I thought I knew what desire was, what temptation meant, and how far curiosity could take me. Being in campus in Nakuru brought freedom, excitement, and a world that seemed larger than life. I was young, daring, and, admittedly, reckless in ways I would soon regret.
It started with a married man I met through a friend. He was charming, confident, and seemed to know exactly how to say the words I wanted to hear. I convinced myself it was harmless just a little thrill, nothing permanent. I ignored the warning signs: the secrecy, the hushed conversations, the way he never wanted anyone to know.
One evening, we met alone. The campus was quiet, streets dimly lit, and for a moment, it felt like the world existed only for us. I followed him, curious, excited, and foolishly trusting. What I did not know was that hidden dangers sometimes manifest in ways we never anticipate.
Within minutes, I began feeling sharp, unnatural sensations in my private parts. Pain. Burning. A pressure that made me scream out loud. I tried to move, to pull away, but it was as if my body had betrayed me. I could not explain what was happening. Panic set in.
Students nearby rushed toward the noise, and I could barely speak, only scream. The next day, terrified and confused, I confided in a close friend.
