May 21, 2012

The Old Toolbox In The Woods

 I can't remember what the conversation was about at the time, but I remember the phrase that caught my attention.  "Everybody seems to have a 'Porn in the Woods' story".  When I asked what that meant, my friend told me that many people have tales of how they just found porn laying around when they were little.  It should surprise nobody that I sure did.  Though, mine was actually in the woods rather than under a sibling's mattress.

I blame my childhood friends Briana and Lisa for the fact that I grew up to be a raging pervert.
Mostly Brianna.  She and I were pretty close.  We hung out after school, had sleepovers, shared secrets, and played doctor.  Yes, doctor.  We were both curious, and didn't really know that you were normally supposed to involve the opposite sex.  There wasn't anything sexual about it.  It was more "Does mine look the same as yours?".  And when it turned out they did, that was it.  Curiosity satisfied.

It should come as no surprise that she's the one who told me about the toolbox full of porn she found in the woods.  I can't remember how old we were, but I know it was before we left elementary school.  We both grew up in a wooded area, and finding items that time forgot wasn't uncommon.  But this wasn't just anything.  This was an old, metal tackle box with close to 5 different skin magazines in it.  I say close to because large portions of them are moldy and water damaged.  It was still enough for us to read the comics, look at the photos, and come to the realization that we didn't know a damn thing about what was going on.  We knew it was dirty, but we didn't know why.  Even so, it turned us on.  I think it did because it was a secret.  We didn't tell a soul about that cache of forbidden squirms, but we'd sneak back to that spot every nice day we could.

I remember seeing sinewy bodies in apparent ecstasy, men with their hands wrapped firmly around their members, guiding them into hidden recesses of women.  Like baby birds, they opened their mouths to be fed, their faces glistening with a substance I had no concept of at the time.  I saw women embracing women, men embracing men, and any combination of the two.  I had no idea I was looking at swingers, gay porn, or facials, but I knew I wanted more!  Looking that those images made me tingly in my girl bits.  It's wasn't long after that I started looking at every object in my room as a possible dildo.  When you're 9 or so, this can be a real challenge.  If your mother catches you using a Barbie as a masturbation aid, you're going to be in therapy till you're 18.

Eventually, weather and repeated reading degraded the magazines so severely that they were little more than fragments of paper on the forest floor.  No matter though, they'd long since grown stale; the images no longer titillated us like they once had.  It was our time to move on to bigger and better things.  Briana and I parted ways after 6th grade.  I would later discover VHS porn, and my love of a vocal man in middle school.  Later, when scaling the bookcase in the living room, I happened across my parent's dogeared copy of the Joy of Sex.  However, that find more sticks in my memory because the sketches of hippies doin' it scared me for years afterwards.  *shudder*

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