Giggling, gawping, and a lot of shielding our eyes. I was 15 the first time I watched porn, courtesy of a friend’s older sister who’d hidden a videotape – I know! – behind the sofa when a group of us were having a sleepover. Most of us hadn’t lost our virginity. And after watching that tape, which was packed with scenes far too explicit and violent to detail here, all of us were terrified.
I distinctly remember one friend despairing: “Wait, that’s sex?” For a while afterwards, we sat in silence, contemplating our bleak new reality, one in which we were expected to be slapped and spat on. “And we’re meant to enjoy that?” another friend finally asked.
