My earliest zit popping memory happens to be my first zit ever. When I was twelve I got this little white bump on my face under my right eye. As weird as this sounds I didn't know what to do about it. Somehow I missed that part of health class. So, I ignored it for a little while. Until my mother noticed it. Her advice was simple take a needle and pop it. So I tried with her watching. She watched me try to stick myself and says gimme that. Next thing I know I'm pinned up against a sink getting my check drilled out. We got the pus out. And I was hooked.
I noticed that I had little bumps (aka keratosis piliaris) on the tops of my arms. Did those pop? Oh yes they do. I LOVED sititng quietly and gently working the little nuggets and strings out of those bumps. Or if it was huge I would get vicious with myself (does that sound wrong?) and quickly squeeze the heck out of it.
I remember a year later at seventh grade orientation there was this boy in the line for asb cards in front of me, he actually went on to be very popular, who had the worse acne peeking out of the back of his cool t-shit. I had to look away, and force my hands into my pockets. They were pocessed they kept rising up.
Also, when I couldnt sleep I'd sit on my bathroom counter and carefully examine my skin for anything popable.
Then at the end of my eightth grade year party, I met this hot (albeit a little scrawny and lanky) boy who had zits. Lots of zits. Not bumps but true awesome acne. Big beautiful white heads and cysts. And he shared my love of fast cars and animals. I never worked up the courage to ask him if i could pop any of his zits while we were dating...all seven years...but after (not immediately, a while) he proposed to me i talked him into letting me pop this huge chunk of cystic acne that had been growing on his neck forever. He claimed it was a scar and not a cyst. But, my persistance and my leg lock (yes I put him in a leg lock and told him I'd release him after the cyst was delt with). So I put really light gentle pressure on it. And it exploded. Clear yellowy fluid shot me in the face. It was fun stuff.
I've popped multiple zits on the RowdyHubby. And recently, I've been able to convince him to return the favor. He's actually turning into a bit of a blackhead conesiur.
I've popped a lot of zits on family members. The only person who I haven't been able to work up the courage to ask is my mother. Which is pretty disapointing to me because she has these gianormous older (not old, my mother is not old and if I called her that she'd murder me in my sleep) lady blackheads. They look like little lakes of pus-ee black goodness. I try to not look at them. My father doesn't seem to get old man zits though, so I've never had to worry about that. I dont think I could ask him...either.
I've loved picking at things since I was little. Once I got an infected mosquito bite, and oh what joy it was to pop the pus out of that thing! I'd always try and gently squeeze the blackheads on the faces of the guys I was dating;usually they wouldn't protest too much if you were careful. 
My husband used to get great great blackheads on his back, and I loved squeezing out those big plugs! I'd say, "Look at the size of this thing!", and he'd reply, "Why don't you have it bronzed." 
