By Tiffy Kink

Part 1 of this story

When my sister and I got home, my mother immediately sensed that something was very wrong. She could see it in our faces. Who would tell it first, my sister or me? As I was about to say it, my sister said it first, I further explained. The look of slight fear came across my mother’s face. Then anger. Not for me, but for the person who dare to put her and her child’s life in danger. We agreed on a course of action that included going to the police station to file a police report.

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By Veronica Wells

To be completely honest, there was a large part of me that balked when it was suggested I write about porn. I’ve enjoyed my fair share of porn (which I’ll talk about later.) But I also remember after one particularly fulfilling session in college, having a That’s So Raven-esque vision of myself becoming addicted to it, watching it every day to the point that it started to interfere with my responsibilities. I saw myself being late to pick my future daughter up from school because I was somewhere getting off. I take my visions seriously and it scared me. So these days I have to stumble across porn, mostly in gif form. And even then, I never linger long.