Page 40 of His Reckless Freshman

“Huh.” I tilt my head as I read through the list of benefits.

So why was I taught that it’s so wrong?

Maybe because the church I was raised in equated masturbating to impure thoughts and therefore sexual sin.

Could that be it?

They never really explained it to me; they just said, “Don’t do it.” Honestly, they made me feel like it’s the worst thing in the world. Sex is only for marriage, only for reproductive purposes. People who enjoy sex or seek it out just for pleasure… well, that seemed like a naughty thing to do.

Did I just misinterpret everything?

Or is it time for me to figure some of this stuff out for myself?

I guess that’s what I was trying to do on Friday night.

What a backfire that turned out to be.

But maybe touching myself would be okay. I’d be in complete control, right?

Biting my lip, I glance at my bed and wonder if I should try it.

But what if Nylah comes back when I’m halfway through?

Glancing at the door to our en suite, I jump up before I can change my mind and quickly head into the bathroom. Locking the door behind me, I turn on the shower so if she does come home, she’ll assume I’m just washing myself.

My fingers are trembling as I unbutton my pants and slip them down my hips. This feels so scandalous for some reason, and I try to ignore that thought as I perch on the closed lid of the toilet seat and spread my legs.

I feel so exposed right now, but I remind myself that the door is locked and it’s okay to be exploring my body.

It’s healthy.

It’s good for me.

Licking the tip of my finger—I don’t even know why—I then reach down and feel around that area. I have no idea what I’m doing. All I know is that going inside isn’t pleasant, so I avoid that and just kind of touch around my opening.

Do I rub? Do I stroke? Fast? Slow? What am I supposed to do?

Just experiment. See what feels good.

I spend the next few minutes doing just that. I get a few flushing tingles but nothing long-lasting, and when my dorm room door pops open, I bail on this experiment.

Jumping up, I quickly pull my pants up. I’m still a little trembly, so I decide to just jump into the shower and rinse off. The space is filled with steam and I hate to think how much water I’ve wasted, so I only stay under the hot spray for like a minute.

Nylah won’t know. She’s only just got home.

Once I’m dried and redressed, I suck in a breath and walk back out to our shared room.

She’s sitting on her bed with her headphones on watching a movie. The second she spots me, a smile spreads across her face. She looks like she’s about to pull off her headphones and talk to me, so I quickly dart to my desk and start working on the article again.

And that’s where I stay, at my desk until after midnight.

Until I have written, read, edited, reread, edited some more, and refined my article to as close to perfection as I can get it.

The next morning, I force myself to the Nolan U Star office.

I went to the library and printed the article first, figuring whoever edits it for me will probably appreciate a paper copy. I know I prefer to edit from paper. I feel like you see things differently than you do on-screen.

Holding my breath, I enter the office space and am relieved to not see Kieran.