It was the 1980s. I had just turned 18 a few days prior and I was waiting outside a friend's work for him to punch out. There was a sex book shop a few doors down from his restaurant that I'd seen before. We'd joked about it, but I never really gave it much thought. I had about an hour to kill, so I said what the hell and went inside.
My plan was to browse a little, see what a sex book shop was all about, and leave. Maybe tell my friend about what I'd seen and about the creeps that were in there and have a good laugh about it.
When I walked in, I was struck by how sparse the place was. The store was pretty big, but it
looked almost empty. There were books on shelves on the walls, but there were no shelving units anywhere else on the floor. It was a big open room.
Looking around, there was a counter with a cash register in the corner opposite the door I had just walked in. It was right up against the large front window, which was frosted. No one could see inside and looking outside, you could see shapes moving around, but no defining features.
There were no signs like you might see in a regular bookstore or even old time video shop,
showing what the categories are: romance, action etc. But as I looked around, it was clear the books were grouped into sections.
Before I move on, I'd like to tell you a little about myself at that time, and about the time period in which this was all taking place.
Right off the top, I said this was the 80s. Of course, there was no internet, so to get access to porn, one had to physically go out to a brick and mortar building and buy it. Either in magazine form, book form or video form.
I had purchased a few Playboy and Penthouse magazines from my local convenience store
over the years, but I'd never been in a place like this.
I had entertained thoughts of gay sex and had masturbated while fantasizing about guys, but I had never really taken it seriously. I'd never purchased Playgirl magazines or anything like that. That would have been weird and embarrassing. I was just a regular straight teenager, after all. Nothing to see here.
In fact, I didn't know any actual gay people and it was not something anyone talked about
anyway, especially in high school. Of course, we'd joked or used the word gay as an insult, but that was it.
There was a burgundy curtain near the back of the store, a doorway to another section. I can't remember whether there was any sign to indicate what was behind the curtain.
During my few minutes inside the store I had seen someone, a young man a little older than me, long blond hair, with glasses and skinny walk through those curtains. He didn't look like an employee. He seemed to be just another customer, maybe looking a little embarrassed to be there.
After a few more minutes of perusing the books and magazines, I noticed someone coming out from behind the curtains. He was in his 30s or 40s and chubby. He walked straight out of the store without looking around.
Now, I was a little curious. Maybe there was another section of reading material back there. Maybe they kept the tame stuff out here and the good stuff in back. Maybe it was just the bathroom. Maybe I was wrong and it was an employees only area.
I decided I was going to check it out. If anyone asked, I'd say I thought it was just another part of the store and apologize and leave.
I walked slowly towards the curtain. It was wavy like a curtain you'd see on a stage at a theatre production. It had an opening in the middle, so using the backs of my hands I parted it and walked through.
