Photo shop
Before digital cameras and picture phones gave us an easy way to create our own erotica, enthusiastic amateur snappers of bedroom antics had to entrust their intimate images to the local photo-processing lab.

My first Saturday job was at a large high street camera emporium and much of our trade was sending off film for developing and printing. For the record, no it wasn’t completely automated, yes staff reviewed orders for ‘quality control’ purposes and no, that wasn’t always completely at random. But I digress.

One day in walked a rather ample lady, plain featured, wild hair; think a younger Susan Boyle on a good day. She’d lost her counterfoil slip for her photos, which was fairly common and not really a problem. I took the name and picked out a couple of possible candidates.

“We’ll just check if these are the ones” said I, opening the first pack and fanning out a few prints on the counter. Her various children craned their necks to see the exciting new family photos.

I looked down, then up, then down again. The enduring horror is probably a combination of my embarrassment, the images themselves and the realisation that those kids had just seen their mum, recumbent, legs akimbo and exhibiting her frankly astonishing muffro to maximum effect.

All I could manage to say as she hurriedly gathered up the pictures and stormed out of the shop was

“Yup, those are definitely yours….”
( custardthehedgehog, Fri 11 May 2012, 14:22, 10 replies)

What was astonishing about it?
Out of scientific interest...
(Bear Pookie The Frankly Challenged. Halloween is coming to town., Fri 11 May 2012, 14:35, closed)

It looked like The Predator's face.

( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Fri 11 May 2012, 14:37, closed)

T'was the extensive, overgrown and unkempt ladygarden that sent me running for the mind bleach; "Like Terry Waite's allotment" to coin a phrase...
( custardthehedgehog, Fri 11 May 2012, 14:52, closed)

A badly packed kebab, maybe?

( shinyshinyscalp less a man, more a way of life, Fri 11 May 2012, 16:24, closed)

dropped on a barbers floor

( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Sat 12 May 2012, 12:18, closed)

Hahahaha
At Boots any saucy pics were passed around the canteen, so that when the people involved came in to collect the snaps, all the staff already knew who they were
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 11 May 2012, 14:55, closed)

*clicks*
worth it just for the wonderfully descriptive noun "muffro"!
(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Fri 11 May 2012, 15:16, closed)

Back in the late 1980s, I thought I'd solved this problem
I certainly wouldn't take any left-handed photos to Boots - did anyone NOT expect them to be passed around? So I thought I'd cracked it by buying a polaroid camera.

The first time I tried it with my GF, however, I discovered that the basic ones could only focus down to 1.2m ... and it's really, really difficult to hold/point/operate a camera that far away from your own pounding pink parts! Lots of pictures of the ceiling, a foot, or blurry pink blobs with perfectly focused wallpaper in the background. Sigh.

Bought a closer-focusing model the very next day...
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 11 May 2012, 15:59, closed)

I had a friend who worked at an overnight processing lab
He'd regularly get a couple of rolls of porn from Steve in Leicester to develop, so he just made sure to develop a set for himself as well
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 11 May 2012, 16:09, closed)

Of course these days, with mobile phones
Anyone can take live footage of fledgling pop stars noshing them off...

Assuming it happens, of course. Bloody kids don't know their born etc.
( shinyshinyscalp less a man, more a way of life, Fri 11 May 2012, 16:26, closed)