Sex was my escape, my way to feel loved, my way to scream, my way to forget about whatever was going on around me.
I wasnt myself, it was if I had an alter ego, a crazy sex feened porn star that craved and demanded it. Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do was my thought process.
I was grown and did whatever I wanted when I wanted. If I had to leave or sneak out, lie and say I was going to a friend house when I was really in the back of my boyfriends car in an abandonded parking lot.
Sneaking him threw my window or even bolder,threw the front door. All because of sex and how good it felt.
But why did I love it so much its not like it lasted as long as I would have liked. The longer the penitration the further my problems were. But the quicker it came and gone the faster my problems attacked me.
Sex was my out it was how I ran from life and the truth I had to face. But it also haunted me, it haunted me night and day.
Voices taunted me saying "more sex, more sex" and then there was "no more sex, no more sex". What was I to do where do I turn.
And there was presenting hisself, saying come on lets do it you know you like it. Was I addicted will it ever stop...?




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