In the decades I grew up in things started to loosen up. All kinds of shit that had once been fanciful were suddenly available for a price.
I recall seeing Bridgit Bardot naked on late night Canadian television. Bridgit does not know much about cooking up a good seal pie but she was hot as a big slice of flipper pie straight out of the oven in those days.
It was fashionable at the time to have a themed recreation room. Many people chose a Polynesian theme. Going to Hawaii was where the fuck it was at. My own parents recreation room was booze themed. There was a big bar with a fridge and a tv hung from the ceiling the parents could watch the Canucks get blown out on while they played snooker and drank Screech and Black Label. My buddy Arnold's dad had a pornography themed recreation room.
Whenever I visited Arnold he wanted to go down to the rec room and look at his dad's porn. The girls in the photos did not look like any of the girls we went to school with, except for a couple very early developers, but they did look like the girl with the big tits in the local mall's shoe department who had to bend over just so to help us into our new church shoes.
"Take a look at those!"
There were no photos of fisting or facials or whatever it is that counts as edge pornography these days. Just Playboy, Penthouse, Stag and some German language stuff with people half dressed in uniforms from World War Two carrying riding crops.
One time when I was at Arnold's house his sister was down on her knees scrubbing the floor. She was wearing some sort of a skirt and her bum was hanging out. It did not look like the bums in the magazines. Still, it was not bad. Arnold flew into a rage. "Put some underwear on! Beer can see your stinky bum!"
We went back downstairs to the porn. The porn room was a man's room. There were cigars, booze and match books and ashtrays from all the swank hotels Arnold's dad visited on business.
Used to be all a man needed in life was porn, booze, hockey and cigars. Now we are all sensitive motherfuckers.