It all started with a scene that displayed the enticing erotic moves… I watched keenly to the porn act, l would have opted the sight but it seems my fingertips were frozen at the moment. I saw myself watching another, and it continued again and again.

The sex views did form an internal urge in me that made me want more of it….l did not stop, l viewed it with my index finger having affair with my tongue. I hated what it did to me but it was my choice to press the play bottom.

The desire formed a black cloud in my fairy lifestyle, each day l did drag my self to the pool l knew would drown me someday but l did not stop… I never loved the feeling l had afterwards, especially spilling the eve’s milk after the show.

I was a church girl in the midst of all this, being viewed as the perfect chorister, wife material, daughter….l did pray for all of it to go away but l felt prayer brought me to the very path pornography was treading…

I did not tell anybody that this thing was building a gap in my heralding castle. I felt nobody would believe me because of my remarkable reputation… Nobody would have thought that l would entangle myself with porn let alone laying in his bosom…

I got tired with the depression that came with it, especially when am called sister,  my conscience would stand still. I knew l had to stop this or else it would see the end of me… I gathered my confused pieces , telling myself the truth and determining that it had to end.

Smiting myself with the No attitudes towards the creamingly masculine touched that formed a clog in my life. I don’t know how it all went away but l never gave up in putting an end to his existence by praying and stopping the music he danced to in my memory lane.

Porn may be as sweet as a honeycomb but l love life more.

Imaobong. O