May 30th, 2012, 11:30 PM | #81 |
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I first bought porn from a newsagents just after my 15th birthday in the early middle 70s. The shop was quite near my school and I was nervous of being caught by friends or - much worse - teachers.
Most of the shop assistants were female in the newsagents where I bought porn in my teens and early 20s. I had no embarrassment buying the likes of Men Only and P*nthouse from them as in those days they followed the model of naked girls plus literary and sports articles, but I used to feel embarrassed buying the likes of Rustler or Whitehouse, which were at the time having a brief flirtation with hardcore, because I knew the women knew that I was buying them purely to wank over photos of girls opening their twats and arses, and sometimes being shagged. The most extraordinary experience I ever had with a female assistant was when buying a few Knave and Mayfair level mags from a middle aged woman called Jill. I went in the shop often and would buy the more explicit mags when they were in, but on this day they had only the milder mags that I'd selected. I put my selection on the counter to pay and Jill said "Whitehouse and Rustler have come in but I haven't put them on the shelves yet". She them immediately reached down by her right side, brought a couple of copies up and put them on the counter facing me, opened them and, looking me in the eyes. turned the pages to show me photo after photo of girls spreading their cunts wide before saying "they're good, aren't they!" I bought the mags but it didn't occur to me until later that it was probably a come-on - I found her rather skinny for my tastes, and the shop itself was on a small town high-street, so I was very much concerned by the thought of another customer coming in and witnessing this extraordinary situation. I carried on buying about 8 mags a month from shops all around north and central Manchester until my mid 40s when the mags mostly got increasingly mediocre and the stuff available on the Web higher quality, more explicit, and more specific to my tastes. I don't think in all my porn buying years I was ever turned on by the experience of buying from a newsagent, perhaps because most of the women I encountered working in these newsagents were at best middle aged and dumpy or scrawny. From my mid 20s onwards I knew exactly what I was looking for, and I would usually make sure I wouldn't be tempted to over-buy or make impulse purchases by taking some of the heat out of my desire by having a good wank before I went on my porn shopping expedition. It's a bad idea to let the little head do the choosing, or so I've found. Despite all this I always preferred being served with my porn by women - it seemed more right that women were facilitating the wanking experience I would be enjoying when I got home with the porn, rather than men. I still buy about 6 mags a year, usually new issues of Buttman, from a little indian newsagent who stocks american import mags. As he's a tiny middle aged guy he's not to my tastes! The rest of my stuff I find mostly for free online.
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May 31st, 2012, 06:16 AM | #82 |
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I turned 18 when I was a senior in high school, and the closest hardcore pornography shop was a 200-mile round trip. About once every other month, I would tell my mom I was "going out" on Friday nights, and make my trip. The guy who worked there most of the time was the classic smut shop owner, a rude, dour toad-faced lout with a low center of gravity, fat and bald with a few wisps of long gray hair on the sides, with an overflowing ashtray perched next to him by the cash register (this was when you could still smoke in your own business). I would try to make the best of it, buying about 6 hardcore magazines and 2 VHSes at a time (this was in the age when the Internet was still in its infancy, and DVDs were still a couple of years away). The fact that I was in a hardcore Catholic family, where sex was simply not discussed, made the trek all the more adventurous.
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May 31st, 2012, 02:07 PM | #83 |
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Absolutely...It started as a rush when I would go into stores on a dare to see if the clerk would let me buy one, usually just a PB or PH. We would scout the stores and some would have the magazines on the rack and you could just grab them and casually stroll up to the counter. There were others that had the magazines behind the counter and you had to ask for what you wanted. It was quite an adrenaline rush more than a turn on at first. Even the days of working with a buddy to slip a cover over the mag to buy "road & track" with the PB or PH hidden.
As i got older and discovered entire stores dedicated to porn(!) it was always a turn on to browse, pick and choose. A hand in the pocket as I walked up and down the aisle. The crap shoot of the mags that were bundled (3 for $10) were always fun because you never knew what you were going to get. There were times that I would be so overwhelmed by just browsing I wouldn't even buy anything. The thing that took it further for me was that after a while my stash would get pretty large and well viewed so I would start cutting out the photos and make a collage o' porn. Some would be regular sized paper, but i would make others poster board sized. There was a whole process to it. First cut the picture to a general size, having to decide which photo on the double page was "worthy", then cutting some more cropped than others, always making sure there was no white visible on the page anywhere. It was a tedious but thrilling bits of artwork i was creating. I had stacks of "new mags", partially cut mags, photos to paste, pages in process and completed "works". (I lived alone and kept very odd hours.) Of course the most fun was once the page was created and thoroughly appreciated, i would sit on the edge of my couch pop a tape in the VHS (Wild Goose Chase sticks out in my mind), lay the collage on the floor in front of me, then cum buckets all over my creation. |
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May 31st, 2012, 03:45 PM | #84 | |
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My wife is Asian so I could assist you with some psychology here. She will probably find you a saddo, however you are spending money in her shop regularly so that balances the issue. Asian woman are incredibly well sussed. Though they do tend to push their children hard in education.
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June 1st, 2012, 05:36 PM | #85 |
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Went to the Indian newsagents myself yesterday. Fantastic experience as usual. I bought brand new batteries for my vibrating cock ring and watched a vid called Tits n Tugs on my portable dvd player in the car on the way to the shop. By the time I parked the car I was as horny as hell having just watched Janet Jade massaging her pleasure globes around some guys dick. I went into the shop and as I had hoped the indian lady was at the counter. I browsed the shelves of porn and discovered 4 issues of Score with massive titted beauties on the cover. I could see the lady watching me as browsed as I could see her in the reflection of the drinks cabinet. My cock was rock hard and positively pulsing under the influence of the vibrating cock ring. I sought out a bottle of hand lotion and some wet wipes and took my haul to the counter where I stood with my hardon making a throbbing tent in my trouser as she added up the bill. Luckily I am quite tall and my hard on was easily visible to her over the counter. The bill came to about £25 but it was well worth it and when I got back to the car I was so fired up I had to quickly switch off the cock ring to avoid cumming. I spent a delicious hour in a layby on the way home wanking over my new mags and another film on the DVD player.
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June 3rd, 2012, 10:57 PM | #86 | |
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I was twenty at the time but looked about sixteen so it must have freaked her out.
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June 4th, 2012, 11:47 AM | #87 | |
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June 5th, 2012, 08:01 PM | #88 |
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I found my Fathers rather small stash of 3 Mayfairs just before taking my "O" levels, and admit that time that should have been spent revising, was spent much more pleasurably wanking.
A friend would regularly elicit copies of an uncles much stronger stuff which kept me going until I passed my driving test at 18. I remember purposefully driving an hour to a large town and excitedly buying my own very first Mayfair (featured Susie of Sherbourn School, and a Pollyanna - A copy since acquired is one of the prides of my collection). Over the next few years, I bought Escorts, Fiestas and Mayfairs where work took me, or on monthly trips to a town about 30 miles away. The shopkeeper where I often went was as many others on here, a scruffy little man, lacking in grace. The roads are pretty quiet around here, and as I got braver, I would wank myself off as I drove, covering my cock with a cloth if I met another vehicle on the road. The pleasure of cumming over a Fiesta readers wife as I sped along remain with me still. On getting serious in romance, my purchases stopped, until my now wife and I started to perk things up by buying mags on our days away. My wifes thrill at being served by a spotty teenage youth, when buying Fiesta, was enjoyed by both of us later. Like many now, I make do with porn sites, we get better free now than we can buy in conventional shops. Sadly I think , the younger generation will miss this particular thrill that we enjoyed. |
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June 11th, 2012, 08:54 PM | #89 |
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Buying Magazines was like a passage to Manhood
In the early 80's in the age of no internet and easily accessible porn, Magazines were the best way to see women naked and I became obsessed with trying to obtain my share at tender young ages (12 - 17). I had my own paper route and typically it was an evening route but Sunday's was always a morning delivery which had me folding and rubber banding papers at 4am and finishing my delivery route, usually by about 6am. These quiet hours of the morning made for untold numerous urges to get porno Mags. I would often go to the local convenience store where the Magazines were kept on display behind the counter and talk myself into trying to purchase one or two. I often had to get the nerve up and talk myself into doing it over and over.
A favorite trick of mine was to wait outside the store until there was no customers in there and then walk in and quickly grab a bottle of coke or something small and make my way to the counter. Typically if someone else came in and got in line behind me, I would often abort and just get my soda and sadly leave. Other times I would wait outside until the coast was clear and go back in and try again, except the 2nd time I would just go straight to the counter. In any event. I had to go through the same ordeal. The trick was getting the words out of my mouth. I don't think it mattered to me if it was men or women at the counter. Both had their advantages and disadvantages. With men, I often felt like they would relate with me and hand it over but I also thought they were a bit more likely to tell me to beat it kid. With women, I felt they would be more inclined to let me have the magazine but the embarrassment was greater. Often times, it didn't matter. My desire to own porno Mags was just something I couldn't overcome. When I finally made it to the counter and the coast was clear I'd start to have the teller ring me up and muster the strength to say something like "Hustler Magazine". I had all kinds of reactions from not flinching, to stop and look at me, to smiles, to angrily say "you're too young, no". But more often than not, the fact I had the nerve to ask, even as young as 12 or 13 or 14. With it being 6am in the morning and no one else around, I typically had like a 70% success rate I'd guess. I found it great when the younger women would smile at me and put it in a bag for me and look at me a certain way. It was thrilling. Others would lay the mag on the counter and take their time ringing me up. Those were sure to make me red faced and more nervous. Regardless, once I had the magazine in hand, I felt a huge sense of accomplishment. I would either go to the beach and sit there and look at my Magazine (with excitement) or I would go home and make my way to the bathroom where I would beat off unmercifully until I came over and over many times during the day. Yes, there was indeed a huge thrill with buying porno mags at a young age. The thrill of buying was part of the thrill of going home and beating off. It was all a rush. Naturally after a few days, the magazine would lose it's excitement power and I would feel the need to return to the store the following weekend and the same process would happen again. I spent many a Sunday morning buying porno mags at the local convenience store. Sometimes it was more exciting then to get something I couldn't easily get then it is for me to sit here and look at porn freely and easily all day if I want on the internet. I miss those days.
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June 21st, 2012, 05:24 AM | #90 |
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How could it not be when 42nd St was in its prime back in the 70's and early 80's. Man I used to spend at least a couple of hours every week browsing the mags and the shows. Sorry to say there has not been any place like that again:-(
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