X is for X-rated.
Who hasn’t had experience with something X-rated at some point in their life.
I get people looking for it on my blog. I wrote a post last summer called “I like big butts and I cannot lie, real not fake” that generated more hits daily than any other posts. Apparently there are a lot of people out there looking for big butts.
When I was a teen I ventured once into the local porn theater, Cinema Art in Troy, New York, with a boyfriend. Tuesdays were couples night. Two for $5. Great deal! I was mesmerized by all that fornicating on the big screen. I didn’t understand why people kept getting up and leaving and coming back though. It baffled me.
This theater was originally built in 1917. Here it is advertising talking pictures with sounds in 1928. Who could have believed what kind of sounds would be on the screen years later? It closed in 2006. The theater was raided and padlocked—several customers and the manager were arrested and sadly the grand marquis was torn off. Officials said it “had become a seedy gathering spot for adults who engaged in public sex acts.” Here are the original porn features from the early 70s.
Then there was the time my parents and I vacationed across Europe when I was a kid. We found our hotel in Madrid to be in the XXX section. I recall the fancy montauk-monster.com/pharmacy/xenical looking women, flashing neon, and funny pictures. I dropped my doll out of the hotel window by accident once. My dad was propositioned three times before he got back to our room after rescuing my toy.
I went in there once with a girlfriend. I made her park in the back. They had just re-done the entire building and it really looks nice. Classy. Not like a cheesy sex shop.
Oh, but what things I saw in there I had no idea existed. I wondered how some things could be used but didn’t dare ask for a demonstration. Things that buzzed and twinkled and throbbed and squeaked. And what if you had to make a quick getaway? How would you get untangled that fast and pack up and go with all your equipment?
I’m glad I didn’t venture in on the day the male protestors picketed out front. They carried signs that read, “Real men don’t use porn.”
I don’t know if that’s true or not but whenever my husband is winning a debate and I can’t think of a good retort I just tell him “Well, real men don’t use porn, you know!”