Giant Wooden Dildo Anyone?

A friend of mine (female), recently received a subscription to Playgirl magazine as a Christmas present. After a rather detailed description of its contents by her and another friend of mine, I have decided that perhaps it is not a magazine I would be all that interested in obtaining a subscription to myself. What is reminds me of, though, is my first encounter with gay pornography (well, actually, pornography of any kind) as a child of about 12.

I was innocently playing baseball with my father, brother, and 4 or 5 of the neighbor children at the high school down the street from our home one sunny weekend afternoon. I was in the catcher position, which I was not all that good at as I became distracted easily and had to chase down 4 out of 5 of the balls that passed by the batters bat unhit. On one such baseball rescue mission, I had to run around a set of bleachers that was behind our playing area, where I caught a glimpse of a few magazine pages. Curious, I took a closer look. Before being called back to the game and berated for my turtle pace, I was able to discern that there was in fact a naked man on at least one of its pages.

I was immediately intrigued. I began to miss the ball on purpose so as to have to return to the magazine's place in the grass and investigate further. My father began to get suspicious, however, and I was forced to hold off on my sleuthing until later. I was switched out as catcher later in the game, and when one of the balls flew by the new man for him to retrieve, I saw that he caught a glimpse of it, too. My interest was piqued, but I held off my excitement and extreme curiosity until the game was over.

It was not that I did not know what pornography was. I had heard of Playboy. I had heard of boys finding their father's stashes and flipping through the pages with utter wonder and excitement. I knew such things existed, I just didn't know they had such things with naked men in them.

After we had all walked home with my father, the four oldest boys took refuge in the backyard to discuss what we had seen. Quickly, we decided to return to the scene and find out exactly what was there. Boy, was it worth it. I feigned disgust, following the lead of the other boys as we flipped through page after page of naked men, some having sex with each other, others just sitting there with erections in all their glory. The one I remember most vividly was a picture of a man in a carpenter's workshop with work clothes on. He had just created a giant dildo out of wood and was holding it up for inspection and to awe at its grandeur. It was the size of the entire man himself. I had never seen anything like it.

Like the children we were, we ripped the glossy pages out of their binding and flung them across the field like a big confetti party, an exposed chest here, the seductive eyes of an over-enthusiastic blond there. We laughed and made fun until we'd had enough and ended up on the cool grass on our backsides. We left the field a mess of graphic male images, and vowed never to speak of it again. It was a first step out of childhood and into a messy adulthood.