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Precious things
You know how people often ask couples how they first met. Or when they first kissed. People are fascinated with firsts, I am fascinated by firsts but my firsts can be a little different. One of the firsts I ask, when the opportunity arises, is for people to tell me the first time they saw porn. Of course, I would not bother with asking one of those youngsters sitting over there when they first saw porn. There is no point since the internet has made porn ubiquitous. They saw their first porn when they were too young to comprehend it. Like the cock in the precious things fable they could not appreciate their porn jewels when they first found them. But what makes their tale not worth hearing is they will not have seen a porn jewel either. They will have seen an exceedingly dull form of violence against women probably about asphyxiation and the insertion of bulbous objects bearing a closer connection to childbirth in reverse than erotica. There is nothing erotic about childbirth, you have children you can attest to this truth.
Aesop has been on this earth for many years, his first porn experience was many years before the internet, though more recent than l'origine du monde - not funny, okay. This means we still have two questions to answer with Aesop: was his first porn a jewel, and was he able to appreciate it.
Now let me take you back. I would like you to imagine the young Aesop strutting about like a young cock, erect, head held high, his little red comb wobbling to and fro. Perhaps I am taking this a little too far, but he really was a young cock trying to impress a neighbour who was a year and a half older than him and physically a lot more mature. When puberty is late, when you are a late developer like Aesop was, it is hard. To be fair, when puberty is early, when you are the only one in the boys showers with pubic hair, it is hard too. Not that way, no pun intended. But when the others start catching up it is not so bad being first.
One day when he was at the neighbour's house they were alone. It was the time when youths were left to get on with their youth. It was a hot day so you can imagine the two youngsters lazing about in vests and those skimpy silky running shorts that used to be fashionable back when. Strange but true.
The neighbour took him to the main bedroom. Aesop said he felt uncomfortable being there, he was still of the age when he had a clear sense of right and wrong, he had an idea of adults belonging to one world and children to another and a parent's bedroom definitely belonged to an adult world. The neighbour took a chair to the wardrobe and pulled out a magazine from under the winter blankets. It was the days before duvets. He stuffed the magazine under his vest and the boys slipped out of the house and to their garden den. Everyone had a den in those days, even if their den was just a cramped clear space behind a bush. It is all that is needed for a den.
You have guessed it by now, it was a porn mag. A photo story with little black and white photos on normal paper, not the glossy magazine paper. The photos showed the intimate relations of a couple in explicit detail, as explicit, that is, as a five centimetre block can be. It had speech bubbles and short texts between the photos. Every few pages was a larger, half page image. They didn't read the story but it was easy enough to follow, he was not even sure the story had been in English. The only other time he found similarly fabulous stories was many years later when he was living in France.
Which leaves us just with the final question, was our young Aesop able to appreciate this porn jewel or was it just a disturbing stone when he was seeking tasty barley. Well, the answer is the latter. While Aesop pretended for his neighbour that he thought the porn was brilliant, actually he was repulsed by the massive phalluses with knobbly veins, and the hairy vulvas that reminded him of his mother. He assured me, when he told me the tale, that he is now rather fond of the hairy vulva, preferring it to the smooth folds proliferating porn now. And that he is happy with large cocks, either in porn or life. But at the end of that venture he took the approach of pretending it never happened. He never said a word of it to his neighbour again, and nor did his neighbour mention it to him, that is, once the neighbour had had a wank in the den while Aesop watched. A porn experience both on paper and in demonstration. Aesop intoned the demonstration was a little intimidating. He was well over a year behind his neighbour in physical development, so when the neighbour slipped his hairy bollocks and large, semi-erect circumcised penis out of the side of those silky jogging shorts he had a slight panic. His neighbour’s penis looked like the cocks in the mag. He kept his small hairless uncut little worm of a penis in his shorts while his neighbour groaned and shot spurts of jizz on the ground and on his leg. He scraped it off his leg with a finger and offered it to Aesop with a laugh before wiping it on his shorts.
He didn't think of it as s porn experience though he did admit on another occasion to it slipping into his fantasies. In the fantasy he would sometimes have a big squirting cock spraying his neighbour and himself, or sometimes have his little cock but be happy to whip it out nonetheless.
What I like about this story is it gives us a chance to think about what exactly is our own porn jewel. If it is something as delectable as a kernel of barley for a hungry cock or if it is just a useless hard rock we hang on to, perhaps because we are told we should like it. If we are being choosy, how much of pornography would we really find erotic?
