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Not long ago - and with aforethought - I slept with a woman's husband. He, an upstanding man in his own church community, had contacted me for a massage. During our brief discussions by email and on the phone, I came to understand that he was looking for a bit more than just a massage. "I've never been with a man," he accidentally let slip out one time, "Ummm, I mean, you know - as in had a massage."

Next I did some online research before I agreed to meet with the man, as I do with most clients prior to meeting them. This research landed me a wealth of information, including some papers he had written for a right-wing Christian organization espousing family values and Christendom.

Armed with this information, I fished for more through emails to him and came to find that he had been married for about eight years. By his own admission, he and his wife were in the process of trying to have children. For some reason, this information spurred me on.

Before meeting with him, I had curious fantasies of the damage he could do to my technically illegal bodywork business (I am not certified to give massages). That he could potentially go through the session and then report me or blackmail me. Then again, I reasoned, I had his phone number - if need be - information I could use to defend myself.

His potentially evil side, the danger involved, and the fact that this seemed to be the Ultimate Sin (if not crime) fueled my desire to go through with his wishes. So, one balmy summer evening, I took a subway to the end of the line and found myself waiting for this gentleman to pick me up.

He turned out to be handsome, polite, funny to be around, and - for all intents and purposes - heterosexual. I did, however, bed him down, perform unspeakable acts upon him (most of which he gleefully participated in), and then - and here's the clincher - charged him exttra for my "full service."

The laws I broke that night were many, indeed. First, I helped him to break his marriage vows. Next, I went counter to my own sense of propriety and slept with the enemy -- a staunch, right-wing Christian who no doubt bad-mouthed gays. I'd also broken, yet again, the so-called Laws of Nature, participating in abominations against God. And, finally, I'm pretty sure I broke all the Virginia laws against pandering.

Naturally, any one of these might have made me feel guilty and afraid. Any two of them could cause me to lose sleep. Three of them broken and I might actually have been forced to go to a Priest, Shaman, or, dread!, to Church. But having broken all four of them?

Well, I found myself delighting in the exceedingly sinful nature of my ways.

When I was all done that evening, my pockets lined with a woman's husband's gold, I asked him to drive me home. I'm not sure whether it was guilt or buyer's remorse, but he agreed. And upon returning to my apartment, I got down on my knees and thanked God - Himself - for it all.

I thanked God for the distant wife, her obviously confused husband, my need for excitement (and cash), and for the willingness I had to take risks and to live a life worth writing about.

Ahhhh, the many legs of a stool called self-deceit. His, hers, mine and always.

-- 30 --

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Copyright © 2000 by Michael Walker

Michael Walker is a freelance writer in Washington, DC.  He is also the founder and proprietor of DREAMWalker Group.