Porn has gotten a hold of me and it won’t let go.I pray I come out of this black hole in one piece.
Things used to be simpler. I could see a pair of tits and it was enough. Now I need the whole enchilada with all of the toppings including sour cream and hot sauce!
We begin as children sneaking a peek at our father’s Playboys and hoping no one is the wiser.
It’s like there’s something wrong with how we’re suddenly feeling and the shame drives us into a deep, dark emptiness that some of us never quite escape from again.
I remember trying to find the word vagina in the dictionary and coming across Virginia and becoming quite perplexed.
The last week or so I’ve again found myself on a model cam sight. I tend to watch the models from other countries. Kazakhstan has become a new favorite and of course the Japanese, Korean and Chinese models never fail to leave me wanting more.
We trade in the shreds of our dignity for a shot at the fuzzy peach because we believe one look and we’ll be set free from our daily labors and night terrors.
Nothing could be further from the truth as I discover myself feeling even more lonely and depressed as I slither from a room at six or seven in the morning wondering if the baggage I’m carrying will ever become lighter and less damning.
Porn has got me in a stranglehold and I cannot break free.
I’d get down on my knees if I believed there was someone actually listening who could wave a magic wand and make me a less obsessive compulsive horndog who wasn’t always so concerned about his next conjugal visit with his right hand and the release that may or may not come when everything is said and done.
Things used to be simpler. You’d turn on Cinemax after everybody had gone to bed and you’d watch people sort of having “sex” and just the thought of you doing this naughty deed while your family slept upstairs was enough to get you off. Now everything has changed and antiseptic porn just won’t do the trick and you need harder core and more illicit images to push you over the edge.