My First Rude Discovery

17 Aug

I’d seen a view rude things growing up. From the lingerie section of the Kays catalogue, where, if I was lucky, they’d feature a few see-through bras and I’d get a hint of aereola; to the fantastic feeling of playing Hide and Seek in the woods with my mates and finding a few ripped out (but crumpled and weather damaged) pages of Fiesta left behind a bush. I, like most of you, had also caught glimpses of Eurotrash, although I could never pick up channel 4 properly in my room with the portable TV aerial so the picture was often blurred. Lola Ferrari looked more like a pixelated Donkey Kong on my TV.

It wasn’t until my first trip abroad that I really got to see something rude; something that really opened my young eyes to new delights that the world had so far hidden from me. Majorca was the destination, and to this day, the excitement of boarding and travelling in a plane, swimming in foreign seas and trying paella for the first time, is still overshadowed by my rude discovery.

It was our first full day at the resort, and my Mum sent my brother and I off to the local shop to get an ice lolly for her and my sister. At 13, I was the eldest and I was handed the cash. My brother, 11, followed me to the store, with further instructions from my Dad to get him ‘a Feast, because ice lollies are girly and just frozen water with food colouring in’. Off we marched and I still remember feeling a little nervous about whether or not the lady behind the counter would start rambling on at me in Spanish. We picked up the items we were asked to get, along with something each for ourselves (for some reason I bought a Lipton Iced Tea), and made our way up to pay. It was then that it happened.

On a stand near the counter, were various holiday trinkets; key rings, postcards, pens and other crap with ‘Majorca’ emblazoned across it. However, there was one set of items that caught my eye in particular – pornographic playing cards. My eyes lit up; here right in front of me, were images of ladies in various states of undress, and most of them had their bronze European tits out. “Look!”, I whispered to my brother, nudging him with my elbow, nodding my head towards the playing cards. He looked up and I noticed his eyes widen too.

“Shall I get a pack?” I asked him, unsure of whether he would think I was being naughty and would tell Mum.

“Erm, yes, do it”, he replied giggling.

So I did.

Although, I do have a slight confession to make. I didn’t actually pay for the cards, and it wasn’t intentional. After handing over the other items I was going to pay for, I just froze; I was a 13 year old boy with a pack of porn playing cards in my hand. As I glanced down, I noticed that I’d picked up the ‘Anal Sex’ edition. I’m not sure I even knew what anal sex was, but I could tell from the image on the front of the pack that it was quite naughty, although the woman seemed to be smiling and enjoying herself. Before I knew what I was going to do, the woman behind the counter handed me my shopping in a carrier bag, and we turned and walked out, with the cards firmly clasped in my hand.

Keeping them in my short pockets for the rest of the afternoon was a scary thought, but I had to do it. I didn’t want my parents to know I had them, and certainly didn’t want them to know I’d stolen them. The hours slowly ticked by and eventually we headed back to the hotel to get changed for dinner. It was here that I managed to unload them into my rucksack, and it was there they stayed until 10 days later, when we arrived back home. I can’t tell you how nervous I was walking through passport control on the way back, thinking I’d be arrested for having these cards on me.

I couldn’t wait to show my friends my newly acquired playing cards, and the very next day we were in the park, flicking through them, laughing at some of the images and almost vomiting at others. For the next two or three days, I was The Porn King; the 13 year old who had everything; Chewits on tap, free cola bottles and white chocolate mice when I demanded, and best swing in the park. My playing cards had given me power amongst my peers. They had also taught me something new – what the term ‘anal sex’ actually meant.
Time passed, and the novelty of the cards wore off. Other boys found their mum’s dildos, or dad’s video collection, and my playing cards could not compete with these. However, I kept them, there was no way I was going to get rid of them; what if my mum saw them in the bin?!

“But what happened to the cards?!” I hear you cry. (well, not really, but it leads me onto the next point).

I still have them.

14 years on, after 2 house moves with my parents, to me moving out on my own into rented accommodation, back in with my parents and then finally last year to my own place; these cards have come with me. It wasn’t until I thought about them again randomly this week that I remembered I still had them, so I checked, and yes, there they were, in the old box file under my bed along with my Granddad’s war medals and old school reports.

I took the liberty of taking a few photos of the images that still take me back to Majorca, the ones that really left a lasting impression:

Obviously, these links are NSFW!! They feature tits, arse, cum dripping cock, minge and ugly foreign people.

Photo 1 – The image on the box. Look how happy she looks – imgur.com/lN53p

Photo 2 – The psychedelic hat man. I always wondered why he kept his hat on, and why the fuck his bought it in the first place – imgur.com/byxvL

Photo 3 – Banana Split. This was the one that my mates and I used to piss ourselves at. – i.imgur.com/wG5We.jpg

Photo 4 – Horny. To be honest, this was the one that made my mates and I feel a bit queasy. – imgur.com/8X84O

Photo 5 – The Work Out. I used to wonder why she had this attire on. – i.imgur.com/RKvvh.jpg

I have actually played proper card games with these cards in the past and I think I’ll keep them for a while longer yet

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