On Abstinence and Wet Dreams

‘God fix me, what’s wrong with me, why I’m I thinking of sex, half the time? can’t I forget sex exists till I’m married? I want to be a Christian, please help’.

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The day was bright again, Olawunmi cat walked into the office, the other women were not there anymore. He was looking at her. She sat, grazed his knee with her racy acrylic nails. ‘Tell me, how do you want it? I would give it to you’ she purred. He leaned forward; she kissed him sensuously, before walking to the edge of the glass designed table. She slithered down and went on all fours expertly unbuckling his belt. She found what she was looking for.

Her mouth snaked the tip of his penis in a quick brief stroke. He gasped; she paused, staring into his eyes. In a deadly calm voice, she asked ‘do I get the job. ‘Yes, Yes, Yes’ he affirmed thrice. Still, in the calm, deadly don’t mess with me tone; she commanded ‘Put it in writing’. She was in that zone where she controlled things where she had the power. He scribbled his word hurriedly on a piece of paper shaking as if she may change her mind. She took the paper and tucked into her pockets neatly. She bent down again, and swallowed all of him expertly, the tip of her tongue working magic.

The door burst open. WHAT the HELL? The Head of Customer Experience was screaming now, her face thrown into an apoplectic fit. Olawunmi could not seem to get her lips off, she was choking, and the face of the Head, Customer experience was choking her, the eyes were like vampires drawing out blood with the never-ending stare.

‘Oh no, something, anything at all swallow me already please’ she cried, she was choking now, coughing, thrashing, help! She tried to scream but could not. She woke up with a start, she was having a mild asthmatic attack, and she thrashed around looking for her inhaler. It was on the rug beside her half-finished bag of potato chips. She shook her inhaler and took a long puff. Thinking about the dream left her shuddering and gasping for breath. ‘It’s just a dream, you don’t have a spirit husband, you are not possessed breathe’ she said over and over again trying to sit still as the shudders enveloped her, betraying her mind’s yearning for peace. ‘Sigh, thank heavens it was a dream, what is wrong with you? What? Get a grip on yourself’. She conversed with herself.

‘Was this Jesus’s way of punishing her for her past life? ‘Pray!’ her sensible voice rang out. ‘I can’t pray’ she replied aloud as she lay back on her bed crying, puffing on her inhaler. The urge to pee overpowered her and she jerked up, her boxers scrounged up and wet from her wild sex nightmare, she raced to the bathroom. ‘God fix me, what’s wrong with me, why I’m I thinking of sex, half the time? can’t I forget sex exists till I’m married? I want to be a Christian, please help’. The Kegel exercises came naturally now, almost involuntary whenever she peed in the comfort of her bathroom. She couldn’t help herself as she enjoyed the orgasmic feeling that came with sitting on the toilet bowl and carrying out a most natural task.

Shaking her head vigorously was not helping; the thoughts of sex had enveloped her body. Tried as she may, to block out the dream she couldn’t. Now she felt disgusted thinking about it. Normal people don’t dream of sex, why did she have to be abnormal in everything. ‘My life is such a mess; I can’t even talk to a single soul about these things. If I do, they would conclude I need deliverance from a spirit husband. This is my cross and my cross alone’. ‘Why me though? Why?’ She bemoaned her current situation. ‘This Christianity journey was tough. ‘Maybe it wasn’t for her.

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Ever been in Olawunmi’s shoes? Share your story in the comment section below.

Responses

  1. G B
    Which young adult who grew up in a Christian home isn’t in Olawunmi’s shoes?! Horniness is killing you daily and someone is telling you to “keep your body under” or that “the body is not meant for sexual immorality, but for the Lord”, as if I’m giving myself these cravings. 😒
    Or putting these weird dreams, with an ever weirder cast in my every sleeping moment.
    And, unfortunately, carrying the sex act out doesn’t take the feelings away. It just makes them more nuanced. There’s extra guilt to deal with.

    I’m 29 now and it isn’t any easier. So I just have the sex I want, with whomever I want. Left with sex and masturbating, I’ll pick the ‘sin’ that’s more fun for me.

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