Page 11 of Romance Languages

“So, I suppose Mrs. Stockman was going to demonstrate how to put this on?” I asked, my eyes cutting to Avery for support.

She nodded yes.

“Putting on a condom correctly is important to it functioning properly. If the condom breaks, then it’s useless.”

I was holding a condom. Was my hand shaking? I looked at the circular piece of rubber, I realized that in addition to never owning a box of condoms, I’d never put one on. Not even out of curiosity. Mrs. Stockman had been teaching this class for years. She could probably roll it on in her sleep.

“Okay, well the next step is for me to demonstrate, to ensure that you’re doing this correctly.”

“I always do it correctly,” said the Front Row Menace with a sneering chuckle. I couldn’t be mad at him. I was too relieved that he actually used condoms.

“That’s great that you care so much about safe sex!” I said earnestly, yet my students thought I was joking. He turned bright red.

The condom shook in my hand as I ripped open the packaging. I tried to roll it down the demo dick, because that was what condoms were supposed to do. They rolled. This condom did not roll.

“Sometimes they can get stuck.” I exerted more force. “Some come pre-lubricated. Others don’t. You should check before you buy. It’s worth it to spend the extra money for lubrication.”

The rubber of the condom made a high-pitched squeak against the plastic of the dick. Every guy in the class clamped their legs together.

“Oops.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Technical difficulties.”

“What about leaving some space at the tip?” Front Row Menace watched on, amused.

“Some…space.”

“Yeah. When you blow, you need somewhere for it to go,” he said to guffaws from his classmates.

“The proper term is ejaculate,” I said.

The condom was pushed flush against the head of the demo dick, wrapping it tight like a sausage.

“Right. Yes. You should leave some space at the top for collection,” I said, pulling up the condom slightly. I continued to try and push the rest of it down, causing another squeak of rubber on plastic.

“I think the plastic of the model is causing some issues.” I grabbed the sides of the condom and pulled down as hard as I could.

It split in two. Pieces tumbled down the shaft like a sad, deflated balloon.

“I think we all just got pregnant,” Front Row Menace deadpanned.

“That’s why…” I started, but the laughter and murmurs were drowning me out. “Excuse me,” I said, finding my teacher voice. Being a teacher meant living in a constant power struggle that you could never relinquish. “That’s why you always want to make sure you have extra condoms. If the first one breaks, you want to have back ups.”

I ripped open another condom and this time, made sure to leave space at the top. I wrapped my fist around the shaft and tried pulling the condom down again. Again, it got stuck. More laughter came from the students, and when I followed their eyes, I discovered my fist was twisting and moving up and down to hold the model steady.

I was jerking off the demo dick.

I yanked my fist away. I could feel the red take over my face.

“Do you two need a room?” asked the guy behind Front Row Menace, who then held his hand up. Without turning around, Front Row Menace gave him a high-five.

How did guys put these on so easily? How did they stay hard while figuring out how to put these on? Maybe they didn’t and this was why unplanned pregnancies happened. Guys just gave up.

Front Row Menace hopped up and joined me behind the desk. “Mr. Bradford, let me help you out.”

I thought this was going to lead to some devastating prank, but Front Row Menace refused to live up to his nickname. He grabbed a condom packet, ripped it open, applied the condom to the dick, and rolled it down with such delicate ease I thought I was watching Picasso paint a masterpiece.

“Getting over the head is the tricky part. Fellas, you gotta fight through the weirdness. Then you roll it down,” he said.

“Thanks?” I said, equal parts humiliated and gobsmacked.

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