Some Doors You Can’t Close by BoudreauxT

Writer: BoudreauxT

Subject: Some Doors You Can’t Close

Link: LS666 Emails / 19.12.2023

Some Doors You Can’t Close

I am a Christian pastor who wants do right but fears he’s opened a door he can’t close. The pendulum swings wide for me, because when I walk in the light, I want to walk in the light. I believe it all, and I preach it all. And I mean it. But when that pendulum swings away from the light, the rush of darkness overwhelms me.

I tell myself, “No, not this time,” but the cravings are so powerful, and I find myself consumed with gratifying dark desires.

I feel such shame because the desires are so unholy, unspeakably unholy, so mouth-wateringly, unholy. And I can’t say no. Some I will never act on. Although if I could with no consequences, oh, my cock hardens at just the thought. But there is no such guarantee — Other desires, though, I have begun to explore discreetly.

I was at a ministry conference recently. In my faith tradition, alcoholic beverage is not allowed. But I stopped at a liquor store en route and hid the Long Island Tea in my suitcase so none of my colleagues had a clue when I checked into the hotel and the conference. Before the obligatory ministry banquet, I drank a couple of those hotel paper cups full of liquor and began to fill a buzz. I went on down and did what I had to do but couldn’t wait to get back to my room and feed my buzz.

Meanwhile I got on an app and found a guy nearby who came to my room and we sucked each other’s cocks (only the second time I’ve ever done that, but alcohol helps). I was a little more drunk than I wish I had been — I drink so rarely that I don’t always know when to say when — but it was still good.

On the way home a couple of days later, I stopped in a name-brand Pharmacy for a snack. As I walked around the store, I came up behind a woman — looked about my age, maybe a little younger — looking nervously at the section where condoms and sex-related items are located.

I paused and watched as she looked around (but not all the way around where I was standing) and then grabbed a bullet vibrator and moved quickly toward the front to check out. She looked embarrassed. I stepped up, like I hadn’t been looking and lusting.

“Have fun,” she said, looked back, and laughed nervously.

I don’t know why I said it or what I said next, but it unfolded better than I could have expected.

“It’s more fun if someone helps you,” I said in a hushed voice.

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t run away or scream for security.

So I said, “I’m not from here and you’ll never see me again. It’s getting dark outside. We can move my car to the edge of the parking lot and try that out.”

She sheepishly smiled, and I took that as a “Yes.”

We both checked out and followed through with our hastily-conceived tryst. I have no idea if she’s married. She had no idea I’m a pastor. But without words I applied the bullet to her crotch but soon moved inside her pants. She came twice. And as she was enjoying herself, she unzipped my jeans and stroked my cock until I came. Before I gave her vibrator back tho, I licked her juices off it.

These are not major acts of blasphemy compared to some of what I read here, but they’re small, unholy steps for me. Moving from light to darkness is not easy when you’ve been in the light as long and as prominently as I have. My wife has no idea what’s in my heart, and I confess that brings me the most shame.

THE END