I was raised in the Baptist church and shouldn't harbor these evil thoughts about other men.

Every Sunday I sat in those hard wooden pews, listening to sermons about sin, temptation, and how lusting after the same sex would send me straight to hell. The pastor would pound the pulpit, quoting Leviticus and Romans, while I nodded along like a good boy. But the moment I got home or back in my room, my mind would betray me.

I'd think about the way the youth pastor's shirt stretched across his chest during basketball games, or how the deacon's son looked in his tight jeans when he bent over to tie his shoes. At night I'd lie in bed, hand under the covers, imagining what it would feel like to kiss another guy, to feel rough hands instead of soft ones, to drop to my knees and take a cock in my mouth. The guilt would hit right after I came—hot, heavy shame that made me pray for forgiveness while my dick was still twitching.

I know it's "evil." I know the Bible says it's an abomination. But no amount of prayer or repentance meetings has ever stopped the thoughts from coming back stronger. Sometimes during worship I'd get hard just from the deep voices singing hymns, and I'd have to hide it with my Bible in my lap.

I'm still fighting it... or at least pretending to. Deep down I wonder how long I can keep pretending before I finally give in.

What kind of "evil thoughts" do you fight with?