Here continues the personal sexual history of one of the web’s leading masturbators, Porn O’Graphicus. He posted this originally in the affiliated masturbator group OnaniaSupport, but I think his excellent story deserves wider exposure.
See also Part 3
When I last left you all in Part 3, just after entering the second half of my 13th year on this planet, I had just experienced my first two ejaculations while masturbating. As we enter this fourth “chapter” of my story and how I became a dedicated masturbator and user/collector of pornography, I am going to cover the rest of being 13 up through the end of my 15th year when getting my driver’s license opened up new and unexpected avenues for getting to porn and masturbating. But, at this time, I’m still stuck in a relatively small area that I could only cover by bicycle and living in a home where the signals about any sexual matter got even more crazily mixed and harshly confusing.
When I started planning out this multi-part epic and making a rough outline of notes in a text file for later use — putting things in as the full memories flooded back to me — I realized that this is a chapter where my recollections are not as crystal clear as they were for the first three installments. Because of that, this Part 4 will end up being more of a series of vignettes than the running narrative you have all read previously.
There are certainly quite a few things that I remember vividly from this 13-through-15 period. But, for whatever reason, I can’t quite nail down their exact chronological order. While I am just guessing, my theory is that there was just so much going on during this 2 1/2 years that it was much different than all the years that preceded them where my masturbatorial and pornographical goals were much more simple and achieving them was a much more drawn out process.
Whatever the reason(s), I hope that you all will still enjoy this slightly different format for Part 4.
THE BOXES
As you will recall from Part 3, I finally found my father’s full stash of Playboys and a smattering of other soft-core magazines. There were three large cardboard boxes filled with them, and then a fourth box that was partially porn and the rest was nothing but women’s magazines. All of the issues that I still strongly remembered from my first exposure to Playboy were there, and it was so great to be able to see them again and read them in a more educated light — plus, get the full pleasure out of them while masturbating to ejaculation. 
My father’s collection was by no means complete, but I didn’t care. I also took a quick liking to the other titles that he had put in there while noticing their differences. Penthouse was certainly different from Playboy as were his few issues of Oui and a few other popular titles of the time. While I certainly liked being able to get back to those pre-1971 Playboys, I quickly found that I preferred to ejaculate while looking at something more recent where I could see the woman’s pubic hair.
I still had to take great care in getting to these magazines. Due to that accursed wooden floor I mentioned in Part 3, I would often hear shouts of, “What in the hell are you doing up there,” even when I was just walking to my closet to change my clothes or something. But, amazingly in retrospect, I was never busted getting into those boxes all the way through when I was 17 and left to go to college.
MY SEMEN
As I mentioned in Part 3, my first two ejaculations were extremely white and thick. After that, my ejaculations became more normal for a boy of that age. I could now clearly see the white strands floating around in the more clear liquid as opposed to my first two cums where it was just all whiteness.
In addition to the more normal look, I was now shooting off like a rocket. Somewhere between two weeks to a month or so after becoming an ejaculating masturbator, I realized what a problem this was for me. There was no way in hell that I could let my mother see any of my cum stains or there would have been hell to pay. Of course, as a young boy, I was cumming in large volumes that were not always easily guided onto my stomach for an easy wash-off (plus the fact that going to my bathroom meant being heard walking across that goddamn wooden floor).
For my situation, the solution was two-fold. For those times when I knew that I could get away with it, I could masturbate with total freedom some mornings, cum all over myself, and then immediately shower afterward. But, for the other times, my only choice was to use something disposable and discreet. Because I suffered greatly from allergies, I kept a large amount of Kleenex in my room at all times. That was great cover because I could use a lot of Kleenex without it attracting attention (my allergies were very bad at this time). I became very adept at making a kind of cone out of several tissues so that my semen would mostly be contained. I could then safely stash them at night then flush them away in the morning. Of course, I wasn’t always perfect thanks to the speed and volume of a young man’s ejaculations. But, again, I was able to keep from getting busted over my cum rags for the rest of the time that I lived with my parents.
As seems to be the case with all new ejaculators, I was fascinated with the stuff that was coming out of me while giving me such great pleasure. I loved looking at it and watching it spurt out of me (at least on those rare times when I could shoot freely instead of having to restrain my wad in Kleenex). Like most boys at this age, I did occasionally taste small blobs of my semen. I wasn’t all that big on the flavor, but I had an odd attraction to the smell. That attraction would come back in pleasant ways later, but that’s something for a future chapter.
THE SACRAMENTO PUBLIC LIBRARIES
Even though I had spent so much time working on masturbation and learning about all sexual matters where I could, there were still plenty of gaps in my mind. One day, my mother and I were in one of the three different branches of the Sacramento Public Library that we frequented. The great thing about libraries is the way that everything is organized into topics. And, after finally ejaculating, anything sexual was jumping right out at me. While walking down one aisle, I noticed a whole section on sex and other related topics. I kind of wondered to myself if I could get away at looking at these without getting in trouble with the librarians. Of course, I was not about to test this out with my mother present, but I could certainly get back there on my bicycle!
So, I started making trips to my closest branches. At first, most of what I found was very technical and extremely boring…certainly not the combination of learning and masturbational material I was hoping for. But, as we all know, people are returning stuff all of the time, so I eventually found some things that would probably be unthinkable to find on library shelves in the US today.
In one branch was that great classic, The Joy of Sex. And, eventually, I learned about some of the more literary classics such as Lady Chatterley’s Lover and was able to check them out and take them home with no problems — well, other than sneaking them into the house. This particular branch also had a copy of something called the Whole Earth Catalog, which will lead to a story in Part 5 that…well, you’ll just have to wait. 
In a small branch north of my home, I was able to find some erotic photography books. These were not terribly explicit. But, at this age, anything stimulated a good hard-on. And, I got a real inner buzz from being the age I was at and still be able to check out such “naughty” material.
One of the truly mind-blowing finds came at the really big branch south of my home. In addition to some great books on teen sexuality, they actually had two or three photo books from nudist camps! Yes, I shit you not — a public library in the relatively conservative northern part of Sacramento had nudist camp books!
Now, of course, these nudist camp books were not intended to be sexual in nature. But, I was still well below 16, and seeing any naked people was going to do the job for me.
I want to be very careful here so that nobody gets the wrong impression. Again, keep fully in mind that I’m 13-14-15 at this point and desperate for anything I can get my hands on that I can either learn from or masturbate over. At least at the time, these books must have been totally legal since they were put in the library. But, they did indeed have pictures of entire families. And, to fully tell my story, I must be honest — I did indeed find it interesting as well as arousing to see the girls around my age and think about how the ones in my school might look similar.
I have to admit that I eventually stole some of these books from the library. I justified this in my mind because I had no way to buy any of them. I did not get any of the nudist books because somebody else stole them before I did…damn bastard! Well, for obvious reasons, that was probably for the best so that I didn’t get totally hung up on something that might get me into big trouble later. But, as you will see in the next section, stealing porn also occurred in other places.
LONG’S DRUGS, PLAYBOY, AND THE BIG HEISTS
To give some background on this part of the story…at least in California, this was still a time when Playboy (and occasionally a few other adult titles) were sold pretty much right out in the open at supermarket checkout lines and other easily viewed and reached places. This was the end of a golden age before President Ronald Reagan paid back his fundamentalist Christian supporters by having his asinine Attorney General, Ed Meese, waste our taxpayers’ dollars by doing a huge anti-pornography campaign.
For those not familiar with Long’s Drugs, it is a chain of big pharmacy stores in the US like Rite-Aid. Lke any big drug store, they sold a whole lot of stuff besides pharmaceuticals and other medical items. This included two big magazine racks.
Impressed with my own success at being able to check out sex-related books at the local libraries, I got brave one day. As always, I tried to pass it off by buying a bunch of other stuff. But, the cashier saw the Playboy that I had picked up and said that she couldn’t sell that to me because I was too young. I told her that my father had asked me to get it for him, but she said that she just couldn’t do it.
Well, I tried it the nice, legal way. Now, I was going to have to go to the dark side. >:-)
I didn’t think about this too much after that. However, one day, I was in that same Long’s buying a new bottle of that vitamin E hand cream that I used for lubricating my penis when I overheard a hushed conversation. On the other side of the aisle with the hand cream was a row of small toys. As I listened in, I could hear that there were two kids just a bit younger than me planning to shoplift some model cars. In this day well before electronic anti-theft measures, it was just a matter of planning a proper exit route and getting away as quickly as possible. As I looked over the aisle, I could see these boys checking to make sure the coast was clear, opening a “gate” in the railing that served as a place to put shopping carts as well as separate the customers coming in from those going out, and then hopping on their bikes that were perfectly positioned to get on right away and speed off before anyone who might see them could grab their collars and haul them back into the store.
What caught my eye most of all was where they made their exit towards the door. It was right next to the magazine rack — a magazine rack that had Playboy and some other “naughty” magazines for sale on it.
Boy, did I suddenly turn into a real pro. I cased the store out at least four times before making my first attempt. I sure as hell didn’t want to get caught because the only thing worse for me at home than being discovered masturbating would have been to be found a thief. Once I was sure that I could get away, my main fear was more that my bike would get stolen because I had to leave it unlocked in order to make a quick getaway.
So, on this first “heist,” as I had done while casing the joint, I spent awhile browsing the rack…slowly looking at the latest Mad or Sports Illustrated — all the while watching the foot traffic on the sidewalk outside. There were no doors down the way where anybody would pop out unexpectedly, so it was just a matter of making sure nobody was near.
I was tingling with excitement. I also had a raging hard-on thinking about getting a “modern” Playboy into my hands. I finally made my move…grabbed the July 1980 issue of Playboy, discreetly held it against my body, whipped through the gap in the railing, swiftly exited through the electronic door, hopped on my bike, and pedaled like there was no tomorrow. When I crossed the boulevard into my neighborhood, I knew that I was home free.
I did have one concern. A week or so after stealing this first Playboy, my mother made me go with her to shop at this Long’s. I was scared shitless that somebody had seen me and would bust me in front of my mother. I tried the whole time to keep my head down and be unnoticed. But, nothing happened. So, I was encouraged to do it again.
Over the next two or so years, I was able to get almost every issue of Playboy. On occasion, I would also be able to get some other magazines such as Penthouse or Gallery. But, at this point in my life, I was still mainly a Playboy fan, so that was always my main target.
In some ways, I now feel bad about stealing all of those magazines. But, the devil sitting on my left shoulder told me that Long’s didn’t give me any choice.
GETTING A GRIP
For those of you who read Part 3, you will recall that I started off my time as an ejaculating masturbator by using a method of penis stroking that I call “The Rope Climb.” Now that I was an extremely frequent masturbator, that method was starting to hurt. And, as almost all boys of that age will do, they will get fearful that they have done something to injure themselves, but also never say anything about it for fear of embarrassment or punishment.
“The Rope Climb” was just putting too much pull and pressure on my dickhole. It was uncomfortable to say the least and would sometimes hurt hours after my last session. So, I took my first-ever extended break from masturbating (a week or so, I think). But, I put that time to good use by doing some reading at the library and some critical thinking.
In addition to trying to rid my mind of all the anti-sex, anti-masturbation bullshit that gets laid on young adults (as well as the occasional religious garbage that got heaped my way), I was consciously trying to figure out how to masturbate without this very unpleasant side effect.
By this time, my penis had grown to somewhere around five inches (approximately 13 cm for all you non-Americans out there). And, this now gave me the ability to engage my plan after my thinking sessions.
Of course, my plan was to have sex. I was already trying not to cum too fast because I had read about that problem for young men (although I was still too young and excitable to really make any progress yet — 15 minutes was big-time “edging” for me in those early months). Because of how I was masturbating my penis, I was afraid that sex was going to hurt and that I was going to be unsuccessful at it because of that.
So, my plan was two fold. First, I put myself under the “no pain, no gain” philosophy. My theory was that, if I kept “practicing,” the pain would go away just as if you were lifting weights for the first time and felt really sore until you started doing it regularly.
The second thing that I decided was that I needed to simulate putting my penis inside a vagina as much as possible. So, instead of simply rubbing always down on my cock as I had been doing with the two-handed “rope climb,” the helpful library books were telling me that I needed to be going back and forth.
While I figured out the traditional handgrip at this point, I didn’t quite start off using it in the “normal” manner. At first, I held my hand still and pumped in and out of it. I had to lie on my side to do this, and it was not totally comfortable, didn’t make looking at porn as easy, and made it very difficult to control my powerful and voluminous young boy ejaculations.
However, over time, I discovered that it was much easier and pleasant to let the hand do the work instead of my pelvis. And, to this very day, with some occasional exceptions for variety and experimentation, I lie on my back and use the good ol’ traditional handgrip, moving up and down my cock over and over again until I cover my hand with semen.
OOPS!
My mother was fussy about my clothing. I suppose this came from her own childhood where her family was very poor and they didn’t always have nice things to wear. I found it irritating because I was developing into a casual rock & roller dude who preferred jeans and a t-shirt over anything more fancy.
But, she would fuss even over some fancy blue jeans that she had bought for me and would insist on altering them to fit me “properly.” This did not work well one day when she insisted one day after school that I try on a certain pair of pants so that she could measure me in them and then take them to her sewing room to be altered.
Unfortunately for me, my final period of school that day was my physical education class. We had co-ed PE in my schools, and we had done swimming that day. After using every fiber of my being to not get a stiffie while seeing all this enticing young girl flesh in tight bathing suits for a whole hour, I had a raging hard-on as soon as I left the locker room and started walking home.
I tried everything that I could to get out of being a mannequin for my mom at this particular time, but to no avail. I tried to put my pecker straight up in my pants so that it would not show an obvious bulge and also be out of the way of her measuring hands. But, as we all know, our penises often have a mind of their own and go where they want. And, sure enough, when my mother went to measure my inseam, her hand hit my stiff penis.
Believe me, this is not what I wanted, and I thought for sure that I was going to be in big-ass trouble. I was about to croak.
But, the measuring session ended very quickly and I was finally free for a quick jerk off. To this day, I’m not sure if she realized what she touched or not. I thought for sure that she would say something at supper that night, but it never happened. I’m glad that it didn’t. I would have been so embarrassed and despondent that I probably would have puked.
A LESSON LEARNED
As I think that of you can identify with, those early years of masturbation with ejaculation bring a lot of odd thoughts to one’s head. The hormones are raging so much in your body that even the most unlikely of things get you curious and/or horny.
One of mine led to a very important lesson. For whatever reason, I wanted to see myself one more time without my pubic hair. Still not having much facial hair, I was almost totally unfamiliar with shaving. I started to give it a try with just a little bit of shaving cream and one of my father’s razors. Even starting carefully at the top of my bush, I quickly realized that this was not for me, especially for running a sharp blade over my scrotum! But, I still wanted to do this.
Then, the misguided light bulb went off in my head. I was finishing some homework in the den while, in the living room right next to it, my mother was watching a soap opera. During a commercial break, a commercial came on for Nair hair remover.
And, yes, I realize that some of you are laughing already.
So, a day or two later, I biked over to the good ol’ Long’s Drugs and got me a can of Nair. That weekend, my parents went out shopping and left me home. So, this was the perfect opportunity to use the Nair. And, it was indeed perfect, but not for the reasons I had intended.
As with the shaving, I first tried just a small bit right on the top of my bush. The hair came right off with no problems. So, thinking I was in the clear, I put a big, giant blob of Nair in my hand and just slapped it over my entire genital area.
In mere seconds, I felt like somebody had dipped my nuts in lighter fluid and set them on fire. I blurted out every expletive in the book as I made a beeline for the shower and turned the cold water on full blast. It took forever to put that “fire” out, and it still felt like it was smoldering for hours afterward. That was one hell of a price to pay to see my bald pubes again. But, as with anything bad, it led to a good lesson to always read the ingredients of anything that I would ever conceive of putting on my nuts and to especially make sure that it does not contain alcohol.
Man, just writing about that all these years later makes my balls try to retreat up into my throat.
I’LL NEVER GET TO HAVE SEX
Yes, a young teenage boy’s worst nightmare…that he will die before he ever gets to have sex.
Around my 14th birthday, I developed a couple of cysts on my body — one on my chest and one above my left eye. Both my parents and I feared that they might be cancerous. And, while masturbating every night waiting for the tests to come back, I would try to imagine how I would get some pretty nurse to have sex with me before I died.
Obviously, I am still very much alive. The cysts were benign. But, the week or so after the surgery I had to remove them sure sucked because I was either too out of it or too weak to whack off. And, it extra sucked because I couldn’t ride my new bike or go swimming for the entire summer, and extra double bummer because my family’s vacation was spent going up the northern California coast.
But, water leads me to a favorite story from these years…
POCKET POOL
The following year, my parents rented a condominium in the Monterey/Carmel area of the central California coast. I remember this time particularly as one when I was masturbating and ejaculating an average of seven times a day.
As will happen on this area of the Pacific Coast, it got kind of cloudy and cool. It was also a weekday, so there was hardly any crowd around. It was a bit too rough to go swimming in the ocean, but the condo complex had a slightly heated pool.
Up to this time, I had never masturbated anywhere except in a bedroom or in the bath/shower. I remember this all very clearly…the dark gray, totally cloudy sky…the cool breeze…the slightly warm water of the small pool…the almost absolute quiet with only the hushed surf in the background and the occasional squawk of a seagull.
I first got aroused when I swam close to the jet of water coming into the pool after its trip through the filtration system. It ran across my penis and immediately arose my curiosity as well as my cock.
I got up close to this surge of water and positioned myself just right for it to flow right over my penis. Boy, did that feel good! Then, my mind started scheming. I looked around and could see no people anywhere or any activity in any of the nearby buildings. So, I decided to try masturbating in the pool.
I pretty much did this with my hand inside my swimming trunks. I wanted to be able to cover up as quickly as possible in case anybody came out to the pool. But, nobody ever did.
I kept stroking and stroking, kind of sitting in the shallow end of the pool but doing all of my penis-touching underwater. The whole time I was just enjoying the look, sound, and smell of this wonderful place.
I was getting really worked up and knew that I could cum at any time. After making one last check for any other people, I made myself come to a glorious climax. I watched carefully as I stroked myself to ejaculation, and then let off six big, slow-motion jets of semen under the water. I was in awe of watching myself bring forth my sperm like this, and it is still one of my top five masturbation sessions of all time. It was amazing to see my cum float around in long blobs in the pool, and I swam around them for a while until I got worried.
I started to fear that somebody would get in the pool and get my semen on them and that somehow they would figure out that I did it and would get in big-time trouble. So, I ended up herding my semen blobs into the intake of the filter. That took awhile and has to make this one of the weirdest things I have ever done related to masturbation; ironic since the first part of it all was also such a great memory. And, in the final “chapter” of this saga, I will tell you all how I, in a small way, relived this great masturbation memory.
THE EDGE OF NIGHT
As I have already mentioned, one of my masturbation “goals” was to use playing with myself as practice for when I finally talked some girl into having sex with me. Thanks to the sex-related books of the Sacramento Public Libraries, I had already decided that I didn’t want to be one of those thoughtless men who just busted a quick nut without fully satisfying his female partner. I wanted to be good at having sex because I felt that it would be a main key into having it more often…smart kid, huh?
But, again, I’m a young teen at this time who could bust a nut in 45 seconds if he tried…and he often did. So, I again did some serious thinking and came up with a plan.
At night when I had time to really masturbate at my leisure, I decided to make myself cum really fast, and then begin masturbating again almost immediately to see if I could make the second session measurably longer. The books I was reading said that this should be the case. But, I was still at a point in my young life where orgasms would show up almost whenever they damn well felt like it.
I remember this one night because I had gone to the boxes to fetch some of my father’s magazines and I came up with a Penthouse that had a beautiful redhead in it. I found that exciting because it seemed like she was the only nude redhead that he had in any of his magazines other than a few in Playboy during their pre-pubic era.
I had already ejaculated very quickly this night to that same lady who I had been looking at during my very first ejaculation. But now I was fixated on this redhead, going back and forth through the photos in her layout, thinking of what it would be like to make love to her.
This night marked the first time that I was able to hold back an orgasm. I would swear that the sperm was already at the very tip of my penis as it almost burned as I tried to hold back. But, hold back I did. Then, I was able to do it again. I wasn’t really keeping track of the time, but I was proud of this breakthrough (but again having one of those weird, uneducated thoughts that I might have “broken” my plumbing and would never again ejaculate).
The point finally came when I could hold back no longer and my balls let forth a wave of pleasure that I could not suppress,. The usual blasts of creamy young semen then came flowing forth from my penis. As I wiped up the usual unruly cum blobs that refused to go into my wad of Kleenex, I looked at my alarm clock and became filled with pride and a feeling of accomplishment. I had been masturbating for exactly one whole hour before spurting my fluid. With a little more practice and preparation, I knew that I was on the road to making sure that my first round of sexual intercourse was going to be as good for the lucky lady as it would be for me.
BAD & STUPID
As with each of the “chapters” of my story, not everything is all peachy keen. Let me cover two of those things before I wrap up with one more good one.
It was in this era of my life where my mother started to show some signs of slight mental illness. And, with me being an emotional kid, this rubbed off on me. In the summer before this chapter ends, I basically spent the whole three months never leaving the house. While we might joke about that now and think that it would be great to have three months to do nothing but masturbate, I think that, upon serious reflection, such a thing is not right for a young teen.
I can’t fully explain why this happened. I think that some of it had to do with getting so many lectures the previous year about staying away from girls and then, at the end of the year, getting forced into going to a junior high school dance that I didn’t want any part of (I was a rocker dude who wanted to hang out with rocker chicks, and I sure didn’t want to spend all evening hanging out with the icky disco crowd). Other factors included having a subconscious need to be near my mother while she was in a weird state as well as this being a time when I was in transition between sets of friends as I started to mature and most of my longest-held buddies started doing the unthinkable…going to church!
And, this was a time when I did one of the stupidest things I have ever done related to masturbation, and it also started off that summer with me being forced to stay home due to being grounded. As most of you know, all Playboys come with one or two post cards in them that you can fill out in order to subscribe. Well, I gave it a shot thinking that I could always get to the mail before my parents did. Worse yet, as an evil joke, I also filled out a card for one of our neighbors down the street…an extremely devout Christian family.
Well, everybody involved shit a brick. I decided to try to lie my way out of it and claim no knowledge of the incident. But, my parents contacted Playboy’s subscription center and they actually mailed back copies of the cards I had filled out and mailed in. With my obvious handwriting on them, the jig was up.
That was the only time that I ever got caught for one of my stupid moves in my pursuit of pornography and masturbation. There would be one more such “discovery,” but it was along different lines and does not come about until we get to Part 5.
MIDNIGHT MOVIES
I close today with one more “good” story. But, I first have to bore you all with a little background.
Sacramento was one of the last major cities to allow cable television to be installed. This is a very long story of a then very shortsighted city government. For a while, it ended up being a good thing for the city as they at one time had one of the best and most responsive cable systems anywhere. I could spend a lot of time on that, but you’ve all suffered enough if you’ve come this far.
As you can imagine, having no cable was very frustrating to everybody. It was the early 1980’s, and people young and old were hearing about ESPN, MTV, CNN, and all of this other great programming. Yet, while most of the country had the opportunity to see these channels, Sacramento still lived in a totally “rabbit ears” world…until…
A bright entrepreneur in the area saw a need and found how to somewhat fill it. Since the city would not allow digging for cable, he would go another route. He found a way to broadcast one cable channel, Home Box Office (HBO) over a microwave frequency. He built the tower, started the service, and the subscriptions flowed in.
At one’s home, there would be an antenna that looked like the business end of a barbecue grill put up on the roof. A line would be run down to the TV set, and there was a small box with a button on it. Push the button in, and you could get HBO coming in on channel 4. Pop the button back out, and things went back to the normal over-the-air stations (leaving the button in would cause too much interference on our channels 3 and 6).
As I had mentioned before, I had a small black and white TV in my bedroom. I was certainly aware that HBO showed movies with nudity in them (although this was well before current programs like Real Sex). However, with that channel hooked up only in the living room, there was never any way I could enjoy “good” movies properly — in other words, while masturbating.
One night, my parents were watching something on HBO that I wasn’t interested in, so I was upstairs watching regular TV. Since my TV was so old, it had one of the dials that you actually had to turn yourself to change channels. As I went to change from channel 3 over to something else, I noticed that something was coming in on channel 4. Being a bit informed about the nature of broadcasting waves, I thought that maybe the conditions were right for channel 4 out of San Francisco to be coming in that night. So, I went back to 4 to check it out. Although it was somewhat fuzzy, I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was an ID for HBO!
I fiddled around with some of the tuning dials I had on the TV as well as the rabbit ears antenna and got it to come in almost totally clear. Yes, it was in black and white, but it was in my room where I could do what I wanted while watching it.
So, if I spotted a time when something with some nudity would be on, I would try to discreetly turn the HBO box on as my parents were going to bed. Occasionally, they would see that it was still on and hose me out of a night of “dirty” TV. But, something was better than nothing.
After a couple of years, there was some kind of dispute between HBO and the man running the microwave service. And, with cable TV for Sacramento still years away, this entrepreneur was not about to give up. So, he found another station to replace HBO.
Unfortunately, I cannot remember the name of this station which I believe went out of business long ago. It might have been something like “MovieVision,” but I’m not sure.
This brings us to a very big moment in my pornography-seeking career. Up to this point, the raunchiest thing I had ever seen was Penthouse.
This new channel seemed to show the same movies that HBO did…with one big exception. Late at night, they showed true, uncensored hardcore pornography films with the big stars of the day like Seka, Juliet “Aunt Peg” Anderson, Sharon Mitchell, etc.
Well, needless to say, I was in seventh heaven! For the very first time, I was able to see people having sex. It wasn’t like R-rated movies where you don’t see the true action. I was seeing penises entering vaginas, oral sex, anal sex, hand jobs, and mutual masturbation. Most gloriously of all, I saw my first cumshot…the first time I had ever seen another man ejaculate.
When I heard that this new channel was showing “adult” movies, I didn’t really believe that they would be as explicit as they turned out to be. What a glorious surprise! The first night that I was able to keep the box on and watch the movies in my room, I was transfixed. The very first scene I saw was with “Aunt Peg.” When the male star shot his wad on her body, I lost it immediately and came all over myself and my bed. They showed movie after movie that night and I must have ejaculated at least three more times before I couldn’t squirt one more drop.
As time went on, I believe that this channel began getting some pressure from certain no-fun-allowed groups because the amount and frequency of the hardcore movies decreased over time. But, I enjoyed them when I could hit the right combination of them being on and my parents not noticing that I had turned the box back on.
But, I’m afraid that I have to end today’s “chapter” with one sad and bizarre note. A certain group of do-gooders in Sacramento was in radical opposition to this channel that showed such explicit movies. One of the leaders of this group was an insurance agent who’s office was not far from my home. If I remember the story correctly, one night, this insurance agent and one of his sons went out to the tower site, taped explosives to the support beams, and set off a blast that brought the tower down. He went to jail, but he also ultimately got his wish. By the time the whole situation got resolved and the proper people went to jail, cable was finally on its way to Sacramento. With hundreds of channels finally on the horizon, there was no call for the restoration of the microwave service. Thus, with that act of one or two ass-wipes who wanted us all to suppress our sexual desires, the ability to get hardcore porn in your home without having to go buy something in an adult bookstore ended in Sacramento.
There would be some soft-core stuff later on cable in Sacramento, but that story is many years and a few chapters down the road.
Part 5 will follow in a couple of weeks
See also the primary source for this article on the author’s blog with photos of his Masturbation Muses
