Ten More Stories About the First Time You Saw Porn

In which the young you learns to have a better hiding space than "My Documents."

by Nerve Readers

You never forget your first experience with porn. A wrinkled magazine half-buried in the recycling, or an errant folder on the desktop, and your world is never the same. Here are tenNerve readers' formative porn experiences.

 

I used to tag along when my friend Christine went to babysit her cousin. This kid’s parents were super-patriotic, intensely religious Revolutionary War buffs. The mom was dowdy, with giant brown-tinted glasses, and the dad was brawny and chubby with a handlebar mustache — think Meathead from All In The Family. Their apartment was full of crosses and dusty Americana — tattered license plates from every state and American flags of every kind.

After Christine got the kid to nap one afternoon, we turned on the TV, thinking we’d finish the movie we rented yesterday. The tape flickered on and, instead of Sixteen Candles, we saw a couple dressed in Revolutionary War-era garb going at it under a cherry tree. The guy wore a tri-cornered hat and stockings, and his paramour wore ruffled petticoats bunched up under her shockingly large-aureola'd breasts. It ended up being only one part of a series of tame, hyper-American porn featuring the Founding Fathers and their wives, or, in Jefferson’s case, his slave. I still remember Washington crying, “Martha, feel my member!”

— Tina

 

I was ten years old and at a local corner store buying candy with my friend, and somehow, I ended up in front of a row of pornos in the magazine aisle. My friend and I spent fifteen minutes staring at a picture of a very attractive and very naked woman doing some sort of complex gymnastic pose. In retrospect, I realize now that as far as porn goes, this was incredibly tame — arty, even — but at the time it was a veritable Cirque de Soleil of sexual wonderment. I remember thinking, "If this is what sex involves, I better start stretching now."

It was this fear that caused me to slip the magazine into my coat, pay for my candy, and sprint home like Indy being chased by that boulder in Raiders of the Lost Ark. I spent the next three hours looking at vaginas and eating candy. It was a good afternoon.

My friend who was with me told my other friends at school about what I did, and I ended up becoming pretty famous. Kids offered lunch treats and begged to loan me their new video games in order to get some time with the magazine, by then comfortably resting under a pile of clothes in my room.

Nine years later, I think I still have that magazine.

— Matt

 

I was at the home of a friend of my mom's, when the two of them went to run some errands and asked me to house-sit for a minute. I had no problem with this, because I knew her son (who was in jail at the time) had a massive porn collection.

The nanosecond they were gone, I snuck into his room and grabbed the first VHS I saw, not even paying any attention to the title. I popped it in, and saw a naked man getting orally pleased by a woman. One of the major reasons I wanted to watch porn, other then to masturbate, was to compare my own penis to others. I saw what the guy was packing and thought to myself, "Well, that's not too bad. He's about my size."

Then the scene cut to him with an actual erection.

My ego took a hit that wouldn't begin to heal until years later when I lost my virginity and a small yelp from my partner convinced me that I was a decent size. But it took some time to get over the years I spent ashamed of my perceived inadequacies in the face of that unnamed man.

— Glenn

 

My suitemate and I were cleaning out the new place before we moved in. She went into the closet and, in the process of dusting off a high shelf, realized there was a videotape there. It was an unmarked VHS tape, but it was broken, so we left it alone for a week. A week later, we all got stoned and decided to fix it. We opened it, fixed the tape, rewrapped it, and stuck it in the VCR.

The title popped up: Old Enough For Anal. We assumed at this point that the title must be referring to the busty blonde walking across the screen in lacy children's socks and Mary Janes. All well and good, we thought, but we were suddenly horrified when her geriatric counterpart sauntered onto the screen as fast as his aged limbs would allow. Having never really seen porn, we were startled enough by the set-up, without the presence of the elderly. By the time he started in on the titular act (on a pool table), we were all screaming. We ended up putting the video back up on the shelf and pretending that we never found it. It's still there, as far as I know.

— Jamie

 

In 1970, I was doing a post-doctoral fellowship at the University of Lund in Sweden. My daughter was four at the time, and was rapidly picking up Swedish from her classmates. We frequently went to see American movies, which provided some unintentional lessons about Swedish morals: one day, while buying tickets to a ‘40s-era Tarzan film, I was admonished by the teenage box-office clerk for exposing a young child to such a violent film. The Swedes actually censored the most violent parts of these film, like scenes of people being struck by spears or arrows.

A few weeks later, I took my daughter to see Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. While I was occupied at the ticket window, my daughter wandered across the entrance to look at the stills for the theater's other offerings. They included scenes from the theater's adult offerings: a film featuring an orgy, and another starring a woman we called “the Pig Lady” since she had her way with a variety of barnyard denizens. My daughter pulled me over by my coat sleeve and asked, “What are they doing?” I rose to the occasion and simply answered, “Making love.” That satisfied her, and there appeared to be no harm done.

I might add that she grew up admirably well-adjusted. She graduated with honors from an Ivy League university, became an IT professional, and has been married for over two decades to a wonderful man. However, she did write her undergraduate anthropology thesis on “Sex as a Woman’s Commodity,” so perhaps that first exposure to porn made an impression after all.

— Silenus

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