Got Caught with Porn

I was nine. 

My favourite things in life at this point, ( in no particular order) were: my little baby brother Conner, my friends, my hair, lesbian porn, and The Proud Family. 

Now, this was before I knew what pornhub was (I would discover the abysmal, depth-less potential of this later on). This was, however, before YouTube got rid of the good stuff, and I would often spend many an elementary school night carousing through the yield of "girls kissing" in the search bar.

As fun as that was, there was only one computer, which was downstairs in the living room. This was great when no one was home, or when my mom was in our basement working - however, obviously not ideal when people are home. 

Anyway, this one time I was going through my mom's shit (still one of my favourite things to do to date, tbh), and I happened upon two slim books hidden in a back compartment on the entertainment set where the TV was in her room. 

Oh? I love books. 

I picked them up, and oh boy. 

What exactly do we have here?!

I picked up the little books and studied them in the light. White women adorned the cover, with baloney-coloured nipples covered in white lace, and a secret on their thin little lips. My favourite. 

I wiggled my fingers in delight as I turned the pages, spellbound. The books were a short collective of erotica, sent in to the magazine by the readers. I read both books cover to cover, twice in the span of 45 minutes. 

My favourite story in the collection was about this woman who bangs the new girl at her office. I also loved the story about the old white doctor that would fuck his equally old white patients to keep them "healthy". I was a weird kid. Still am. 

Anyway, with all of my newly acquired knowledge, I tucked the books back where I found them. Good to know. 

I then bee-lined towards my room, to go and do "the thing". 

I suppose "the thing" would be masturbation in plain terms, but see, I didn't know anything about the vagina or all the fun buttons down there yet. It literally never once occurred to me, at this point, to ever actually put my hand down there. I was also in grade three and a literal small child so... yeah. 

Back to "the thing". It was basically the process by which I stood, sat, or laid down (laying down was ideal), and then crossed my ankles, and squeezed my legs together super hard, thus making my lower regions feel quite groovy. Except for the very painful leg cramps, but I mean you just can't have it all, can you? 

From another perspective, such as my mother who caught me doing this on the couch many-a-time, this looked like a weird kind of fetal position, whereby my legs and thighs would be absolutely shaking with the force that I was applying to the squeezing. I would lay there, face pinched with concentration, and squeeze and squeeze until my thighs gave out, or until I was called to dinner. 

Again, I didn't know what exactly this was, I just knew that it felt real good, I had been doing it for a long time, and that it was especially fun to do after all of my... special research. 

Needless to say, my mom's room quickly became the fucking spot.

One day, I was warming up with a lesser-developed story (I was nine, but I still knew good literature, ok!)  about stripper cops who were invited to a Halloween party, and then turn out to be real cops, and then fuck every one anyway, when I heard the worst possible sounds my little whore ears could've heard. I heard footsteps. 

And these weren't the little, heavy footsteps of my mom making her way around with the baby, no. These were the full grown five-stairs-at-a-time steps of my brothers father Kevin. He cleared the stairwell in 3 seconds, there was no time. I was trapped.

Well, fuck that. I'm not going down with a fight. I shoved the book under my mom's bed and shot straight up to greet him at the door. 

"Oh, hello!" I near-screamed as he entered the room. From here on, I'll describe what happened in a sequence of moments. 

Moment #1 - Kevin asks why I'm in their room. I apparently am "playing". 

... Playing where, Chloe? He obviously doesn't buy this, which leads to 

Moment #2 - "Operation: Get This Guy Out of Here Before He Snitches and Also Lowkey So I can Finish What I Was Doing Cause I Wasn't Done"

I suggest with sudden vigor, that we go outside and play. I grab his hand on my way out the door because I'm an adorable child, and he obviously will do as I say.

Moment #3 - He says no. 

Ok. Well, that's rude but that's also causing a lot of panic cause now he's not only venturing deeper into the room, but he is also now suspicious because I'm behaving like far more of a spazz than usual. The last trick up my sleeve presents itself:

Moment #4: I dive ahead of him, and assume a very natural and casual pose in front of the bed where I hid the magazines. 

Except this is quite obviously neither a natural or casual thing to do, and he now knows for sure that something is up. 

He asks what I'm hiding. 

I widen my already widened eyes and tell him I have no idea what he is talking about. Obviously I need to work on my poker face, cause he just gets down and looks under the bed at the spot right beside me and low and behold: that snake-ass porn book, that my snake ass-little arms couldn't shove far enough under the snake-ass bed. I think it might have even gleamed a little in the light.

He pulls back and we look at each other for a moment. 

Imagine two of the Skai Jackson sitting memes looking at one another. I wasn't gonna speak first, fuck that. My nine year old brain was already accumulating the list of Christmas gifts that I could kiss goodbye because of my little jezebel ways. It was also this precise moment that I realized that life wasn't fair. 

Anyway, I obviously looked scared shitless, cause he just told me not to touch those again, and then sent me to my room. Before doing that, he promised me he wouldn't tell my mom. 

Well, fuck. I obviously couldn't lie, cause lying is bad, so who the fuck was gonna tell my mom?

I debated, and debated, and paced and went for a long swing on the set in the backyard before deciding to write my mom a note. I knew that if I told her myself, that she might understand and even appreciate my honesty. 

I got my ass beat and my TV taken away. 

And that's the story of that one time I got caught with porn.