To me was a LOT worse. No magazines.
Let me tell you a story.
On a fine week afternoon, I came from school to my Aunts house. She was the only one there. Busy with the house chores and with no patience for 9 year old me. So, I did what I usually do. Have lunch, pick my pack of Comics and of to "my hideout". This was a small stretch on the top of the building across the street, facing the back, behind the Elevator machine room. No one went there, only me. It had a awning and everything, someone had forgotten it there. So, I was hidden from everyone, I could read in peace.
This was in Africa, in the 70's. There I was delighting myself with X.Men Comics. When I heard 2 women talking. The back of that building faced the back of another one. This one had Verandas on the back side. It was a shorter building, so, I was above the last floor. The voices were of 2 women, maybe late 20's. In bikinis. Catching some sun.
Well, things escalated. Pretty soon the bikinis were on the floor. And my 9 year old eyes almost fell of my face. Then they started kissing... all over. And the rest is burned in my mind and made me a instant appreciator of Saphic Arts.
I got into trouble that day, I couldn't make my legs work, after staying crouched in the same position for hours. I got home way past my usual 6 PM. I told them that I fell asleep.
I so wish it had been magazines. Those I could re-read...
Peace
![Big grin :D :D](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)