Chapter One


My name is Mark, and I might seem like your average thirteen-year old boy, growing up in the suburbs of any mid-western state, but I wasn’t. My parents had money, so I had a lot of privileges that most other teens my age did not have. And even if money doesn’t make you special, you felt special because you could have anything you wanted, and lots of it.
However, even as a child I was humble despite the fact my parents had money. Because even then I knew it wasn’t my money, I didn’t earn, it. I was just lucky enough to be born to wealthy parents. Money didn’t make you special, money was a gift, I was blessed. So rather than act conceited or arrogant, I never looked down on anyone less privileged than I was. I had to learn the hard way that money didn’t make me superior to anyone else.
It didn’t matter how much money you had in the end, because we all died broke, and the ultimate color was not green, even thou the world ran on it, it was red, because we all bled it. No one’s skin or race was superior to another because death made everyone equal, and I have yet to meet a white supremacist who was bulletproof. You come into this world with nothing, and you leave with nothing. Who said that?
I always sought the truth, so when I tell you my philosophy on politics, religion, or money, especially coming from it, I want you to believe me, because it is the truth. Now here’s one subject everybody’s fucking confused on -women. But if you pay attention, and read in-between the lines you may pick up on a few things.
It was just another lazy Sunday afternoon for me, as I had my large bedroom windows open just enough to let in the summer breeze, but not enough for anyone to see me lying naked on my bed. We were Catholic’s but we weren’t practicing Catholic’s, so we seldom went to mass (service), on Sunday, and when we did go to service it was usually just on the holidays, Easter and Christmas. Wait a minute, maybe that was the definition of a practicing catholic.
Not being a devout practitioner meant that I carried a lot less guilt than the average Catholic. Whenever my parents went out for breakfast, or to play golf, or whatever the hell they did when they left, I would be home watching porn in my bedroom instead. I was in the eighth grade now, and I had watched all my dad’s adult videos and also secretly recorded them for myself.

I had my own video player, TV, headphones, and a good amount of privacy on the weekend, and I needed it. Let’s be honest, most guys my age had developed an incredible fascination for the female body. Porn for guys was modern sex education. Today you can see porn on satellite, cable, the Internet, and even video games.
But back when I was a kid we only had DVD’s, or video tapes before that. I must have seen each of my dad’s adult video’s at least a dozen times, and now I was starting to get bored with them all. There were maybe fifteen total and I wished he would start buying some new ones.
Why did he stop?

Was my mom fucking him again? Unlikely. My dad never sat me down to
explain the facts of life yet; I don’t think he knew them himself. Well, not until it was too late anyway, and that’s why he and my mom had to get married in the first place.
Biology class taught you the definitions of body parts, human and otherwise, dissecting frogs, fetal pigs, and pictures of pregnant woman who looked like they were photographed by a homicide detective. Biology wasn’t going to teach you how to fuck thou!!!
Porn was your visual aid for that, and everything else sexual. Blowjobs, anal sex, cunnilingus, sixty-nine, three-way’s, girl on girl, and freaky shit like S&M, midget’s, tyrannies, bestiality, and even people who pissed and shit on each other. But I wasn’t in to that kind of craziness, so I never watched those, but still you had to know about it, in case one of your jerk-off friends at school brought it up in your circle during lunch.

You do not want to be the only one standing there like a dumb-fuck, wondering what a “donkey-punch” is?” I guess porn had been around since movie cameras. But it got really big in the 70’s. And the porn of the 70’s was by far the raunchiest and most disgusting, ever. If you compared 70’s porn to modern porn, there wasn’t anything even remotely arousing about it, by comparison.
The seventies porn had a lot of bald, ugly, sweaty, hairy, people that reminded me more of “Animal Planet” today. No sexual redeeming value whatsoever, except for the violence. Porn plots in the 70’s had a lot of emphasis on rape, kidnapping, and forced prostitution.
If some ugly black pimp wanted his dick sucked behind a bar alley, all he had to do was snap his fingers and a flock of skanky white bitches came running in stilettos, sometimes even breaking a heel trying to get to him first. I’ll never forget that bitch in the body cast. And then that horrible guitar music would start.

In 70’s porn, the pimps were always black, and if he was “breaking in” a new girl, like some white run-away from the suburbs, and she started giving him some “bullshit,” he would simply beat her ass until she begged him to stop. Afterwards she would do whatever the fuck he wanted, I guess in “porn-world” that was called “Foreplay.”

Now by the time, DVD’s were used to replace video tapes, all the hard-core (sexual abuse) porn was gone, and made illegal. If you were to see those images as an adult that would be disturbing enough, but as a child, once you embedded sex with violence, it scarred you for life, and you could never separate one from the other again.

Mind you, I never got off by choking some bitch to death while I was fucking her, and I never grew up to become a serial killer, but I always enjoyed sex the most, when I could associate some level of aggression with it.

But more than that I leaned something about woman from watching porn. I don’t why but I had a knack for seeing the things that other people missed. It was invisible to them, but obvious to me! And it really got me over with woman after I discover it. And I don’t mean some woman I mean all woman.

It was even more shocking to discover that other guys, older guys, even married guys, hadn’t figured out what I had, in fact most didn’t even have a clue, and by comparison I was living in a different world.

I didn’t know it at the time but my friends, teachers, and especially the girls in my class noticed a real change in me. They knew I knew something, but they didn’t know what it was. They all thought I was so cool and confident, like I had discovered some hidden secret of the universe.

Maybe I had, you be the judge, but just for the record, I never thought I was cool, especially around beautiful woman, I just wasn’t intimidated by them anymore.

It didn’t matter if she was Ms. America, Ms. Universe, or Jenna Jamison when she was in her prime; eighteen years old and doing her first porno. No matter how rich or poor, educated or sophisticated, married or single, I always had the edge, and I made sure they fucking knew it.
-Mark Winters,






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Author: rath1967

Professional writer and novelist. College Graduate Communications 25 Years Computer Graphics and Art Genius IQ Eidetic Memory Test Tube Baby Used to Bull Eye WAMPRATS in my T-16 back in Beggars Canyon Favorite Quote to a Woman: Shhhh, No More Talking.....