The Forbidden Lust
by YBLalat

“Assalamualaikumwarahmatullah” and with that he turned his head to one side.
“Assalamualaikumwarahmatullah” and with that to the other, and then he let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Astaghfirullah, I imagined them again”, he whispered to himself, and then another sigh ensued, but this time it was not of relief, but of deep regret.

He cupped both of his hands together, like a decrepit beggar wanting to receive from the upper hand that gives charity, and drew them close to the edge of his chin, and slowly but lightly, he started to rub and massage the coarse skin of his face from its bottom to top in small circles. As soon as the two of his hands reached the wide forehead, one immediately shaped itself into a hollowed fist and rammed itself against the front of his skull – banging a few times like a hammer to a Sunday morning church bell.

“Oh Allah, forgive me, but I can’t help myself.”

That was the second time today that he had imagined himself during his daily prayers the explicit images of young, prepubescent women dancing suggestively in their wet, semi-naked bikinis in front of his eyes. At the time of the day that he knew would be the most inappropriate and most sinful to think or fantasize about sex; those haunting images broke into a frenzy of erotic performances and literally danced for him the most enticing dance of the senses that he had ever seen. The more he resisted, the louder he recited the prayers, the more invigorated they danced, and the more real their hard, sweaty bodies became.

Just as he was about to recite the readings to his second rakaat, the image of a teasingly exposed cleavage of a 14 year-old girl dangled itself in front of his eyes, positioning its two perky peaks strategically a swift touch away from his chest. The girl grinned and smiled and twirled herself in front of him in a true stripper fashion, sometimes letting out the sounds of sigh and moan in between. She would then move away and come back to him from the rear, appearing and reappearing again and again, with each of her presence decorated with the changing sweet smell of her breath and the blowing of that into his ears and neck.

“Oh Allah, forgive me for watching those pictures.”

The night before, he entertained himself for hours and hours by watching the vast collected galleries of poster-size picture files of teenage girls, hardly of legal age and hardly of a mature woman’s full and blossomed physique, dressed up sexily and fashionably over the Internet. They may or may not be originally taken from the hundreds and thousands of pornographic sites available on the World Wide Web, and they may or may not be of a pay-per-view site or a free-for-all one, but all of them were of underage girls from all over the globe, and of various skin color, and of various suggestive poses too.

Some were the non-explicit and the non-threatening ones, like that of a famous Hollywood child celebrity walking down the red carpet for a movie premiere with a bright red leather dress hugging her flat chest, while some were that of forced child prostitute from illegal and underground porn sites based at the rural and lawless districts of former Soviet Eastern Europe nations. But those who are his best favorites, that he visited their websites religiously from day to day to check for updates of newer pictures, are that of the famous with age 13 to 15, the age of innocence. The Olsen twins – the stars of the TV family series, Charlotte - the Princess of Monaco and Alizee - the French teen pop sensation are to name a few.

Not a day passes by without the glimpse of their virgin lips inside his head.

“Oh Allah, forgive me for I am a weak man.”

He rearranged the folding of his two legs under his buttock and settled them into the posture of the bended knees and ran his two palms onto the outer thigh of his two legs and breathed in and out with both of his eyes closed. He lifted his chin up, facing the ceiling, and then immediately dropped them down again, facing his crotch. He did this once more and then another, and then proceeded with the cupping of his two hands again, but this time higher than before. This time they were adjacent to his two shoulders, with each stretched palm cupping independently. He prepared himself with a deep, clearing cough before saying his words of prayer.

“Oh Allah, I pray to You to help me with this sin. I pray to You to assist me in this fight. I pray to You to seek for Your divine forgiveness, and for Your heavenly mercy – protect me from the sins of the dirty eyes, the sins of the dirty hands, the sins of the dirty mind, and the sins of the opposite sex. Oh Allah, wholly to You do I rely my faith, my soul, my family and my well-being.”

At the end of the final sentence of the prayer, he let out a near-silent hum of a suppressed emotion. Gradually, he drew those two hands of his nearer to his face, and in doing so, slowly he opened his eyelids. His eyes wiggled about a bit before staring at the blank space between his cupped, praying hands and the white, bare walls in front of him. He stared hard at it for a while but he saw nothing. The pupils of his eyes oscillated between the sizes of a pea and a ball and thus, he lost his focus; his mind has ventured out again.

It is not my own doing, or my own created whims, that I am a mature, young man who is so sexually attracted to young, underage girls.

Voices that ringed true and logic to his cause echoed themselves clear to him.

Is it still a sin if my heart beats faster each time I see the curvaceous physique of a prepubescent young woman displayed intentionally and exclusively for me?

Doubts of guilt began circulating wildly inside his moral and ethical subconscious.

I am sexually attracted to them – that I can’t explain why and how. I can’t help myself from liking what I like most and I can’t stop my body from reacting the way that I acted; thus, why do I feel so wrong, so dirty and so sinful?

The two cupped, praying hands of his suddenly stopped midway.

Why should I feel guilty for enjoying something that is innate and natural to me to enjoy? Don’t those girls, as young as they may be, enjoy being enjoyed at?

His two hands that once acted to reach the Ears of Allah wavered lazily.

Just look at their smile! Just look at their willingness! They like being ogled at sexually! They loved being the submissive object of your fantasy! They do!

Then, silence prevailed – in his room and in his head, on his praying mat and on his consciousness. Emptiness came knocking by only a few moments later, as soon as the mind began to realize the unnatural state that it was in. His eyes twitched and his eyelids blinked. The muscles of his two dangling arms bit by bit began to sore. He looked around him and felt very awkward in that twisted posture that he was in. He unwound his entangled knees from the soft comfort of his buttock and released his two cupped arms to the embrace of his opened, fat-fleshed crotch. He felt so relaxed, and so at ease with himself.

He coughed a deep, clearing cough and smiled a sly, hypocrite’s smile.