Having Sex for Fun

Amongst the golden hued memories of my childhood, I recall the summer of my ninth year.
Along with the carefree pursuits of youth, tree climbing and go carting in the never ending August heat, it was the year that I discovered women.

My knowledge of these strange creatures was a fairly dry reservoir, my Mum, my mates big sister and the girl who lived down our street being my only point of reference.
They peed sitting down and made cake.

Oh, how soon this illusion was cast to the seas of nostalgia and that dry reservoir would start to spill over at the brim.

My best mate at the time had a neighbour who worked on oil rig, lets call him Mike.
Mike was away from home for long periods of time.
My mates parents were entrusted with keys to his house, to check on it now and again and collect his post.

One afternoon whilst left alone in his house the combination of a neighbours house keys and 2 bored kids ignited like a chemical formula.

Later that afternoon at Mikes house, our curiosity led us to his bedroom cupboards. (silence the internal outrage, we were only nine, and did I mention how bored we were?)

Looking inside Mikes cupboard is one of those moments that burn them selves into your subconscious that can be retrieved at any moment in your life, without having to look for it.
Hanging up from the rails where you would expect trousers, shirts and the like, were a dozen or so prosthetic legs.

Mike it turns out only had one leg.

The legs were equipped with shoes already in place, some shiny black brogues, others white Trainers.
He had one for every occasion.

Star Wars had just come out that year so the natural conclusion was to re enact our favourite scenes, only using Mikes spare legs as light sabres.
Rather shoddily made spare legs I might add.
A couple of blows from Darth Vader ended with his light sabre coming apart at the knee joint and breaking a vase on the table.

Whilst stuffing the limb back into the cupboard we discovered some VHS video cassettes. One in particular grasped our attention with the rather interesting title..
Debbie Does Dallas.

Of course we wanted to know what exactly Debbie did in Dallas.
We figured it had to be quite spectacular to warrant a film being made about it.
And spectacular it was.
Apparently, sitting down to pee and making cake wasn't the only interesting thing about women.

Like a complex mathematical equation that had baffled us, everything suddenly 'fitted into place'
That equation had now become as simple as placing a square peg in a square hole, and after watching what Debbie actually did in Dallas a square peg can fit in many different shaped holes too.

We left that afternoon in silence leaving Mike to deal with the mystery of his broken 'dancing leg' (it was the shiny shoed one), the broken vase and the missing Video tape.
(and quite possibly a great title for an Enid Blyton book)

The tape became legend as did we for owning it, loaning it out to anyone in our class who had heard the rumours.
And so the loss of innocence spread like butter on hot toast as everyone in our social circle got to find out what Debbie did in Dallas.

I must point out at this point in this shared moment from my history, that at no point was I confused, frightened or perverted by said material, it just all seemed so natural.

Fast forward 30 years and I'm kicking a football about with my 9 year old daughter.

'Dad?'
'Yes, darling'.
'Is it true that you put your penis in Mum's vagina?'

Time stopped still for a moment as the man inside my head, ran around in a panic rifling through the filing cabinets looking for the correct response.
Finding nothing, he decided to go on lunch break and leave me to ad lib.

'Erm, well sometimes. Why do you ask?'

We have discussed such matters recently, but have described the act of making babies almost as a noble act that happens only to create another human and is far too complex to understand as a child.
Such matters as penis's being put inside vaginas have been purposefully censored.

'So do you do it,...just for fun?'

The man in my head is having an extra long lunch break and is quite plainly saying 'you're still on your own sunshine'

'Erm, well sometimes.
But only when your old enough, say 28.
And when you find someone that you really love.
And when you have a house of your own.
And when the person you want to have sex for fun with has been through a vigorous and painful examination by myself and your mother.
Oh, and when you meet someone who can beat me in hand to hand combat.'

'That', exclaimed my Daughter, 'Is really disgusting and im never going to do it'

The man in my head is now back from lunch and telling me to capitalise on this rather beautiful moment.

'Excellent, can I have that in writing?' I offer hopefully.

That evening a signed contract between myself and my daughter stating that SEX FOR FUN IS REALLY DISGUSTING AND I WILL NEVER EVER DO IT, was placed in my bedroom cupboard next to a cardboard box containing the very same VHS cassette of Debbie does Dallas.

Of course I am a being a hypocrite.
Maybe I should just leave the tape lying around somewhere and let her discover it all for herself, just like I did.

But then she wouldn't know what the tape was, let alone how to use it or a machine to play in on.

The video cassette, like myself contains nothing more than grainy obsolete memories from my past, along with ethics and personal views that have been long since recorded over.