The sense of relief after my interview was palpable. “Describe ways you take care of your physical, emotional and spiritual self” was the closest the committee came to any scrutiny of my personal life. Afterwards that almost ineffable sensation of acute arousal came over me. When I returned home, I looked over listings for call girls, then I booked a room in a hotel at the casino. Right after I checked in, I called Tina at the agency. She recommended “Kat.” Kat is new with the service, and Tina thought she might be compatible. I was intrigued. We made an arrangement for later that evening.
Then I began to wait. As my watch ticked, I couldn’t untangle my anxiety from my excitement. As the time approached for when I would hear the knock at the door, the anticipation grew almost unbearable.
Then finally I heard it.
I opened the door. Kat was everything Tina had promised. I let her in the room, admiring her athletic physique attired in a tight red dress. She sat down, and we chatted for a little while getting to know each other. Born and raised on the East Coast, she’s educated and well-traveled. “But there’s only so much books can teach you” she said coyly. I tried to behave like a gentleman, but my intentions were anything but gentlemanly. I notice the pendant dangling at the top of her cleavage. Little did my committee know this was how I was marking the successful completion of my interview. A former call girl observes, “Just the act of inviting a hooker over is like a little party in itself—a human ice cream cake, bought to provide a little treat.” This little treat sat next to me in stiletto heels.
“You’re a tough shell to crack,” she said. “Let’s see if I can make some progress.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out two condoms. Then she started to tug at my belt.
“I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”
She started to unbuckle my belt. My pants fell to my ankles. My boxer briefs bulged with my erection.
“Nice to see you could rise to the occasion,” she teased. Then she dropped to her knees….
The intensity of my lust had propelled me to this point. Sexual release is my remedy. Despite my supposed values, I’m driven to seek the satisfaction and relief that only comes from falling in sin. The moral schizophrenia produced by my prolific promiscuities is disorienting.
Tangled bodies. Sweat dripping onto bare skin. Rhythmic thrusts. Deep strokes. I could hear my crotch smack against the soft flesh of her ass. The intensity of sex obliterates my sense of self. Then came the sound of a loud grunt.
Lutheran Guilt 
WOW
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