I remember when I was fifteen I was given a mangled Hustler magazine in which all the women’s breasts were the size of watermelons. So I took it home and stashed it. I had heard they were stroke-books, but I couldn’t really fathom that since my mother lived under the same roof. I did consult the magazine, mainly the plumpish New Orleans centerfold, who reminded me of my biology teacher when she sat on the lab bench dangling her legs apart, stretching her short skirt outwards. Suffice to say, students fumbled their pens more than usual.
“The more I live, the more I learn. The more I learn, the more I realize, the less I know.”- Michel Legrand
Observation Blogger 
lol
Oh my god. Thanks for liking all of my posts. How sweet! Their are some dubious ‘reflection’ posts in there like the ‘Magazine’ lol
Judging by today’s standards, stroke books of the previous years were way classier and “artistic” than the ones today. Just saying. 😉
I think you are probably right. Also it takes just the click of a button these days. Back in the 80’s you had to go out of your way just to get a peep. You had to know someone who knew someone who could relieve themselves of a jizz mag. Hehe