I discovered sin at fifteen. I discovered sin in its most beautifully tempting way. I discovered sin in her cold fingertips on my waist and the daily growing desire. I discovered sin in the sound of her kisses on my back and the rhythm of my heavy breathing. I discovered sin in a way that leaves me questioning whether this is truly sinning... I discovered sin in passion, in lust, in desire, in forbidden places on my body and hers. I discovered sin in the insanity that takes control over me as soon as her lips touch my neck. We drank sin off each others' bodies and it tasted like heaven to me; God, forgive me. I don't want to stop. I don't want the madness that her touch causes to stop. Oh, but I am fully aware that the sweet burning spots her lips grazed on my skin will turn into my whole body burning in hellfire, but goddamn it, how I love it. Sin, oh, sin; what a beautiful illusion you are. Tell me, why do all the bad things feel so good? Why do the most evil of creatures look so charming? Her hands on my thighs fit like keys in their keyholes; how come I ache for her touch but not for a prayer?! Her fingers around my neck will end up choking me, the taste of her lips will end up drowning me, the bruises on my chest will end up killing me... And I am aware of the coming agony, but Lord, I don't want it to stop: I'm too in love with this sin.
