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Like others here, I was reading exclusively in the adult section of my local library by the time I was 15. Our local library was a small branch and had a children's room and the main room. My reading age was well above my chronological age and the selection in the children's room was getting boring when I reached my teens.
A couple of times the librarian said she'd have to check with my mother before she'd let me check something out, but in general I was checking stuff out pretty freely. It helped there was nothing really objectionable - the dodgiest stuff I remember reading at that age was Sergeanne Golon and Frank Yerby. Most of the actual smut went over my head anyway (convent education) - or I dismissed it as more soppy stuff. I was around 15 when I came across D H Lawrence and that was because a school friend gave me a copy of Lady Chatterley and one of my great aunts caught me reading it.
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