Premeditated lust

Many years ago, I was invited to attend a very luxurious four day - all expenses paid - getaway.  The trip was sponsored by a manufacturer of products that I was fairly consistent at specifying as an architect.  The location was remote and pastoral.  I was with a group of around 12, a few of which were also from Mississippi.  We stayed the first night in a major midwestern city before being flown by private jet to our final destination which was essentially a beautiful lodge on a lake set on the outskirts of a small town in the middle of nowhere.  The lodge was fully staffed.  Every meal was exquisite.  The booze flowed freely.  It was both a relaxing and slightly lonely trip for me despite the setting.  I'm just not much of an extended outdoorsy kind of guy...especially with strangers.  Perhaps the trip could have been one day shorter.  I remember being very ready to return home on the last day, for reasons you'll soon see.

The pilot who flew the corporate jet stayed with us at the lodge.  He asked me to join him for some mountain biking one afternoon despite the fact that we hadn't spent anytime together earlier on.  I agreed to go with him after soon realizing that he was probably just being polite in asking.  Keep in mind that I hadn't ridden a bike in many years, much less ever mountain biked.  After loading up two bikes into the back of a truck, we headed off. 

As a side note, during this period of my life, I had shared with very, very few people any details relative to my sexuality, that is, other than my wife.

So, when we arrived at our even more remote destination, he unloaded the bikes, we put on our helmets, and off we road. 

Within just a few minutes of the ride, I knew I had made a difficult choice in how to spend the afternoon.  It was too much, too fast...especially for a novice like myself, but circumstances being what they were, I was determined to do the best I could at keeping up.

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When I was in college, I had a roommate who was a serious bodybuilder.  He wasn't athletic but nevertheless had spent much of his free time during his high school career in the gym, and it had paid off.  For a young man in his early twenties, he was a very impressive specimen, and it wasn't just due to his allegiance to strength training but also to the inherent blessing of acquiring a particular combination relative to his DNA which lent itself to developing gains in mass and definition easily.

Surprisingly, I rarely found myself distracted by his physique even during the rare occasions that I was in the dorm for longer than usual, but that's not to say that it wasn't inspiring.  Thankfully, his personality also served to combat any tempation on my part.  Despite our differences, I eventually did find the nerve to ask him to teach me how to strength train, and he agreed to take me on.

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The bike ride was one of the most physically intense experiences I've ever taken part in.  I remember going up and down rough, narrow trails at a frighteningly fast pace as I tried desperately to keep up with my new friend.  The trails were rough, therefore every rut and stone was telegraphed through the aluminum frame and into my body as we road.  Eventually, I had to stop and walk the bike up the inclines.  I simply couldn't pedal any further.  The pilot was gracious enough to encourage me along as he waited patiently for me at each crest.  I couldn't help but be embarrassed. 

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On a Sunday afternoon, my roommate took me to the gym for our first workout.  From what I remember, it was a busy time in this dimly lit, sweat scented, heavy metal music filled cave.  There were multiple rooms filled with all means of well worn equipment, and each space was linked together confusingly not unlike Prince Prospero's abbey.  I couldn't have weighed more than 145 lbs. during this time. 

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The pilot had advised me to wear my swimsuit in case we decided to swim after our ride.  I had done so.  By God's grace, I didn't die, and we eventually reached a small lake adjacent to the trail.  The pilot road on to retrieve the truck, and I literally collapsed into the very cool, clear water completely spent. 

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Essentially, my roommate took me through his afternoon workout.  Every exercise he did, I mirrored.  He gave me no instructions relative to form or breathing.  There was no stretching or warm up.  There was no acknowledgement, in any form, that I was a novice.  He treated me like, I suppose, he would have treated a long term workout buddy.  It was very frustrating and incredibly difficult.  Once again, I knew almost immediately that I'd made a difficult choice in how to spend my afternoon.

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The pilot came back with the truck a few minutes later and loaded up the bikes as I sat motionless with just my head and toes above the shallow water at the edge of the placid body of water.  I was supporting my stiffened body with my hands on the lake bottom, relishing the illusion of weightlessness.  All of my muscles were fatigued, but the weird thing was, it felt as if I was still moving up and down those god forsaken trails.  I remember not being at all comfortable without my shirt on.  That was another reason I was submerged as I was, but the cool waters were more than enough to distract me from my shame, being the nice reward that they were.

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Eventually, we returned to our dorm room.  There was a flight of concrete steps that had to be traversed to get up to the ground level from the parking lot.  Those extra steep 8 or 9 risers were almost impossible for me to walk up.  My legs simply wouldn't work despite the fact that I'd been using them all my life.  Things became more disturbing when I went to the loo to pee.  My arms, wrists, and fingers were like jell-o.  They wouldn't respond to my brain despite the urgency of needing to piss, and when I did finally get my dick out of my shorts, my urine was discolored and putrid.  Despite the fact that I wasn't dead yet, I felt certain that I soon would be.

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The pilot took off his shirt and swam like a champ, eventually making it across the length of the pond and back again, which according to him, was his routine.  When he made it back to me, he sat on his knees, with about half of his torso out of the water.  Here we were out in the middle of nowhere, just he and I, sitting half naked in a breathtakingly beautiful freshwater pond, relaxing and ?.  

When I was in high school, I harbored porn in my room in the form of a wall calendar or two that I kept hidden away.  These were calendars that I would nervously purchase from retailers like this one in our local mall.  One particular calendar's cover model I had lusted after on countless occasions, weaving elaborate fantasies with the image in mind.  The photograph was taken with the model facing the camera whilst partially submerged in a swimming pool.  About half of his torso was exposed to the lens.  There was something about that photograph that made it almost effortless to be swept away.

The pilot, I soon discovered, had been a Marine, hence his physical prowess and athletic ability.  He admitted to not being in top form before telling me more details than I ever expected to find out about his life.  In looking back, he must have been lonely, having spent the majority of his time outside of our group back at the lodge.  I enjoyed being a listening ear as we continued to query each other during the course of this lazy afternoon.

Eventually, my hands were very wrinkly and my body temp started to fall, hence the chills we both began to experience.  We got out and dried off before hopping in the truck and returning home.  I truly felt refreshed.  The arduous ride had been worth the pain to experience that final hour with my new friend.

Evening came and I decided to turn in a bit early after dinner.  Everyone had their own room with a private bath.  Since this was our last night, my colleagues decided to stay up and party.  I soon found that I had the dormitory portion of the compound to myself for all practical purposes. 

And that was just what I wanted.

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I gave my roommate no indication of the misery I was facing after spending those few hours with him.  Showering was the hardest part though.  Not being able to lift my arms made for an interesting game of "prop the limb on the shower stall wall".  By the end of it, my frame was shaky and weak, like a rubber band that had been stretched out way too far.  I felt miserable both physically and mentally.

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The guilt I experienced after lusting after my new friend whilst pleasuring myself via masturbation was akin to having someone instantly teleport me to the icy cold surface of the moon.  The dark side of the moon, that is.  I cannot remember ever feeling so utterly alone and despondent than at that time.  It was as if God had truly abandoned me for defiling such an honest and worthwhile gift.  This soldier did not deserve to be corrupted by my hedonistic mind.  Never could I have imagined the emotional and spiritual consequences of biting into this particularly wicked fruit.


One might argue that didn't occur.  I know it's possible to do this because I had done so many times before.  That's why I used and abused my porno calendars so often when I was a child.  Because those were photographs of men I'd never met, it was easier to justify, but this was very, very different.  The notion of truly private pleasure only holds water when you remove an all knowing, sovereign God out of the equation.  Plus, one cannot deny the fact that I was no longer a child either physically or spiritually. 

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I only went back to the gym with my roommate once again during that school year, and during the second workout, I still followed along and continued to be severely misled as to how one should begin (much less maintain) a strength training routine.  What I did take away from this experience was how not to take the first steps into a gym, though thankfully, I did not allow myself to become disenfranchised.

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When I think back on this trip, it is bittersweet.  I feel blessed to have been asked to go, but have deep regret for making a mockery of God's provision through my actions during that last day.  This particular stumble represented a turning point for me.  About the same time, my responsibilities as a husband were becoming much more difficult to bear.  Soon thereafter, I sought counsel from one of our pastors, who had known me for most of my life, asking specifically for assistance relative to my propensity to lust AND REVEALING MY SEXUAL IDENTITY ISSUES OPEN AND HONESTLY.  I did not want to abuse and distort anymore opportunities God had in store for me down the road, no matter the circumstances! 

As you can imagine, the plane ride back was the hardest part for me.  Satan had reason to celebrate on that fateful day.  Stupid Rob.

Where am I at today?  What if I were faced with the same circumstances?  How would I react? 

Where are you at today?  Has God put men in your life, for your benefit, that you find yourself playing out imagined scenarios with?  Are these scenarios built on lust?

If so, the next step to harvesting your sexual gratification is so very small, especially if you find yourself in a position where your new friend is also willing to play with the same fire that you are.  Know this:  Eventually God's protection and provision will cease to be, and he will turn both us over to our fleshly desires if we don't repent.

THERE'S NO BETTER DAY THAN TODAY TO ASK FOR HELP.  AND NO, EVERYONE ISN'T DOING IT.

Lagniappe