A Rainy Friday Night Lights

I am an American who grew up in an affluent suburb outside of Seattle that, despite those two descriptors, was really just a small mountain town. No coincidence that Twin Peaks was filmed 5 miles from my house. With one high school to route for, our community was a Friday Night Lights football town. I was a cheerleader in love with the fullback. After a Friday night game I found myself with him outside the gym. It had started to rain, but going inside to find cover meant we would have to separate through the boys and girls locker rooms. Every minute of sexual tension is a thrill when you're a teenager so we stayed outside the gym, still in our uniforms.

 The draw we felt for each other was so electric that we began to make out. The stands were empty, our respective teams were in the locker rooms and it was dark out--so we forgot about modesty. He reached his hands up my pleated cheer skirt and I unlaced his pants to pull out his cock. I leaned into the gym wall's abrasive concrete and circled my legs around his hips--my feet in white socks and sneakers crossed behind his back. With each thrust, I could smell the sweat from his shoulder pad pressed against my cheek. It felt so invigorating to be having sex outside, in our costumes of high-school Americana, under the drizzle of rain, with the possibility of being caught at any moment.