How TV Ruined My Sex Life

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His sex life derails one hot summer afternoon.
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I wish there was a way to not blame my parents for my TV addiction but I just haven't been able to find one. My earliest memory is of watching TV through the bars of my crib. I remember the safe feeling I got every afternoon at two o'clock when the brilliant glow from the lighthouse announced the beginning of the soap opera, Guiding Light. Come to think of it, I probably actually got hooked while still in the womb. Looking back, an in utero heroin addiction might have been better. And really, the only good thing about a TV addiction at age one is that you never have to worry about missing anything while you go to the bathroom; you just go right there on the spot, someone will deal with it during a commercial or when the smell gets bad enough.

Along with my sex life, which I'll get to in a second, it severely hampered my ability to hold a job, rather, a good job. I always sought out positions where I could watch TV. It didn't even have to be regular TV per se, whatever it was, just had to be on one. I took jobs in video stores or electronic stores, anywhere there was a TV. Hell, even my job at the fucking 7-11 had security monitors. I went to college and studied, you guessed it, TV production. That led me into jobs in master control, the part of the TV station where the job is to watch TV. Problem with that, though, is that not only is it the lowest paid and least respected job in a station, but it's also the first one to get hit with cutbacks. Needless to say, I was unemployed more than I wasn't.

I grew up in Austin, Texas, which is a huge music town. So captivating the tube was to me, that whenever I had backstage passes to a big concert, which was all the time, I would always watch the show on the closed circuit system rather than from the side of the stage or wherever. Sad, huh?

Guiding Light kept me hooked well into my twenties. In 1982, my first summer as a high school post-grad, however, was the year TV fucked up my sex life just as it should have been getting rolling. I place the blame squarely onGuiding Light for this although if it hadn't been that show, certainly another one would have done just as much damage. Summers in Austin were Africa-hot and Caribbean-sticky. Thank God we had a pool. And thank God most of my friends didn't. That meant that every summer there was a steady stream of nubile young ladies hanging out at my place. My parents worked long, fucked up hours so they weren't around much and my sister decided to spend the summer in California where she had just finished her junior year at Occidental College. I basically had the community pool and TV – life was good.

I was one of those guys that made friends easily (no, it wasn't just because I had a pool) and I found it particularly easy to make friends with the best looking girls, I just could never take it to the next level. I was into this girl, Mary, one of the hottest girls in school. To this day, she still ranks as the best hardbody I've ever seen. With a teardrop- shaped ass, ample breasts and long, dark hair, there wasn't a single thing I'd change about her. The thing that was interesting, though, were the stories I'd heard about her. This one not-particularly-good-looking jock-type told about the time he almost fucked her but she was so tight he couldn't get it in. He was the one who dubbed her "Hairy Mary".

There was the rumor about the time she deep-throated, Johnny "Huge" Johnson, the legendary quarterback from UT. Reports had Johnny Huge at a hair over eleven inches. No small feat for a five-foot-two girl with an average-sized mouth. Then there was the time she got drunk and passed out at Joe Craiger's ten-kegger and wound up getting her pussy shaved by the baseball team. "Hairy Mary" briefly became "Bare-y Mary". Of course I missed the whole fucking thing because I had to leave early. Why? It was the season finale ofDallas.

Mary and I knew each other but didn't really hang around the same people. When I ran into her at the grocery store that sweltering Friday morning, pleasantries were exchanged and small talk ensued. I can't remember what she was buying but I was getting Pop Tarts and watermelon, my daily menu forGuiding Light viewing. It was close to a hundred fucking degrees at 10 am and would only get worse as the day wore on. For some reason it never occurred to me to invite her over for a swim but after she dropped a few not-so-subtle hints, I finally got it and gladly extended an invitation, as I tried to hold back a shit-eating grin.

"Great," she said sweetly. "Noon okay?"

My heart sank a little. "Oh... that late?" The ideal situation for me would have been for her to come over now, hang about three hours or so then get the fuck out by the time the show came on at 2.

"Yeah, I gotta take my little sister somewhere at 11:30 but then I'm free the rest of the day. Why, you got something else to do?"

"Actually, I have to be somewhere at 2."

The look on her face was one of confusion. "Okay, that's like two hours, that's plenty of time for a dip."

Fuck, first, that was a stupid comment on my part and second, that's half the time I could have spent with this half-naked girl alone in my yard. I tried to cover my idiocy. "Yeah, yeah, that's cool. See you at twelve then?"

On the way home I wondered what my chances of having sex with this girl would be. I'm not a bad looking guy, I'm smart and funny, why not me? Then I suddenly remembered that all of her wild sex stories involved jocks. I was just a guy who worked in a video store. I'd never played a sport in my life. Is that what the secret was? Being a fucking pumped up meathead? I didn't think I had a prayer. Besides, even if something were going to happen, it would have to be over by 2. I was going to have to settle for stealing looks and using my imagination later. Damn it. Why did she have to take her stupid little sister to wherever-the-fuck? It just wasn't fair.

It was 12:20 by the time she finally showed up. I was just starting to get annoyed as the clock drew further away from 12 and nearer to 2. She was apologetic and I played it off like it was no big deal. I pointed her to my sister's room to change. I went outside and jumped in the pool. Now it was like a hundred-and-fucking-ten outside. The water felt great.

She emerged from the house in the tiniest, unbelievably sexy string bikini I'd ever seen. I got hard instantly. She took her time descending the three steps into the pool and allowed me a nice long gaze at her perfect body. She bent over backward to soak her hair, and I got an extended look at her breasts as they sat perched just above the water line.

The next hour was spent soaking and talking. It was the most time I'd ever spent with her and I was pleased to find out that she was down to earth and funny. The conversation eventually drifted toward sex and somehow settled on pornography. In 1982 VCR's hadn't yet exploded on the scene so porn was a lot less accessible than it is now. It was pretty much limited to movie theaters and magazines. Feeling kind of gutsy, I mentioned that I had a small collection of Playboy's but it was actually dwarfed in size by my sister's Playgirl collection.

"Really?" she said, perking up.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Want to see them?"

"What do you think?"

Next thing I knew, I was digging through my sister's porn stash in the trunk at the foot of her bed. Now, I had been down this road before and vowed to myself I would never snoop through her shit again. She had just come home for the summer after her first year in college and seemed to have more cash than usual. Naturally I didn't think she'd miss a little so one afternoon I went looking for it. I got into the trunk and saw the Playgirl collection but also, strangely enough, an issue of Hustler magazine. I perused the pages and got a lot more than I bargained for. Apparently Hustler had discovered her after her boyfriend submitted a naked Polaroid for their "Girl Next Door" search. Now there she was with her own "spread". And spread she was, spread so wide I swear you could see her pancreas. The funniest thing was that she'd spent all of her high school years trying to convince people that she was a natural blonde. Now the world knew the truth. I could only stare at the photos for about fifteen minutes before my disgust got the better of me. I never did find any money.

So there I was again, dreading what I might find. My attention was soon diverted back to Mary who had wasted no time in finding an issue to thumb through. I looked at my watch. It was 1:30 and show time was rapidly approaching. She found a nice roll of beefcake to show me, which only made me feel inadequate. I really didn't want to see those huge guys lying there all flopped over like that.

"That's nice," I said, really regretting my decision to show her that stuff.

"He reminds me of this football player I once knew." She put that issue down, grabbed another and hopped up to the bed. She sat Indian-style and laid out the magazine in front of her.

"I gotta go in like twenty minutes," I said sheepishly.

"Uh huh," she said with indifference.

It was then that I caught a glimpse at her crotch area. Her tiny little bikini bottoms were riding up into her pussy. Apparently the hair had grown back after the Joe Craiger ten-kegger shaving incident. Her clit was squeezing out and I could not believe she didn't notice. Once again, I got hard instantly.

It seemed like I stared at it for an hour, though it was only a couple of seconds. My eyes went from her bush to her face, which, to my horror, was staring right back at me. "Whatcha lookin' at?" She asked expressionless.

My heart dropped into my gut. I was fucking caught. I could feel blackness enveloping my brain. My knees went weak. "What?" I squeaked.

"You heard me."

"I.... uh... I..."

She looked down at her crotch then looked back up at me without doing anything about the exposure.

"Well?" She looked pissed.

"Sorry... I... uh... uh...

"You get a good look?"

"I wasn't... I... um...

Then she did the unthinkable. "Does this help?" She straightened out her legs and spread them. I was getting a phenomenal look. A sly smile crossed her face.

"Yeah..." I said, stunned. I couldn't move.

"How about now?" She stuck her finger into the corner of the suit and pulled it completely away, giving me the full view. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't talk, I felt funny staring, so I glanced over at the clock radio. It read 1:45.

"You want to touch it?"

"Yes," I said, barely audible.

She pulled at the strings on either side of the suit and removed it completely. Jesus Christ! I could practically feel the fucking heart attack coming on! Next she removed her top. The hottest girl I'd ever seen was lying there naked on my sister's bed!

She laid back and spread her legs a little more. "Give me your hand."

I inched toward her and did what she said. She took hold of my hand and used it to help pull her back toward me. I got down on my knees next to the bed. She placed my hand squarely on her bush. I spread my fingers and she guided them through the softest, thickest patch of hair I'd touched before or since. Hello Hairy Mary.

She took hold of my middle finger, moved it down until it reached her clit then used it to masturbate. I glanced at the clock again. 1:51. She turned my hand palm up and inserted my finger into her pussy until it wouldn't go any further. I shot a load in my swim trunks.

I started to fuck her with that lucky digit. Slow in and out strokes, gradually picking up speed. She rubbed her clit faster and faster and moaned with every in-stroke. I added my index finger. It had to be two hundred degrees inside her. She let out a scream and pussy juice free-flowed. I couldn't breathe. 1:54.

I withdrew my fingers and before I could do anything else, she sat up and took my hand again. She put my fingers in her mouth and sucked them dry. "I love the taste, don't you?" She asked.

"Well, I..."

"Taste me."

"Huh?"

"Go ahead."

She grabbed me behind my head and pulled me between her legs. On the way down I noticed it was 1:56. I pulled away. "You have to go."

The look on her face was one of pure shock. "Excuse me?"

"I told you I have to be somewhere by 2."

"Looks like you're going to be late," she said sarcastically.

"I know that's why you have to go now."

"You're serious? Where do you have to go?"

I had to think of something quick. I never, ever figured I'd be in a situation like this. "I gotta go do this thing for this guy." I cringed. Jesus, that was fucking lame.

"What thing? For who?"

"You don't know him." I stood up and looked at the glaring 1:57 on the clock. "Really, you've got to go." I held out my hand to help her off the bed. She just stared at me in bewilderment.

"Really," I repeated. Now I was going to have to toast the Pop-Tarts during a commercial instead of having them ready at the beginning. I always had the Pop-Tarts promptly at 2 then I'd have the watermelon at 2:30, just as the second half was starting. I advanced my hand a little closer. She finally got that I was serious. She slapped my hand away and stood up on her own. "Unbelievable," she said. "Un-fucking-believable."

What could I say? You just can't miss the Friday episode of a soap. Everybody knows they have cliffhangers on Fridays. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Now I had to piss and I was going to have to wait until the first commercial break meaning that I wouldn't be able to toast the Pop-Tarts until break two. My afternoon was quickly getting pretty fucked up.

I watched her as she gathered up her clothes. She pulled on her panties and shot me the "stink-eye". "You mind getting the fuck out of here while I get dressed?"

"Sorry." I left the room and waited impatiently in the hall. I could see the grandfather clock in the den. It was 1:58. It sure seemed like she was taking her sweet-ass time.

She finally came out at 1:59, fully clothed and not in a good mood. She brushed past me toward the front door. "So maybe we can do this again sometime?" I asked hopefully.

"Right," she snapped. And with that she was out the door. Finally. The cuckoo clock in the living room announced the two o'clock hour. All right! Here we go! I flipped on the TV, turned the knob to channel 5 and parked myself in my favorite chair. But what I saw wasn'tGuiding Light. It was Dan Fucking Rather pre-empting the show to bring us a live press conference with President Fucking Reagan! Oh my God! Were they shitting me? It was on every channel. I couldn't even flip over to my backup show,Days of Our Lives. I kicked the TV and went to go take that piss. In the words of Hairy Mary: un-fucking-believable.

So that was the beginning of the end of my sex life. I wish I could say I changed after that, but I didn't. There were many more incidents just like that as the years went by. Eventually I got a VCR and later a TiVo and that alleviated some of the problems but I still put what's on that beautiful glowing box above everything else. Today, I still watchGuiding Light but for years I refused to watch Dan Rather. I also refused to vote for Reagan in '84. Yeah, I'm still single, if I want sex I have to pay for it, and I have trouble lifting my growing fat ass out of the La-Z-Boy. Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad. Thanks, boob tube.

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batjac69batjac69over 18 years ago
paging Dr. Bauer, Big Al Spaulding and Rita

Oh for the days of Roger Thorpe huh lol.

This wasn't much on satire or humor, but the middle part was actually pretty good erotica compared to most of the dregs which shows up in stories.

It was though nice you admitted what a dipstick you were, but I am sure Diane Ballard, Evie and Nola all appreciated your attention lol.

Gave you a 100 for original work which does not show up here a lot.

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