How Jesus Heals Horny: The Book I Wish Had Been Given to Me

 Note from Author

How Jesus Heals Horny is the book I wish had been given to me when I was wandering around in New York City bars and porn theaters, searching for someone or something to make me stop hurting. I was a very promiscuous man. My friend Kevin summed it up well one day when he said, "Good Lord, Robert. I did the math, and I can safely say that only Rogaine has been on more men than you." Kevin has a way with words. The first chapter is titled "The Birth of a Human Toilet." You can figure out the rest. If you are easily offended by scenes of sexual addiction, fetishes, the Bible's stand on sexual immorality, or Jesus Christ, How Jesus Heals Horny will not be an easy read for you.

Description

Combining biblical truths and absurd humor, against an unapologetically sexual backdrop, How Jesus Heals Horny is a book for the sexually distressed, offering salt, light, and much needed humor to invite men trapped in the dark world of secret sexual sin into the Kingdom of God.

While the opening of How Jesus Heals Horny may contain content too mature for the young, inhibited, or sensitive reader, it becomes clear that Robert swallowed his pride and shared these scenes of sexual addictions and fetishes from his past to remind us that Jesus Christ specializes in freeing individuals who, by human standards, seem unsalvageable.

Although Robert does nothing to conceal his homosexual orientation, this book will minister to humans of any orientation, as well as provide compassion and perspective to all God’s children affected by sexual brokenness.

It is most challenging to categorize How Jesus Heals Horny into a specific genre. It could awkwardly sit on shelves alongside books classified as Christian, inspirational, self-help, recovery, memoirs, and humor, but would be the deviant on any shelf.

Read it.

About the Author 

Robert Santi resides in a small home in New Jersey, sharing it with a young Colombian family, three dogs, two guinea pigs, a cat, and a rabbit. The rabbit is mean to him. 

Robert earned a degree in humanities from Montclair State University, but he admits to being so distracted in his younger days by his sexual issues and loneliness that he did not pay much attention or learn a lot. He likes to mention that he has been working at the same Medical Center for almost 40 years, as it is the only testament to stability, mental or otherwise, that he has to share. 

In addition to writing, Robert enjoys dog parks, playing Scrabble on his iPad, listening to music by Bryann Trejo and Kathy Troccoli, as well as cozy dinners at local dives with his old friend"T."

Dedication 

This book is dedicated to my wonderful friend Kevin, who was amazed to discover himself as a main character in How Jesus Heals Horny. Upon reading it and seeing how he was portrayed, he said that the Kevin I wrote about is a made-up character and nothing at all like him. We disagree on this point. 

Consequently, Kevin is currently working on his new book called I Demand Equal Time! that he says,"will set the record straight once and for all." 

Kevin is a most able writer with an imagination so warped that he makes Stephen King seem like an author of children's stories. I am worried.

Title: How Jesus Heals Horny: The Book I Wish ...

Table of Contents 

The Birth Of A Human Toilet 

Robert Writes 

Honey 

Day Off 

Hey, Family Man 

To All The Girls I've Loved Before 

Kenny Visits A Porn Shop 

I'm Promiscuous, And It's All Your Fault 

My Straight Friend 

I Ain't Gay. 

The Conference 

God's Healing Love 

Miguel's Body 

Bickering With Kevin 

From Lockdown To Breakout 

Horny 

The Sex Addict's Gift 

A Dirt Sandwich 

It's An Abomination 

The Deconstruction Of Mr. Right

The Juanes Dream 

Touched By A Christian 

Training Vince 

Affirmed At Last 

Epilogue To How Jesus Heals Horny.

Special Thanks

If you are easily offended or triggered, do not read this book. 

Combining biblical truths and absurd humor, against an unapologetically sexual backdrop, How Jesus Heals Horny is a book for the sexually distressed, offering salt, light, and much needed humor to invite men trapped in the dark world of secret sexual sin into the Kingdom of God. 

While the opening of How Jesus Heals Horny may contain content too mature for the young, inhibited, or sensitive reader, it becomes clear that Robert swallowed his pride and shared these scenes of sexual addictions and fetishes from his past to remind us that Jesus specializes in freeing individuals who, by human standards, seem unsalvageable. 

Although Robert does nothing to conceal his homosexual orientation, this book will minister to humans of any orientation, as well as provide compassion and perspective to all God's children affected by sexual brokenness. 

It is most challenging to categorize How Jesus Heals Horny into a specific genre. It could awkwardly sit on shelves alongside books classified as Christian, inspirational, self-help, erotica, LGBTQ+, recovery, memoir, and humor, but would be the deviant on any shelf. 

Robert describes How Jesus Heals Horny as "the book I wish had been given to me when I was trapped in darkness, wandering around in New York City bars and porn theaters, searching for someone or something to make me stop hurting." 

Read it.

THE BIRTH OF A HUMAN TOILET 

It was a little past 8 o'clock in the evening on June 5, 1995, my twenty-eighth birthday. I had been in the adult video store since before noon. This was my first visit to such an establishment, and leaving felt difficult. What an amazing place! Men were openly and unashamedly performing acts that I had only fantasized about. There were video booths, all connected to each other, with windows and glory holes between them for viewing and "connecting"with each other. 

   I wanted in on the action, but one awful obstacle prevented me from joining; no one was expressing interest in me, and I understood why. I had a fat, voluptuous body with actual B-cup man-boobs, a receding hairline, and teeth so crooked that I had been given the nickname "can opener" in my teenage years. 

   Few people knew about my breasts. I am not sure if my parents even knew of them because I had dedicated a lot of time, effort, and criminal activity to concealing them. During my adolescent years, I used to steal money from my grandfather's wallet. I would use every penny of it to buy Johnson and Johnson's medical tape from the local pharmacy so I could tape down my breasts to minimize their appearance. I also wore thick jackets all year round so no one would see the outline of the tape through my shirts. In the summer months, I would tell people that I was "allergic to the sun" and needed to keep my body completely covered. 

   So, there I was on my birthday: a lonely, miserable man whose desire to be loved had evolved into a desperate and dangerous lifestyle. But I forgave myself. After all, I had endured a traumatic childhood since the age of twelve, with years of nightly anal penetration rape by the older cadets, while I was enrolled at a military school in Pennsylvania. The death of my father followed when I was thirteen. Then, my mother abandoned me at twenty-one when I told her I was gay. As the years passed, I came to accept the internal torment of being lonely and privately burning for a man's touch as normal parts of a normal life. 

   I had never shared any sort of romance, affection, or sex of my own volition. In my younger days, motivated by loneliness and peer pressure, I engaged in relationships with females, but they never evolved beyond a PG-13 rating. But now, at twenty-eight, my private fantasy world no longer tolerated being subdued. It demanded freedom. So, through reading erotic stories published in pornographic publications, I learned about adult video stores and what takes place behind the scenes. 

   Inside, whenever I caught a glimpse of an attractive guy, I would repeatedly find that the attraction was not mutual. Each rejection was damaging to my already bruised self-perception, and I was about to be pushed into a submissive desperation I had never known before.

   He was about twenty years old. My eyes followed him as he entered the video store, walked into Booth #11, and closed the door behind him. 

   Curiously, whenever another man had gone into a booth adjacent to his, they would exit within a minute or so. I was growing confused and very curious. This guy was really cute. He lured men into the adjoining booth, but he was not able to keep them interested. I did not understand it. He was a thin, handsome white guy with thick, wavy brown hair, and he had entered Booth #11 carrying a skateboard. I internally commented to myself, "Wow! An in-shape, handsome young athlete with a full head of hair. He has every quality that I lack. What a scrumptious human goodie bag. I want me some!" 

    But why did the other men reject him? Did he have traits similar to mine that were not immediately apparent? Did he have breasts he was hiding? A bad personality? Leviticus 18:22 tattooed across his abdomen? I had to check this out. I made a silent vow to myself, "If this guy has a deformity or something weird going on, I will still love him, and I will not turn away from him as the other men have done." 

    I entered the adjacent booth, squatted in front of the glory hole, peered into it, and saw him with his shirt off and pants down. He was a very trim guy who was bordering on scrawny, which was the opposite of me, so I was very drawn to him. He was squeezing the shaft of his soft penis. After making sure that he had my attention, he then released the grip on his penis for an eighth of a second, just long enough to allow for a quick squirt of urine to hit his side of the wall between us."Huh," I pondered,"Oh, I get it. I think he wants to pee in a guy's mouth or something. Eww, that's just gross!" 

    As my mind was analyzing the situation, my mouth moved closer to the glory hole, and I said, "Okay." I was simply unable to resist my hunger to connect with a man. In my broken psychological condition, there was also a medicinal association attached to his bodily fluids. They were snake oils (no pun intended) that promised to impart to me some of his masculinity, some of his physical beauty and some of his youth. "Maybe if a part of him becomes a part of me," I subconsciously deduced, "I will become more like him, and then someone might want to love me." 

   He pushed his abdomen flat against the booth's wall, inserted his penis through the glory hole, and into my mouth. He then began releasing his urine into me. A masculine guy was sharing himself with me! Alleluia! I was in a trance-like bliss. After about thirty seconds, he released all his urine into me. He then pulled back, bent down to the glory hole, and ordered, "Come over to my booth." 

   "Oh, wow," I thought."A man wants me. A man actually wants me!" 

    Once in his booth, I could smell the residue of Dr. Pepper on his breath as he commanded, "Kneel down and finish." I remember feebly responding ,"Yes, sir."  However, I remained frozen, standing within millimeters of his face, hoping that he might preemptively reward my obedience with a kiss. I was well into my late twenties at this point and had never been kissed by another man, and I yearned to experience it. 

    In the name of moving things along, he then secured his left hand on my head and unemotionally pushed me down on my knees to finish what we had started. I complied obediently, gave him my best effort and, shortly after, he groaned and released his semen into my mouth. 

    I was now in love with this young guy (no, really!), and I fully expected to leave the video store together, exchange numbers, and provide him with a lifetime of love and loyalty. I had just drunk his urine and swallowed his semen when no one else had wanted to. Surely, he would sense my dedication to him and view me as a "keeper." (When I think back to my state of mind then, it stuns me that I had been able to figure out, on my own, onto which end of the toothbrush to squeeze the Aim.) 

    The next words he spoke to me damaged my ego, murdered my superego, and turbocharged my id. 

   "Thanks, dude, you're an amazing toilet." 

    I replayed them in my mind, as I tried to make sense of them:"What? What does he mean? Toilet? He sees me as a...toilet?" 

    Frantically, before he could finish pulling up his boxers, I inserted my right index finger between his buttocks, hoping to secure some of his "man musk." I now understood that he would soon abandon me, but if I could raise my finger to my nose for the rest of the night, he would still be with me in a warped, deceptively symbolic way. I had learned this little maneuver from the older cadets in the military school many years prior. 

   As he fastened his belt buckle and reached for his backpack, I was still knelt before him with my arms securely wrapped around his legs and my face pressed firmly into his abdomen, silently begging him not to leave me. My eyes were closed tightly, trying to ignore the reality of the impending separation. 

   "Dude, I really gotta go," were his final, firmly spoken words to me before he jerked his body free from my embrace. I found myself softly uttering, "I love you. Please don't leave me." 

    As I was left kneeling on the floor, my eyes tightly shut, he walked out of the booth, out of the video store, and out of my reality. I felt myself starting to cry, but I quickly comforted myself by holding my right index finger directly under my nostrils and inhaling deeply to continue importing this man into myself. 

    I was brought back to the moment by the sound of a throat clearing and a pant zipper being opened in the adjoining booth. I lowered my right index finger and slowly reopened my eyes. I was still kneeling. There was a new penis poking through the glory hole in front of me. "Sure," I mused, "why not?" This was the beginning.