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 16:54, Reply)

Channel 5
Calling a porn virgins- channel 5 tonight 11pm- Shaving Ryans Privates
(Dingo21 killing hippos on, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 16:34, Reply)

Armpit fetish
I'm not sure if it's because I recently lost my virginity and maybe finally been sexually awakened but I really have a thing for armpits- there so dark and mysterious I just want to put my finger up there and thanks to the internet maybe one day I will be able to act out my dream.
(Dingo21 killing hippos on, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 16:30, Reply)

A view from the Daily Mail
With the presence of the internet today, Porn has no longer any mystery or exoticism. No longer do our children have to sneak a copy of "Readers Wives - Bums Special" out inside a copy of Whizzer and Chips. No more can a copy of Knave be found behind the bike sheds, with some of the pages stuck together.

No, now kids can find any amount of depraved filth on the interweb. There are even sites (so I'm told) where its categorised alphabetically so they can quickly locate their chosen fetish and pull themselves off until their eyes cross.

In my day some tits and arse was availed through a stolen or borrowed copy of a jazz mag. If today's youth fancies something a little more "recherchez", he can find websites with photographs of, for example, Overweight Negresses micturating on upturned stuffed cheetas whilst a thin pale dwarf woman looks on slowly wrapping herself in clingfilm.

Signed
Rear Admiral Lt Arthur Biggington-Small (Mrs)
(LunarJim, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 16:19, Reply)

Free porn
Is there still a tradition of porn stashed in pubic places (parks etc) or has this interweb killed it off.

Sound a bit like Stuart Maconie, "white dog pooh, crap sweets........."
(Qubert Funkalarmanlage, damn German has some fine words., Mon 29 Jan 2007, 15:21, Reply)

Double Bestiality
My idea for a new kind of porn, twice as perverted as bestiality, has somehow failed to take off.



Oh yeah. Double Bestiality.

Ditto my bestiality / scat combo.



I was going to try and combine bestiality, necrophilia and bondage, but I realised I'm flogging a dead horse.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 15:03, Reply)

On the cards
Women in the seventies all had big hair, big baps and - I recall - were big on skintight satin bodysuits. My dad sent off for a set of topless playing cards from a voucher on his Old Spice or Brut aftershave and gave me the cards. I took 'em to school and became toast of the year - until Mrs Calvert confiscated them. I was 8 or 9.

Scroll forward about 10 years and I'm in Greece. I spy a deck of hard-core cards next to the chewing gum in a corner shop and purchase them. It was my first hardcore: anal, facials, double penetration etc. I wanked so much that I could barely walk and I still have total visual recall of the entire deck (favourite one: ten of clubs = blonde riding an enormous black schlong).

When I left the island, I hid the pack inside a drystone wall on a path heading out of Vathy on the island of Ithaca. Bet they're still there.
(frankspencer, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 14:16, Reply)

Sexanory
2 stories spring to mind.

First story occurred round at a friends house, Lets call him Tom, (bet you can't guess why). He was the first one in my group of friends to get sky, and had recorded some WWF wrestling on VHS. The one where a guy died because he forgot to tie himself to a rope or something along those lines.
Anyway, we watched said tape, they'd cut the bit with him falling to his demise so wasn't much fun, until the end when we discovered the recording had run over to a full show of "Sexanory". This little episode was 30 minutes long of a rather hot, middle aged woman, telling a story. This episode was entitled "The office party".
She spoke to me and Tom about these two workers wandering off to the managers office and dancing the sideways monstermash on his desk, and she rubbed herself and slipped off her clothes in line with the story as she sprawled across an office table, trying to make us get more involved in the story I assume.
Great fun! Only ever saw it once before we destroyed the evidence for fear of being caught however, but sexanory will be on my mind for some years to come.

Second story came about upon cleaning out the garden shed with Mum, her boyfriend Ian, and his son of 18, Oliver.
Got it all spic and span. That was apart for the locked up old chest of draws at the back of the shed.
Popped it open and lo and behold my brother of 14, at the time, had filled it to the brim with razzle, escort, page 3, UK dogging mags, classic seventies mags with more bush than our garden, in fact if ever there was a jazz mag sold, it was in that cupboard.
Knowing my brother's immanent return with his friends Mum, boyfriend, his son and I haul the stacks onto the driveway for all to see.
Cue 30 mins later a very red faced brother and mates come into the lounge. I often wonder what the neighbors thought too, but we've since moved so who cares!
( palmr The speaking clock says:, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 13:45, Reply)

An 11th birthday treat.
On my 11th birthday we went bowling at Superbowl in Ipswich then headed into town for a Macdonalds. I needed a crap so I toddled of to the toilet. Imagine my delight to find a folded up copy of Club jammed into the toilet paper dispenser, I took said article and showed it to my mates. It did not occur to any of us that the person who left it may in fact be working in the kitchens and happily finished off our meal.

On a side note the same magazine was found by mum one day when sorting out some of the crap in my room. When confronted I said it belonged to the lodger we had at the time, am not sure whether it contributed to it but he left soon after.
( Statler&Waldorf I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK., Mon 29 Jan 2007, 13:23, Reply)

King Frat
King Frat was a strange American film from the 70s that I saw when I was about 10. Way, way, way too young: imagine Animal House or Porky's, with dollops of nudity and scatological humour. It wasn't strictly pr0n, but had the "Terrence & Philip" effect on me, and did contain some very nude scenes. This is where I learned about link between "Spanish Fly" and "Priapism", for example.

It was so bizarre and tiny-mind-warping that for years I thought I had imagined it in some teenage dream... but no, it was real, and still has fans to this day: see kingfrat.com!

I can't remember the first "proper" pr0n I ever saw. I could never take it seriously, it was so wildly different from my own experiences that it looked totally unnatural and staged - which it is. of course. Real women do have hair there, y'know, consider it complimentary dental floss.
( bnt what, me worry?, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 13:15, Reply)

Way back in the day....
...it was slightly more problematic to watch a 'dirty film', as they were lovingly known. I think I must have been around 16 when invited round to a friends house one evening for viewing such a film as his parents were going out.

Now it wasn't a matter of just slipping in the video - oh no, these were the days before such luxuries. The whole front room had to be rearranged to accomodate the projector, the projector screen, and chairs in 'theatre' fashion.

Whilst the experience was illuminating and still fondly remembered, the most vivid memory was the sheer terror of worrying whether said friends parents would return early. Other stories here tell of just in time remote control flicks to prevent embarrassment - you can imagine the dilemma the 10 of us would have been in should someone have burst in unexpectedly to find us sat in two lines passing the popcorn with the only noise the whirring of the projector.
(tell me about the rabbits, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 12:39, Reply)

Possibly not my first "encounter"...
... but at the tender age of ten, went to Holland with my Mum and her boyfriend, Adam. My mum and I used to go over quite a lot, as she's Dutch, to see relatives.

Now most of Holland is very different from Amsterdam, but on this occasion we went there to show Adam "the sites".

It was there though that a bouncer/tout outside a live sex show came out with the brilliant line of "Come inside. Family show - see how to make babies"

Amazingly we didn't go in, and my sex education was considerably more conventional.
( @><|= w0nu!) or cunt to my friends, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 12:28, Reply)

Aha
Spent this past weekend in Brighton with the missus, my best mate, my best mate's brother and his 3 year-old son. Best mate's nephew and brother are sleeping in the flat's bedroom, the rest of us crash out in the living room.

Sunday morning, mate's brother emerges from the bedroom and says to mate: "You'd better hide your DVDs a bit more carefully in future, little Joe found one on your bedside table and wanted to watch it. It took me ages to persuade him that he should watch something else instead."

The DVD? Only that classic of the genre, Dog Fuckers 18.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 11:52, Reply)

Woodland treasures
As a kid, me and my friend used to scour the local woods for discarded grumble, but we never found anything beyond a few Sunday Sports and the like...except for one time when we discovered the empty box and packaging for an inflatable love pig. Takes all sorts, I suppose.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 11:46, Reply)

My mates dads caravan
was extremely grotty, mouldy and smelt funny. We broke in one day to find ripped out porn pictures all over the walls and ceiling. They were of the extremely ropey readers wives type, fat, veiny, pendulous breasts, big permed hair and the hairiest minges you have ever seen. Plus the blackened out eyes. Was about as from erotic as I could imagine. Especially with the smell in that caravan. Anyway, in between these magazine pictures of these grot-bag look-a-likes was some photos of some woman in various states of undress standing in a wood. Who is that we enquired? Apparently it was his aunt, as in his dads sister. The dirty cunt we thought. Another mate was so appalled we broke back in there later and took a shit in one of the drawers. Kids eh? Tsssk.
( DumbMonkey The penis mightier than the sword, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 11:44, Reply)

Woodland treasures yes again yes.
My first ever porn experience was around 11, when some pals showed me a mag they'd found in the woods. As we were village kids, we'd spend a lot of time in various woods on bikes and during my teenage years, we came across a fair number of big stashes.

The first stash we found when I was about 13. This was a huge amount of early 80s top shelf mags. Instead of splitting it equally, I took two mags whilst a pal and his brother took the rest (two carrier bags packed to the brim).

This ended in disaster as my mate's brother joked that he'd tell their parents about it. My mate flew into a panic, tore up all the mags and put them in a cardboard box, which then (bafflingly) he set afloat on a river.

A ship of runined porn.

I was gutted as a third of them were blatantly mine.

Over my teen years, I was lucky enough to be part of various teams that uncovered a further three caches of porn, including one that filled two binbags.

That one was unsurpassed until the early 90s, when a porn-obsessed friend of ours dumped about 30 kilos of mags on me in a surprise visit. I told him he should have dumped it in the woods, simply as a matter of respect.
(redcamera, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 11:20, Reply)

NSFW
I reall think this question needs to carry a warning.
On more than one occasion while working and reading this week's answers, I've come dangerously close to answering calls with the phrase "good afternoon, Weapon-X fwapping" (instead of 'speaking')
This is one of many near misses. The last thing that a little old lady from essex wants to hear about is me *ahem* loving myself.
(The Cosmic Fool Became aware that the bird is indeed the word on, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 10:35, Reply)

Unlike the rest of you ...
In darkest Africa we didn't have woods with handily secreted stashes of Razzle and Over 40s. We had to make do with what eroticism we could make out from the front and contents of Wilbur Smith books.

Some of them are very long ....
(Biff..., Mon 29 Jan 2007, 10:23, Reply)

Swiss Ruining School
Everyone has heard about the famous Swiss finishing schools where posh young girls learn how to fold napkins and pass the salt, etc., but there was once a very exclusive 'ruining school'. It's purpose? To introduce young ladies to every aspect of sexual activity. Porn, essentially.

The syllabus: Unit 1: How to seduce a man with body language and dress. Unit 2: How to pleasure a man using one's hands. Unit 3: How to pleasure a man using one's mouth. Unit 4: How to pleasure a man in intercourse. Unit 5: Special skills

Fortunately for our purposes, a diary exists from a girl who attended this school and became one of its most notorious graduates. I quote:

" ... the girls were ushered into a room, wherein we saw a number of men sitting on leather seats. They were quite naked, each with an enormous erection. We had seen pictures of course, and some of us had had direct experience, but to see those formidable members quivering hard with anticipation made me feel at once terrified and aroused. I felt blood rushing to to my clitoris.

'OK, girls. Everyone choose a gentleman,' said Miss Smart, the Manual Skils teacher.

I chose a handsome man with a large and attractive member. He smiled at me in a reassuring way and I was overcome with a desire to see his face contorted in the pleasure of release. It would come soon enough.

'Now, girls. Take the member in your hand, gently but firmly. You may stroke it from base to tip with your fingertips ... good. Now, take a good grip and begin to move it like this - keep the rhythm regular.'

I watched Miss Smart and began to manipulate my gentleman's flesh. He began to shift his hips as I felt the hot flesh between my fingers. In no time he was unconsciously thrusting his hips in time to my hand and his mouth opened a little. I felt a rush of power and control - I could turn this muscular man into my slave with just this rhythmical movement of my hand! Were I to stop, he would plead with me to continue.

As I continued, I heard the inadvertant gasps of the girls around me as their gentlemen came. I looked my man in the eye and gave his rigid flesh an extra squeeze. At that moment, I felt the pulsing jets coming through the hardness, and a gout of hot semen erupted forth down my blouse. A droplet landed on my lips and I quickly licked it off, keen to taste this stuff. That seemed to enrage him even more and he continued to pump forth, coating my hand in his hot syrup.

'Well done, girls!" Tomorrow I wil show you how to prolong the experience and intensify the orgasm'.

I couldn't wait to have that stiffness in my palm again. And I wanted more of that stuff on my lips.

EDIT: This is actually an idea for a novel I'll write if anyone wants to offer me an advance. I'll also do it in magazine installments.
(frankspencer, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 9:24, Reply)

three words
three words: Jenny, Agutter, shower.

Saw Werewolf again recently and not much of a stir. But then back in those days, a naked woman was enough. Nowadays, after years of the internet, anything short of a doity-mouthed squealing Barbie doll bouncing up and down like her life depended on it isn't worth the click.

Ahhh. How times change.

*click*
(evilpenguin Ur polar bears r wel gay, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 9:04, Reply)

Porky's
As a 12 year old girl, my idea of pron was a guy kissing a girl. Until Porky's.
Mum had decided the twin and I were old enough to be left on our own, and let us have a friend each round while she went out for a couple of hours.
Twin's friend was able to get a copy of Porky's.
Twin's friend spent the entire move with a cushion on his lap. When my friend and I moved it away, we laughed and laughed and laughed and told mum.
Oooops, twin wasn't please, neither was his friend, neither was mum.

Did we do wrong???? We wondered what that thing was in his pants!! So asked.....
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 8:44, Reply)

Ah, so naive...
I remember first hearing about porn from my friends at school. We just got the internet at home, so off I pop to try it out!
"This can't be too hard to find," my 13-year old mind thinks, "double you double you double you dot sex dot com".
And I got it. Easy!
Unfortunately, I also had no flipping idea what History or cookies were, so next time my (very conservative) Mum goes on the computer and tries to type in an address she is flooded by a torrent of childishly accurate URLs like 'www.bumsex.com'.

Of course, being a little prick, I blamed it on my 'influential' friend. I thought they believed me at the time...
( Christian Bale of Hay in a field, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 8:35, Reply)

a different kind of internet sex

but not really a different kind of humour:

www.dcs.gla.ac.uk/~wpc/
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 7:40, Reply)

a guy I know worked in the sexual health area
and thus worked with and had a lot of contact with a lot of flamboyantly gay / ex-prostitute / transexual types.

However their manager was very straight-laced, leading to office speculation about what he'd be into sexually.

One day the manager left his computer on, and they had a bit of a look, to find that he'd been looking at the following internet ad:

"at last - a bitch who'll fuck you up the arse and then make you suck the shit off her cock."
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 7:37, Reply)

My Dear Mum
Wanted to rent the classic, camp, "Flash Gordon" to show some kids that she works with (not as in colleagues, as in they're part of her work). Anyway, she toddles off to the video store and comes back with something decidedly different. The in fact rented "Flesh Gordon" the even cheesier porn version. I'm still trying to find a copy.
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 1:57, Reply)

My son,scarred for life?As if.....
Coming home form work one day my wife takes me too one side and asks if i,m missing any porn films, I says no ,and then she says that my youngest son of ten and his friend found a film in amongst my software discs,(It was a blank dvd) perhaps he had a homing beacon go figure ,anyway she catches them b4 they can switch it off,to which she red faced removes the disc(which wasn,t too hardcore).......And the immortal line from my son?....."Dont worry mam we fast forwarded it to the best bits"....explaining to my sons friends mother, thankfully she laughed it off and said that they,ll find outthat stuff soon enough for themselves anyway....If your expecting a length gag i cant be arsed.....
(andycrass loves two hats on, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 1:42, Reply)

If you go down to the woods today
So there we are, in the woods at the back of my school. "What's this?" I ask. I bend down, and find a single nude picture torn from a magazine. Not a magazine, not a page, but a single image torn from a page. My friends and I checked it out, this brown haired lovely with pubic hair you wouldn't believe... As I found it, I claimed it as my own.

In an attic somewhere, 25 years later, that single image is still hidden inside a teddy bear of mine.
(Bonedwarf is the size of a lemon, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 1:09, Reply)

French porn, I believe
I think my very first experience of porn was when my family visited a friend of my Dad in France. We were out there on holiday and we drove out to spend the day with another family who had a holiday home there. Their neighbours were a French family with two sons, and my brother and I were told to go off and play with the other lads so that the oldies could all chat.

Given the obvious language barrier, there wasn't much we could do together. So the eldest son took us into his bedroom and proceded to get out a load of girly mags from under his bed. I still remember some of the stuff inside...a two page spread of minge close-ups with artistically painted pubes and a cartoon strip in which (it seemed) women in a hotel would get fucked by a robotic cock machine. I thought it was great stuff, but my younger brother went and told my parents what we'd seen in the car as we left, so we were subjected to the embarrassing lecture about porn being degrading to women. Bah!

But, if there's one thing this experience taught me, it's that when conventional language breaks down, there's nothing that brings people together like the harmonic power of well-thumbed jazz mags. The UN should have a ready supply.
(Fuiru Sting, where is thy death?, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 0:50, Reply)

It's the third one down....
I too was the recipient of the "porn found in the woods" Fairy (like the Tooth Fairy but appears when you first get fuzz on your nuts)
This being the Eighties and the mags being Playboys, the minge area in the photos was typically hirsute.
This allowed my best mate to tell me with absolute certainty that amongst all that hair was four holes.
The first one was where the girl weed from, the second was where babies came out of.
The third was where you put your willy in, and the fourth was where poo came out.
I of course believed him (he believed it too).
Hence when the local slut allowed me to finger her (at the age of 12 behind the local scout hut)
I proceed to take my two used fingers
around my 3 friends who were with me, asking them to smell them, just to make sure i'd got the right hole.
They all agreed it smelt so bad that I had must have got it wrong.
(THJahar smell my fingers, Mon 29 Jan 2007, 0:18, Reply)