I am a newbie to the industry side of things, no doubt.
I am simply a fan.
When I was about 10, I used to sneak looks at a copy of one of Xaviera Hollander's "Happy Hooker" books that dad kept hidden in the bag that he kept the shoe shining supplies in. Okay, he also hid it in his underwear drawer, and I found it there, too. *GRIN*
Then it was an issue of Penthouse Magazine that he kept hidden in the same two places. I know he knew I was reading it, but he never said squat to me. I guess he kind of considered it a rite of passage for a boy.
After he passed away when I was 14, though, I had to turn to other sources.
Sure, there was late night television in New York City, where the local public access would run shows like "Midnight Blue" by Screw Magazine's Al Goldstein and I could catch female (and male) strippers on "
The Robyn Bird Show."
Then a couple of high school classmates told me about a place that would sell adult magazines without carding - a coup when you're a horny, dateless 15 year old. Why was I dateless? Well, that's another post. *GRIN*
But before I digress too far, let's get back to this tale. This "store" (which was literally a hole in the wall on Lexington Ave. in Manhattan) sold me my first adult magazine. I remember how sweaty my palms were when I picked up the magazine (a copy of
D-Cup) and held it in my trembling hands as I placed it on the counter before the guy working the cash register. He was a chubby, Middle Eastern gentleman. He looked at the magazine and looked back at me.
"How old are you?" he asked in his relatively thick accent.
My voice cracking as I said it, I responded, "Eighteen, sir."
"Uh, huh," he said, a smirk slightly forming at the corners of his mouth. He then told me how much and I paid him. He slid the magazine into a plain brown paper bag and handed it to me, his face graced with something between a smirk and a genuine smile.
I tried to avoid direct eye contact as I took the bag from him and put it into my backpack as I walked back out into the streets of the city. But I knew on that day that I was hooked.
I bought countless copies of D-Cup,
Gent and
Plumpers and Big Women magazines. I also managed, when I had extra cash, to get my hands on some video tapes. They were the 2 hour and 4 hour compliations (this was before DVD), so I got to see a lot more than I probably should have.
Granted, this was the early to mid 1990s, when it was a lot easier to get your hands on this stuff - especially in Manhattan.
Eventually, it was on to college, which was in the nascent days of DVD and the internet. I had moved on to buying
Score and
Voluptuous Magazines from the local porn shops in my college town. Once I got my car, it became even easier to visit these shops and buy what I wanted. DVDs made life even better, and getting internet access in my dorm room and apartment also facilitated more watching and learning about all of the little things that turn me on or intrigued me.
Of course, I've had relationships. I'm not a complete and total pervert that doesn't know how to interact with the opposite sex. If nothing, I think that learning from the early days of porn helped me become a more attentive lover in the bedroom. I don't necessarily think that that would be the case if I were 15 years old and just discovering porn today.
But anyway, that's where I've come from and how I got here.
Samantha 38G
