“What would you do if you knew that the world, as we know it anyway, would come to an end the day after tomorrow?” Boring Loring said, pacing in front of the Tenth Grade English class. “Why the world would end is immaterial,” he continued in his sleep-inducing drone. “Perhaps an impending meteor strike, catastrophic plague or epidemic, or the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust. Let’s just assume that in two days we will all be toast. How would you spend your last day? What would you do even if there were no repercussions? Think about it and write an essay, due next Wednesday. Grading will be on style, spelling, and cohesiveness, and content, so use your imaginations and let’s see some creativity.” His speech was cut short by the merciful ringing of the bell.

My lack of writing ability probably makes it obvious that English was my least favorite class, and Mr. Loring was sure as hell my least favorite teacher. He demanded that we sit quietly at our desks at attention after the bell and wait for him to dismiss us for our next class. We sat there so long one day that the tardy bell rang and we were all late for our next classes. Asshole. I have forgotten a lot during the forty years since I was a high school kid, but I distinctly remember thinking that the assignment would be a piece of cake. How would any normal fifteen-year-old boy want to spend his last day? Praying in church? Holding hands with Mom and Dad? Fishing on a quiet lake with Granddad? Those things would be suitable for higher life forms, but I was a horny fifteen-year-old boy and I’d want to spend my last day alive fucking. Not just anyone, but someone I had lusted after for a long time. And not only that, but I wanted something else as well. I knew it wasn’t politically correct, as they might now say, but I decided to give the guy just what he’d asked for.

We had no such things as computers or word processors back then, and minor essays such as this were always done in longhand, and a lot of any essay’s grade was determined by handwriting and neatness instead of content. My handwriting was and still is terrible, so I decided to knock myself out on content and hope that would make up for my lousy penmanship and mediocre spelling. He’d said to be creative, and although I’ve forgotten what all I wrote, here’s the gist of it.

THE END OF THE WORLD By Rodney James

People like me who aren’t religious aren’t afraid of Armageddon. I’m not saying that I want to be dead, but if it’s going to happen anyway I may as well look at the bright side, and since I’m being given a choice I’d like to spend my last day alive having sex with one particular girl that I’ve been dreaming about for many years, Sandy Loring.

Not only that, but I want two other people to watch. The first is her father, Tom Loring, who just so happens to teach English at the high school that I attend. I had him as a teacher before, in the Sixth grade, and he has always done all that he could to make my life miserable. What makes it even worse is that he claims to be a friend of my parents and he always tell my mom every thing that I do in school as well as making sure that they know that I’m not working up to my full potential, whatever he thinks that might be.

I don’t know why he hates me but it is obvious that he does. He always picks on how I dress and has even sent me home once or twice to change clothes. He’ll go around the class asking questions, you know? He asks everyone else easy questions, the ones that I know the answer to, but he always saves the hard ones for me and then he makes me sound like an absolute bonehead for not knowing the answer. Things like that make me mad and I want to punish him for the misery he has caused me.

His punishment would be simple. I’d tie him up against the wall, cut his clothes away, and take a piece of haywire or something and tie a five gallon bucket tightly around his balls. Then Sandy and I’d go at it on the bed in front of him, and every now and then I’d stop for a minute and ask him some stupid and impossibly hard question about something or other, and when he gave the wrong answer I’d throw a big rock into the bucket. Eventually the bucket would get too heavy and his nuts would be pulled off.

Since he’s really religious he probably knows that he can’t get into heaven unless he has testicles. Serves him right.

The other person I want watching is Tony Loring, Sandy’s brother. He’s a year older than me. We used to play together when we were little kids and I liked him then, but as soon as he started getting hair he turned into a total butthead. We’d be messing around and he’d drop his pants and pull his cock and balls out and show off the hair around them and brag about how big they were. One day he insisted that I watch him jack off, and he even conned me into stroking him a few times. I was just a little kid then, and even though I thought it was kind if neat I knew it was wrong. Another time he wrestled me to the ground and got hold of my balls and said that he’d crush them if I didn’t lick his dick. I had to say I’d do it, but then as soon a he let loose of me to drop his pants I got up and ran off. The next morning my bicycle seat was all covered with dog doo. He denied knowing anything about it, but I know he did it.

He’s still really proud of his balls. He thinks they’re something special and he likes to make sure everyone in the locker room gets a good look at them. He claims to have had sex with a lot of girls, but I think he likes boys instead. I’d tie him to the wall right beside his dad, strip him down too, and then stretch a bunch of rubber bands around his nuts and then let him watch me screw his sister while his beautiful balls turn black and die.

Next I’d get naked and then peel Sandy’s clothes off and get right to the main event. I suppose she’d fight and struggle, but I’m bigger and stronger and getting her down on the bed shouldn’t be a problem, and then I’d poke the meat to her. I know how to do it; her mother taught me. Her mother? Yeap. Momma.

All of the Lorings think that they’re too good to do manual labor, so they hire me to mow their lawn in the summer while Tony and his dad do neat things like going to ball games or out to the lake fishing and water skiing. It was hot one day and I had my shirt off, and Mrs. Loring came out acting like a dog in heat. She took me into her bedroom and I banged her twice that day. The next time I mowed the lawn she gave me a blowjob. I had just started up the mower again when her husband got home. I just about peed my pants when I saw her give him a big wet kiss on the lips with the same mouth that I’d just dumped a load of jizz into. That was neat.

Anyway, I have this book at home that shows all of the ways that there all for a guy and a gal to have sex, and I would spend the last day of my life trying them all, pausing only to throw more rocks into Mr. Loring’s bucket, and maybe to put a few more rubber bands around Tony’s nut sack. Then I’d die happy.

THE END

I read it through again and knew that I should shit can it and write something else, but instead I took it to school and put it in the basket on Loring’s desk. He didn’t read it right away, and it wasn’t until the next morning that the shit hit the fan. I had stripped to dress for PE and had just pulled on my jock strap when the teacher came out of his office and told me that I was wanted in the Principal’s office “ASAP”. I asked if I should go as I was or finish dressing, and he gave me a dirty look and walked off, so I got back into my street clothes and went to meet my doom.

Mr. Loring was there and needless to say he was royally pissed. He waved the offending essay under my nose and wanted to know if it was some kind of sick joke, and wanted to know if I could think of any reason why I shouldn’t be expelled from school. I’m sure he would have castrated me and sent me to prison for the rest of my life too, had those options been available.

I pointed out that the spirit of the essay was to deal with a totally imaginary circumstance and that since the end of the World was only a fantasy, writing from the fantasy point of view should have been okay. The Principal agreed with me, in principle anyway, but also pointed out that Mr.Loring had every reason to be offended. He suspended me from school until he could sort things out.

My Mom was totally pissed off that I had written what she called pornographic lies about Mrs. Loring and informed me that I could be sued for libel. I stuck to my guns and told her everything I had written was true: Mrs. Loring had fucked the snot out of me, I liked it, and I would enjoy the opportunity of fucking her daughter, and that I had been wronged by both Tony and Mr. Loring. She went right over and had a heart to heart talk with Mrs. Loring, and then herded me into the car for the short drive to the High School, where she proceeded to ream both the Principal and Mr. Loring new assholes.

She started in by asking why a vulnerable teenager was required to write a doomsday essay, and then went right on into the legalities of suspending a student who complied with the requirement of writing the essay, and furthermore, she demanded that the essay be justly graded on it’s merits and the grade be entered on my record for the term. Whew.

I got reinstated but transferred to a different English class. I got a B- for the essay; there were numerous spelling and grammatical errors.

The whole Loring clan moved away just after the end of school that year. I didn’t know where and I didn’t care as long as they were out of my hair, but I’d still like to fuck Sandy.