Paper magazines were so important before the internet. But was it the only part, or was the buying also part of the thrill?

Lookin was good , mags on top shelf, but odd times i bought one felt such a rush

The thrill started just walking in
Whether it was the back of a video rental or a bookstore seeing those old pervs and knowing what they were gonna go home and do would get me so worked up
I was much younger than them and I am pretty sure they felt the same thrill running into me there

Buying the porn mag-especially if it was from a female clerk.
Also if you were at a adult sex shop that caters mostly to women it was buying a vibrating cock ring from a female clerk

Always dreaded someone I knew would come in just as I was paying. Used to love browsing though

I used to love buying my mags, but most of the time I only went into 'dirty' bookshops where ladies served. My favourite was to go in wearing my wank-mac and wank-trousers, and when I'd got the mags I'd go up to the counter with my mac open, wank-trousers covered in spunk-stains, and put my hand through my mac pocket and into my purse strapped to my waist so She could see - obviously I could wank through the holes in my pockets. I'd open my case full of dirty books and show Her one or two mags with ads - next to spunk-stained pics of bare girls with my pervy captions. She always made a note of the mags in the ads but never got any, She knew I just wanted Her to see the state of my mags. Once She was wearing a miniskirt - yes, in the shop!! - and She was sat on a stool talking on the phone. My mouth fell open and I gawped at Her in that short skirt, spunking in my pants in front of Her. Heaven.

Bought my first copy of Playboy when I was still 15, at a neighborhood convenience store just a couple of blocks from my high school. The Playmate was Melinda Windsor, one of the most extraordinary big-tit Playmates of all time -- natural 38DD-23-36, 5' 4", 119 pounds.

My heart was pounding as I completed the purchase, and that evening, in the walk-in closet in my bedroom, I was pounding my cock to Melinda's magnificent tits until I reached an orgasm so intense that my whole body shook! That issue of Playboy -- specifically Melinda's centerfold photo -- made me a titman for life!

The purchase was as much of a thrill for me. Buying porn mags as a (late) teenager would get the heart pumping and build up the anticipation. I liked buying from a guy as we both understood the illicit thrill of wanking and I suppose if I was buying gay mags it was a similar kick to those of you who are straight and buying off a woman.

Still look in on the old newsagent when I visit back home but completely different set up now and all changed.

Very grateful for it in my formative years though.

Today most porn shops are upscale places and are located in better parts of town, but I prefer the porn shops in seedy areas of town where the products were clearly intended for arousal and masturbation and the clerk was usually an unshaved fat slob who did not judge the products you bought like a place I loved to browse in in Lemmon Grove California back in the day.

Those early times often set our preferences LOL

Big torpedo fan here, old school pics are great, DM for chat

My first purchase in my school uniform was Parade magazine, mainly because it was cheap. I was in and out of shop as quickly as possible. After leaving home to go to college in a strange town where nobody knew me, I could relax and browse the top shelf mags. I remember the middle age shop assistant staring at me and getting annoyed. I often make my hard cock bulge obvious if a female assistant.

I agree it was difficult buying the mags I needed when I was still at school, and looking back I missed lots of opportunities when girls were serving. I made up for it later in life when, dressed like an obvious wanker in my 'dirty' mac and heavily-stained wank-trousers I went into Aphrodities where Miss Debbie served and showed Her my stained, toilet-paper stuffed and heavily commented wank-mags, my spunk-stained trousers and holes in my mac pocket and wank-trouser pockets. Once She was sat behind the counter in a mini-skirt - when I saw Her my mouth dropped open and I started to spunk in my pants - lovely memories.

It was a revelation for me that I was able to buy "dirty mags" even when it was clear by what I was wearing, that I was not supposed to be allowed to do so. I wonder if they simply didn't want the embarrassment of raising that in the shop with other customers around

I did not enjoy the act of buying, for fear of being judged. For me 100% of the experience was the trembling with anticipation at home as I removed my pants for a session of masturbation and thrilling cock-tease, fondling and stroking myself as I looked into the eyes and drooled over the bodies of girls whose sole purpose was to drive me mad with arousal and desperate need for sexual pleasure. The knowledge that they knew exactly what they were doing to me, that they enjoyed my frustration and did everything they could to make it worse sealed my fate as a masturbating cock-tease and orgasm addict!