I hadn’t told Jeremy that I was trying out because I was nervous and didn’t want him to be disappointed if I didn’t make it. Failure wasn’t something I was used to, and I didn’t want to be pitied if I wasn’t on the list of names at the end of the week. So that’s why he was my first stop after the results were posted. It’d been nearly a week since we’d been able to hang out for more than an hour after school, and I missed him. I couldn’t wait to see him, and as I opened his front door and raced down the hall, nervous butterflies swirled in my stomach.

“I made it!” I shouted, throwing his door open and barreling into his room. In my haste, I almost missed the fact that Jeremy’s shorts were pushed down, his penis was out and on full display, and he was stroking it.

I almost missed it.

My feet immediately stopped moving as I stared at him lying on the bed…pleasuring himself.

Oh. My. God.

There it was. His penis in all its brilliant glory. His large hand was gripping it tight, moving up and down in a long, quick pulls.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

I wondered for a quick second if he wasn’t doing it too fast, but then a grimace formed on his face and he emitted a low moan. His eyes were closed tight as he moved his fist faster, faster, faster.

Clarence Carter’s “Strokin’” came to mind, and I slapped my hand over my mouth as my eyes widened. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. It was like his penis was a magnet and my eyes were the metal. I was transfixed. I was mesmerized. I was drawn to watching this act, one I’d never seen before. Hell, I’d never even seen a penis before. And, suddenly, my interest level skyrocketed.

I took a step farther into the room, wanting to get a good look. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice the gym bag in the doorway until I was tripping over it.

“SIERRA!”

Jeremy’s frantic shriek snapped me out of my trance, just as his…stroking was coming to fruition. Apparently, in his…umm…throes of ecstasy, it’d taken a moment to register that I was there. Not that it deterred him from what he was doing.

He apparently couldn’t stop himself, and I couldn’t stop watching.

Oh. My. God.

I mean, I’d heard about this in health class, and Ryan—the self-proclaimed class perv—joked about jacking off all the time, but actually seeing it in person was fascinating.

It wasn’t quite like I’d imagined. To me, I’d always had this picture of Old Faithful erupting and shooting straight up out of the tip, gushing and drenching everything in its path. But this wasn’t like that. It didn’t shoot fast, but it also wasn’t a dribble. It was a couple of quick spirts and penis twitches. The white substance appeared thicker than I’d thought it would. It was weird to think that millions of tiny sperm were swimming in that little bit of…stuff.

Once again, I wanted a closer look, so I took another step into the room.

And then Jeremy shouted my name again.

I stopped in my tracks after I’d realized what I’d done. My eyes—sadly—left his now deflating member and whipped up to his face, where I was greeted with a contorted, conflicted mask of pleasure and mortification. That’s when the reality that I’d just seen Jeremy get off finally set in. And I…

I wanted to watch again.

Mortified couldn’t even begin to describe what I was feeling at that moment. God, had I really just stood in the doorway and watched while he’d done that? I shook my head and blinked a couple of times, hoping to wake up.

No such luck.

I wasn’t in a dream. I wasn’t in some alternate reality. I was still in Jeremy’s bedroom. I had just walked in on my best friend jacking off, and instead of quietly closing the door and coming back later, I’d watched.

And I’d liked it.

My cheeks flamed at the thought. A fluttering took hold in my belly, and I had the sudden urge to squeeze my thighs together, wanting to relieve some of the unexpected tingling that’d snuck up on me.

Holy hell. I was turned on.

“Sierra,” he repeated. This time, it wasn’t a scream. It was a panted plea.

But what was the plea? Did he want me to come closer? Or put as much distance between us as possible? Part of me wanted to meet him on the bed, where I could explore his body. The other part of me knew I had to get out of there.

So I turned and ran out of his room like a bat out of Hell was chasing me.

His dad called out a greeting from the living room, but I was too freaked out to respond. In fact, I scurried out the front door, down the steps, and past my own house. I didn’t stop running until I’d made it to the gazebo overlooking the water. Bending over as my side cramped, I sucked in deep breaths and tried to get the vision of Jeremy’s man parts out of my brain.

But I was failing. It was all I could see. It wasn’t even just the sight of his penis that turned me on. It was watching him in the act. The performance I’d just witnessed? It was incredible. Now, I was breathless for another reason.

I wanted to go back and observe repeatedly, this time with a close up view. Perhaps with some audience participation.

The thought caused my cheeks to flush. With heat or embarrassment, I wasn’t actually sure. But the truth was I was both aroused and mortified.

I wanted to move far away and never see his face again.

It was confliction at its finest.

I had no idea how long I stared out at the water, replaying the scenario over and over and over. It could’ve been hours. It could’ve been mere minutes. Either way, I still wasn’t ready to face him when he cleared his throat behind me. I didn’t know if I’d ever be. So I froze, sitting as still as a statue, acting as if he couldn’t see me. Waves of emotions poured over me. Humiliation. Avid curiosity. That damned arousal. A strange fear also set in, but later, I’d understand that as a primal urge.

“Sierra.” His soft voice called to me, almost sounding pained.

As much as I wanted to pretend I couldn’t hear him, the whisper of my name on his lips forced me to turn around. I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face when I saw that he was dressed. Then I shimmied my hips, figuring humor was the best way to deal with this…situation. The last thing I wanted was for things to be weird between us just because we’d finally gotten to the age where knocking was a must before bursting into each other’s rooms. And even more so, I didn’t want Jeremy to realize I was flustered from having seen him in that state. Or that I wanted a second peek.

He leaned against a wooden pole, watching me with cautious eyes. Even still, his eyes weren’t meeting mine. It was clear he didn’t know what to say. Neither did I, short of asking if I could see it again.

Then I knew exactly what to do to break the silence. A not-so-sexy rendition of “Strokin’” left my lips.

At first, he didn’t look amused, but once I started singing about the directions in which I’d stroke (or the ones in which I’d like to watch him stroke), his lips twitched and curved into a smile he couldn’t fight anymore. First to the east. Then to the west. I nearly faltered over the line of who I’d stroke it to. But somehow, I pushed through, even though a tingle started between my thighs at the thought of Jeremy stroking it to me. I knew better, but it didn’t make me want him any less.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny, Sullivan,” he grumbled, stalking towards me.

There it was again. Sullivan. It was the proverbial cold shower I’d needed to extinguish my arousal. At least, it was until he placed his hands on my hips to still my movements. The image of where those hands had just been ignited my desire and brought it to new heights.

“This is how it’s done.”

He released me from his hold and stepped back into the middle of the gazebo. As he broke out into a much better version of the song, I had a hard time containing my giggles. By the time he was done, I was doubled over, laughing harder than the situation warranted, but I couldn’t help myself. When I calmed down, I stood up straight, and he was watching me with his arms folded across his chest.