And so, one day when the parents were out, our little group of pre-teens got together and reviewed every issue we could lay our hands on. We spent several hours giggling at pictures of women’s breasts and what little we thought we could see through their panties. As far as I recall there were no crotch shots but there was plenty of boobage and ass-cleavage to go around.
Debonair also had a bunch of really sexy stories about sluts who didn’t care if you were married and would have wild sex with you. Based on this recollection I figured that watching a moving picture version of such a story would be even more titillating.
Procuring the film turned out to be a bit of a chore.
Andy’s brother was a member of the Vasant Nagar video library and he assured us that despite its “family-friendly” appearance it would have what we needed. The ten of us made our way to the video place and on our way it was decided that Andy would ask for the product. She would be assisted by Neepa, who was selected based on the fact that she was a year ahead of us and would bring much needed gravitas to the proceedings. The rest of us would wait at the far end of the store.
We then paraded in rather confidently but our swagger evaporated as soon as we realised there wasn’t one but three shop assistants, all young guys probably in their mid-twenties. Clearly they were having a very slow day and so when we barged in they all came over to offer their assistance. The chattiest of the three volunteered to help us.
Yes, madam, he smirked at Andy, clearly recognising her from the last time she had innocently rented Back to The Future. We watched in pain as Andy and Neepa hemmed and hawed and finally screwed up the courage to throw down our opening gambit.
Do you have any triple-X rated films?
This is what we had come up with earlier; we were either going big or going home. Triple-X and nothing less. We wanted to see some c***k for heaven’s sake, in as many shapes, sizes and colours as we possibly could.
Madam, we don’t have triple-X only double-X, he informed them, thus dealing our strategy a body blow.
I see, said Neepa very calmly, and then the two scuttled back to us with this news. We huddled together to discuss this setback.
Will this double-X nonsense have a p***s in it?
How do I know?
Your brother rents his videos here, you should have asked him.
Why don’t you ask your brother then?
I don’t have a brother.
We were getting nowhere and were acutely aware of the undivided attention we were getting from the three salesmen. Realising that beggars can’t be choosers we sent Anandi, this time backed by both Neepa and Kalpana (it was her bloody birthday after all), to request the gentlemen to please suggest a title. After a short discussion, the details of which we were not privy to, one of the sales guys disappeared into the back room and reappeared with a film titled Pink Ladies.
It turns out that one should be very specific about what it is one wants to see because what we found ourselves saddled with was two hours of girl-on-girl sex. A man did make an appearance at the very end but it was a cameo of sorts; he played the creep who gets caught jerking off while watching a group of young women take a shower and we barely glimpsed his k**b.
This is stupid, Gayathri declared, although she did appear mildly flushed.
I hope those guys aren’t jerking off thinking of us watching this movie, said Anjali, always concerned about what other people were thinking.
Disgusting! I proclaimed as I continued to watch one lady give head to three others in quick succession. What made this scene so compelling was that the three recipients of the woman’s favour were all playing musical instruments during the act. I am absolutely sure that every single one of us went home and w****d ourselves into a trance but we all declared that in general what we had just viewed was despicable.
Excerpted with permission from Unladylike: A Memoir, Radhika Vaz, Aleph Book Company.
