Page 24: — The bookstore

Well, after lunch, Diana dragged me to an alternative bookstore down the street.  I quickly found myself intimidated by how comfortable she was looking at nasty explicit pictures and talking about them matter-of-factly.  I'd known she identified as a bi-sexual dyke, but I was kind of shocked at her open kinkiness. 

Then she had to run off because she was late, and standing by myself in the checkout line, I realized how scared I felt to admit I was even interested in sex.  I found myself trembling, actually physically shaking, just because I was going to buy some books. 

I was afraid of what the guy at the cash register would think.  He'd assume I was horny.  He'd know I was ignorant, maybe inadequate, and look down on me.  He'd tell his friends about this girl who bought sex books, and they'd joke about "educating" me and laugh about it.  Fuck!  No wonder I hadn't done it before. 

But at home that night, poring over my acquisitions obsessively, they seemed much more tame.  I started with books that had pictures.  It was funny, a lot of the explicit pictures of bodies and genitalia and even sex didn't have any erotic resonance with me at all, they were just interesting and strange.  A few did grab me, though, made me wet, made me blush.  That was disturbing. 

I masturbated very satisfactorily that night thinking about those particular ones.