A short story

OCD is a funny thing, though far from funny is what it seems.

A broken emotional emergency response.

But we can live with the jerks at the door, if we can see them differently.

There is this guy at the place I work. He caught my eye when I noticed him, thought it was his sister I was interested in getting to know. He has soft rosey cheeks and he is nice and fit.

I once wanted to talk to him, with lust leading still.

I wanted to see if I could lead him into something that I once liked. Talking to him and asking him nice. I wanted to see him shirtless, and in underwear and I wanted to go further and touch him, and to pleasure him, to give him the physical pleasure that I wanted to have myself. I wanted to see his bare body, his naked skin, his tight tummy and pecs, his smooth legs and his penis and testicles I wanted to see them and to touch them and to feel them as I played with them. I wanted to feel him twitch and moan from my pleasuring him. I wanted to make him want me to touch him more and to not stop. But I probably would've lost it all if I went on that walk. The lust of his flesh and desire that might make me want to feel him around my penis as and to feel his body against mine and have gone further than I know I should've but God stopped me from being tempted more than I could hear.

He gave me a way out. And he helped me leave my lust for him behind. And to start addressing my OCD. And to know that I even have it. Is a blessing indeed.

Thought of seeing him and others still come, and I might imaging how his penis and testicles look when now one is around, but it isn't what I really want, though it is still a struggle at times. Though none but God knows the depth of my thoughts and hearts and the things I think, but I know that I am Righteous no matter what I think. And I am learning that it is Grace that I am under no longer the law, and I want to please my Father in heaven and grow in his Grace. And I thank you God for that Grace.