Remembering the Good 'ol Days

This is a short memoir that just popped into my head. I jotted it down as it developed. Please feel free to give me constructive feedback and let me know what you liked or what you thought could have been improved. It's how I can improve as a writer and do better in the future. Tell me in the comments if you want to see a continuation of this storyline. All characters are at least eighteen years old.

Your votes & comments are appreciated.

This digital age we live in is a true godsend. We are able to practically live our entire lives online. We can shop, do our banking, stay in touch with friends...you name it, almost everything and anything imaginable is at our finger tips.

Personally, for me, the greatest benefit to this digital age we live in is our instant access to adult entertainment. I LOVE PORN, there, I said it! Case closed. As long as I can remember, nothing has satisfied me more, than sex...watching it, reading about it and doing it. I for one don't think I'll ever get enough.

I love having the ability, at any time, to satisfy my carnal urges. In the waiting room at the dentist's office, instead of perusing some dog-eared magazine, I just might whip out my phone and read a spicy story. At home, while everyone is watching some lame reality show, I may, with my ear buds, be watching a classic adult film from the eighties. The thing is, it's there for me whenever I want.

Additionally, the sheer volume and variety of what's available is astounding! I may log onto one of my favorite sites and start watching some hot spring break video. Then, without even realizing it, I may end up going down some video rabbit hole focused on chubby cuckold soccer moms and from there I may end up watching a video about swinger grannies. The point is, I don't care, I like it all and it's all available!

However, there is a downside. I know this sounds stupid, but I miss those old tacky adult movie theaters. This new digital age we live in has forced them to go the way of the dinosaurs and the hoop skirt.

I know, why would anyone miss those old blights on the downtown area? Well, I didn't do this often, but, I used to occasionally get a strong urge to visit one of those establishments. You have to remember, back in the day, adult movie theaters and bookstores were the only available venue to watch adult movies. Yes, there were plenty of books and magazines, but sometimes you just needed to watch people in action and before the advent of VCRs, those movie houses were literally the only show in town.

When I'd read in the newspaper that the local adult theater was playing a movie with one or more of my favorite adult stars, that's when I'd go. I would always pick a time when I would be alone, to make my clandestine trip into the belly of the beast.

I would always make a point of parking my car a few blocks away from the theatre...just in case. To this day, I can clearly remember what it was like buying my ticket and going inside. Without fail, these theaters were all worn out vestiges of better days gone by. They all had the same funky smell of stale popcorn, the hint of a weird sweet air freshener, cigarette smoke and cum. I'd make my way through the usually empty lobby, push aside the heavy, dark red velvet curtain and enter a world all unto itself.

With the exception of the movie showing on the screen, the theatre was always pitch black. I would need to take a moment to get my bearings and let my eyes adjust. It wasn't all that unusual to hear the occasional grunt or groan, and I always tried my best to discern if the noises came from the movie or the audience. Usually, it came from the audience. As the light from the screen reflected down on the theater audience, I'd always try to count heads and see where people were sitting. With one exception that I can remember, the theaters were rarely very crowed. I always tried to sit in an empty row, in a sparsely occupied area. As I'd go hunting for my seat, I remember how the soles of my shoes would always stick to the floor and make a snapping sound as I'd raise my foot with every step. I always assumed the floors were covered in a patina of old dried up soda pop and cum.

I would try to pick a seat that looked relatively clean and not too close to anyone else. Without fail, when I'd lower myself into my seat, all the cushioning would invariably be worn out and as I sat, I'd sink an additional three to four inches. I also tried to make a point of trying not to touch the arms of the seat or any of the crusty upholstery.

Once I was settled in, I would continually be scanning the audience, checking out those folks who were clearly entertaining themselves or having an overt liaison with another theater goer. After I was comfortable with the lay of the land I would finally have a chance to watch the film.

At some point, without fail, I would start squeezing and rubbing myself. I would get myself worked up to the point where I would unzip my trousers and pull out my cock. During the hot summer months I would generally just wear a pair of cotton gym shorts (with no underwear). When I wore those I would usually pull up one the legs of the shorts, exposing myself from below. If I was really horny, I'd quietly stand up, slip off of my shorts altogether, spread them out on the seat, and then sit back down. Then, I would spend the rest of my time rubbing my cock and leisurely stroking myself. When I orgasmed, I was always free to just cum. I would just let fly! I'd usually shoot it straight up and out. It could land anywhere, and I didn't have to care. Most of it usually landed on the seat back in front of me.

I know that from time to time other guys would occasionally watch me, but as a rule, I was always left alone. I know it's just me, but I always found the thrill of exposing myself in the theatre intoxicating. It was my little kink. Masturbating in public, in a somewhat safe setting where there was no fear of some offended person calling the authorities was reassuring.

There was one occasion were some guy came in and sat down one seat to my right in the row just in front of me. He kept turning his head to check me out as I sat there with no pants on, holding my dick. Finally he whispered to me asking if it was okay if he could watch. Now masturbation has always been a very private thing with me. Except for these forays into the theatre, I was always pretty secretive and private about masturbating. But he caught me at a moment when I was incredible turned on, so I invited him to watch. He turned around on his seat and sat up on his knees, leaning over the back of his seat. It was obvious that he was tugging on himself while he watched, but no harm done. Having an audience while I jerked off was new to me at the time. It was an incredible rush putting on a show for such an appreciative audience.

Anyway, now with the loss of those old bastions of seediness, my forays into deviance are long behind me. Occasionally, when I'm longing for yesteryear, I may take off my clothes and jack off in the seclusion of my backyard garden. Being outside is at least something! I've contemplated doing some online video thing, but that just seems a little to involved for my limited technical abilities. Besides, I'd still miss that in person intimate interaction.