My first experience of porn
So there I am, aged 11, crawling through the woods with the Scouts when we come upon a big pile of magazines stuck into a tree. Risking losing the game by being seen, we stand up to knock them down.
They flutter down in a big heap - and behold, they are full of nudey ladies!
Crawling through the woods suddenly lost its appeal...
What was your first experience of porn?
( , Thu 25 Jan 2007, 15:29)
So there I am, aged 11, crawling through the woods with the Scouts when we come upon a big pile of magazines stuck into a tree. Risking losing the game by being seen, we stand up to knock them down.
They flutter down in a big heap - and behold, they are full of nudey ladies!
Crawling through the woods suddenly lost its appeal...
What was your first experience of porn?
( , Thu 25 Jan 2007, 15:29)
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Stuck In A Lift
Like a lot of twelve year-olds, I had a paper round, and once a month I had a delivery that took me to a block of flats that wasn't otherwise on my route. I'd get in the lift, press the top button and deliver a magazine wrapped in brown paper to one of the flats. I never knew what the magazine was, but I found out the day the lift failed between floors. After pressing the alarm for several minutes and not hearing a response, I sat down on the floor of the lift and pondered what to do next. Only one possibility, really: I unwrapped the package to reveal, much to my eager suprise, a pristine copy of Hustler magazine. Apart from the extremely graphic nature of the shots, the thing I remember most about the experience was the smell of the varnish used on the pages, and the look of surprise on the fireman's face as he prised the door open an hour later to reveal an extremely embarrased-looking child attempting to conceal a well-thumbed porn mag...
( , Fri 26 Jan 2007, 9:41, Reply)
Like a lot of twelve year-olds, I had a paper round, and once a month I had a delivery that took me to a block of flats that wasn't otherwise on my route. I'd get in the lift, press the top button and deliver a magazine wrapped in brown paper to one of the flats. I never knew what the magazine was, but I found out the day the lift failed between floors. After pressing the alarm for several minutes and not hearing a response, I sat down on the floor of the lift and pondered what to do next. Only one possibility, really: I unwrapped the package to reveal, much to my eager suprise, a pristine copy of Hustler magazine. Apart from the extremely graphic nature of the shots, the thing I remember most about the experience was the smell of the varnish used on the pages, and the look of surprise on the fireman's face as he prised the door open an hour later to reveal an extremely embarrased-looking child attempting to conceal a well-thumbed porn mag...
( , Fri 26 Jan 2007, 9:41, Reply)
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