Latex

He heard that you weren't supposed to tear the condom wrapper with your teeth. He heard that you weren't supposed to keep it in your wallet. He heard that you weren't supposed to use it within a month of expiration. He heard you weren't supposed to double them up. He heard that you weren't supposed to leave the condom on after you came. He heard that you weren't supposed to use it with lubrication. He heard that you weren't supposed to pull it off until you were done. He heard you weren't supposed to keep it in a place too warm...or too cold.

So he held it in his hand, flat against his palm. His hand was outstretched as if he were carrying a plate of food to the dinner table. It was well balanced. It was secure. He had his older brother buy it earlier that day, so as far as he was concerned, it fit all the conditions. "Though, he thought to himself, how safe could it be if it has so many stipulations". It was a fleeting thought as the rest of his mind was focused on when exactly to ring the doorbell.

It was 7:30 in the evening. Her parents were out of town until the morning.

The one fact in the forefront of his mind was that once his finger pressed the doorbell button in front of him, he was going to lose his virginity. This was fact. This was truth. It had been all but written into law that this was going to happen. She had all but told him directly that she was going to make him a man. All plans were set and all lights were a go. "Before the end of the night", he kept reminding himself, "my penis would have been inside of a vagina".

He just had to push the doorbell.

Though his body was frozen, his mind was not, as he tried to figure out his script. His mind wrapped around the notions of whose clothes come off first, would it be proper etiquette to ask permission, is it appropriate to snuggle afterwards, would there be a break for food, how long is too long, how short is too quick, what the hell foreplay consisted of, was there a game involved, should one exercise beforehand, and whether or not to kiss. His penis was throbbing and his heart was pounding. He could hardly distinguish the two.

And then, with no warning or thought, with no hesitation or prolonging, with no startle or pause, he leaned forward with his non-condom-holding hand, and pressed the doorbell. His entire being seemed to stare at his hand in disbelief, jaw-dropped and awed as to the utter audacity to make such a decision without the rest of the body. The nerve! The disrespect! The door! It's opening!

The condom-hand thought just as quickly as it jammed the un-opened rubber into his pocket. His penis almost tore through his denim jeans. His forehead accumulated a healthy layer of sweat. His throat ran dry. But he let on to none of this, and his face stood cool in the dim breeze of the Spring air.

She stood in the doorway wearing only a light-yellow tshirt, and a smile.