Sex education, a social history.

I grew up in West London sixty plus years ago. No telly, no video games and no cell phones. So we made our own entertainment. The main road west out of the city was the A40. the Western Avenue which ran between the city and mid Wales. About eighteen miles from the city center it passed through Swakleys Woods, a great place for kids to get into trouble in. See the road today and you wouldn't recognise it from the old days before it became dual carriageway and our woods became a housing estate. Then it was not much more than a wide country lane. Anyway, around about the mid fifties, it was also the place to go if you wanted some cheap naughties. Lorries and vans lined the side of the road, (no stopping nowadays) while their drivers disappeared into the trees to find love at ten bob (50p) a time. There were usual three girls working the woods. Having chosen their partner, which was like choosing between a gorilla, a chimp and an oran utan, the Lothario's would follow on to the young? lady's favourite tree. They all had a favourite tree, usually a birch or similar shallow rooted type with a distinct lean, giving her something to rest her back on. These trees were easy to find, the ground around them being littered with used condoms, like a latex autumn.
What these two didn't know was that a dozen or so small boys had hidden themselves in the bushes around the tree. We would watch the proceedings with interest until the poor bloody lorry driver got to the short strokes, and then the bushes erupted with screaming, yelling kids. What this did for him I don't know but the woman usually gave chase, but never stood a chance. Another tree was alongside the River Pinn which intersected the woods and we would hide on the other side until they were at it, then we'd throw concrete blocks, house bricks, anything heavy into the river as close to the other bank as possible, sending up plumes of dirty water, soaking the lovers. Kids these days don't know what they're missing.
On our way to the woods we passed an old orchard. Well, I say passed but only after we'd gone through it like a swarm of locusts. We called this "scrumping" and it was a perfectly legitimate pastime as far as we were concerned.
We never thought of it as stealing apples. But it was.
So that was my early teens, thieving and hanging out with whores. Miracle I turned out so normal, isn't it?
Nurse, the tablets!