Congratulations on Losing Your Virginity During that Tornado!

When the alarm sounds you’ll be in detention.  That means there will only be you, Naomi and Mr. Gonclin to sit and stare at one another, horrified, as you try to figure out how to evade the impending storm.  You’ll be the first to remember that the school has a tornado cellar, stocked with water, blankets: “All the comforts of home,” you’ll say with a confidence that you’ll wish you’d had days earlier when Naomi asked you if you “were a faggot” and you responded by pulling her hair as hard as you could.

Unfortunately, this will remind Mr. Gonclin about the existence of his ferrets.

“My ferrets are at home!” he’ll shout before throwing the key to you and driving back to his home at full speed to rescue his ferrets.  Gonclin will, of course, die horribly in the impending storm, but his ferrets, having hidden themselves in a series of tubes where the storm would never think to look, will be fine.

This will leave you and Naomi together, staring at one another in detention.

“This sucks,” she’ll say with a flip of her hair.

“Yep,” you’ll shoot back, opening the door to the school’s storm shelter and holding it open for her.  She’ll pass through without thanking you and then you’ll follow behind her. The two of you will then make yourselves comfortable underground.  You’ll get water for her, find some crackers and some cheese in a tube, and put a blanket on the stone floor for her to sit on.

“You’re a pretty nice guy,” she’ll mumble at you from under her bangs.

“Thanks, I guess,” you’ll mumble back around a mouthful of crackers.  She’ll smile and watch you chew the crackers patiently before pouncing on you quite literally, hurling her body at yours like a bullet and pinning you to the ground where she’ll savage you with her lips.

In minutes she’ll have your pants off, her top off, her pants off, your top off, in that order.  The shelter, despite being stocked with most amenities, will be located in the basement of an abstinence only sex-ed school, so there will be no condoms.  The sex that ensues will be sudden, violent, and unprotected: a slippery, pleasant, hasty, too-hot series of smacking sounds and brief wonder by the light of an electric lantern.

“That was your first time, wasn’t it?” she’ll mumble with her hand on your chest after you’re done.

You’ll nod blankly.

“Not mine,” she’ll reply, curling her leg around yours and letting a laugh trickle out from her throat.  “I know you’re not a fag now, right?”

You’ll laugh in response and awkwardly curl your body around hers in a manner that you hope approximates affection.

She’ll let you rest, but not forever.  The storm will last a long while, and Naomi, broken or whole or some measure between the two, won’t want for ideas of how to pass the time with you in that storm shelter.

Congratulations on Losing Your Virginity During that Tornado!