Lust sounds the most delicious of all the seven deadly sins.
Desire, passion, rock hard virility, carnal longing and lots and lots of sex, presumably.
What’s not to like?

It doesn’t have the piggish connotations of Gluttony, the grabbing of Greed, the delusions of Vanity or the sluggish loser feel of Sloth. Wrath is altogether out of control and Envy is just a miserable covetous sod.

Lust conjures visions of rampant desire, sex against the wall, sex in the backseat of a car, sex for breakfast, sex for tea with lots and lots of sex, sex and more sex in between. Which is totally hot if you’re both in it. (Unreciprocated lust with inappropriate outbursts in restaurants, unanswered phone calls, *10# and caller id, multitudinous unfulfilled masturbatory longings with gnashing and grinding of teeth in sheer sexual frustration is never good…)

Lust should not be confined to youth but it most reminds us of what it used to be.
Remember those looks across the room, the unabashed sexual longing in your eyes, that squirmy wriggling, hollow pit in your stomach, the cold sweaty wobbly feeling that wouldn’t go away until your hands were all over the object of your lust, or at least down in the aching wetness of your pants?
Who wants to forget the screaming sex, the hot panting breathless fucking that was never ever enough the first time and every minute in between was too long.
I can’t.
I’d grab it all back in a heartbeat.

So, hang on, why is it a sin?