Unprotected 6 Read online

  Unprotected

  Volume 6

  (5 Book Taboo Fertile Mega Bundle)

  by

  Freya Kane

  Copyright Freya Kane

  Unprotected – Volume 6

  Book Design by Freya Kane

  Cover Image Copyright 2018 © serav - Fotolia.com,

  used under a Standard Attribution License.

  ***All characters are over 18 and fictional***

  Scroll to the end for a

  FREE BONUS STORY

  as an extra gift to my readers!

  Enjoy!

  -Freya-

  Practice Makes Pregnant

  by

  Freya Kane

  No one’s happy when their best friend get divorced, and I was no exception. I wasn’t happy.

  I was fucking ecstatic.

  Of course, my situation was different than most. I had been friends with Trent since I was thirteen, and from the very first moment he walked into my life I’d had a ridiculous crush on him.

  I had always been too shy to do anything about it. The ladies loved Trent, so more often than not he had someone on his arm, and I was relegated to just being the best friend.

  Trent surprised us all by getting married right after high school to an older woman. He was absolutely enamored with her, and, at least at first, it seemed mutual.

  As the time went on it became more and more obvious that the honeymoon period didn’t last long. Trent complained about spending more nights sleeping in the guest room than in his own bedroom, and I’d even overheard a few furtive conversations where they whisper-yelled at each other, Trent throwing out words like “prude” and “cold fish” while his wife hissed back “oversexed” and “pervert.”

  Needless to say, things weren’t happy around his house.

  Despite it all, Trent and I had a great relationship, and his wife never tried to come between us. I quickly realized that it wasn’t a lack of jealousy. She just didn’t care as long as she had a hot young guy on her arm.

  My junior year had just ended, and when I showed up back at my house, my car stuffed with the contents of my dorm room, I drove past Trent loading up a small moving van.

  “Trent?” I shrieked, “Where are you going?”

  Trent smiled, though his blue eyes looked sad, shoving the last cardboard box inside and pulling the van door closed before turning to me.

  “It’s finally over. The two of us should have called it quits ages ago, but you know how Clare hates anything that upsets her schedule.” Disdain dripped from his lips at the last word. Clare had always been someone who scheduled every minute of her life, and I had no doubt that extended all the way down to sex.

  Trent shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sofia, I know I shouldn’t dump all this on you with no warning. I would have told you sooner, but I didn’t want to upset you during finals.”

  I felt the familiar rush of heat flood me and how considerate Trent had been. Even during a stressful situation like this he still thought of me first.

  “Where are you moving to?” I asked, hating the idea of him having to stay in some lonely apartment.

  “I found an apartment pretty close to school actually.” I brightened instantly at the idea of having him so close, but the thought of having to go without him for a whole summer while I lived at home had the next few months looking grim. Trent didn’t seem to notice my rollercoaster mood as he finished loading a few smaller boxes on the front seat of the moving van. “Most of the one bedrooms were already snapped up, so I ended up with a two bedroom. Not really sure what I’ll do with the extra space.”

  “I could move in,” I blurted out.

  Trent's head snapped up. "Are you sure?" he asked, shocked. "I'd never ask you to do that on such short notice."

  “I know you wouldn’t, Trent,” I said, trying to think about anything other than the throbbing between my legs. “But I’m definitely getting sick of living with the parents, and I’d love to live closer to the school this summer. Plus it has to be cheaper than the dorms.” I paused before adding, “And if I don’t come, who will take care of you?”

  Trent pulled me into a tight hug that lingered just a bit longer than necessary. “Guess I have a new roommate then!”

  ***

  I was so screwed.

  Living with Trent and hiding my crush had been difficult enough when things like marriage and space kept us apart. But now that he was divorced and we were sharing an apartment, all I could think about was how badly I wanted Trent to fuck me.

  We were taking a break from unpacking. Trent had brought out a six pack of beer, and I was sipping one. “I’m not going to pretend you didn’t go to any parties just because you aren’t 21 for another two weeks,” Trent said with a laugh. “A couple beers certainly won’t hurt.”

  I don’t know if it was the warm day and the beer or the sudden freedom, but I decided that now was the time to bring up something I’d been wondering about.

  “You broke up because of sex, didn’t you?”

  Trent opened his mouth to protest before closing it and nodding his head. “That wasn’t the only reason, but it was a big one. I’m a very sexual guy, and she just. . . wasn’t. She wouldn’t let me fuck her for weeks, and then when she’d catch me jerking off to a video to relieve some tension, she’d call me a pervert. It got old.”

  I nodded my head, the beer giving me an excuse of lowered inhibitions. “I understand. Some people are weird like that. I think my Mom and I really stopped seeing eye to eye when she found out I was having sex. I just like it!” The air in the room suddenly seemed charged, and I was acutely aware of my nipples poking out of the thin tank top I was wearing.

  Trent coughed, and I could see him fighting to keep from staring at my breasts. Between my legs, my pussy was already wet and pulsing.

  “We should finish unpacking,” he said, jumping up and changing the subject quickly. A few minutes later, we were back to unpacking dishes, the heat simmering between us pushed aside.

  We managed to get everything unpacked, but since all my furniture was still back at the house, we only had one bed. “I can sleep on the couch tonight,” Trent said, insisting when I tried to protest. Begrudgingly, I agreed.

  I ended up tossing and turning for half the night, half-dreaming, half-fantasizing about the fact that I was finally in Trent’s bed. My pussy was a slick slit of aching need between my legs, reminding me every time I moved how badly I wanted to feel Trent’s cock slide in between them.

  My hand was just starting to creep underneath the waistband of the shorts I wore to sleep in when I heard a noise from the living room. I froze for an instant before desire overrode any curiousness. My fingers had just brushed the edge of my soaked panties when I heard the noise again.

  I could see light filtering faintly under my closed door, and I crept out of bed and pulled the door open slowly. With the door open the low noise I heard was a bit louder. A loud feminine moan filled the air. “That’s right, baby!” the voice said. I took a cautious step closer, still hidden in the shadows of the hallway. When I was close enough to see into the living room, the sight that greeted me had me flooding my already wet panties.

  The light in the room was the glow from Trent's laptop screen. The audio was low, but I could still hear the busty blonde girl on the screen moaning over and over as she pumped her fingers in and out of her shaved pussy.

  Trent was sitting on the couch, staring enraptured at the girl on the screen. His boxers were down around his knees, and his cock was in his hand.

  And what a cock it was! All I could think about was how crazy his wife had been to let him get away. Easily eight inches and incredibly thick, Trent had the kind of cock that would stretch all the right places.

  Without even
realizing it, my hands had crept inside my panties. My lower lips parted easily, the slippery skin eager for any kind of touch.

  Then something clicked in my half-asleep brain.

  The video.

  The girl wasn’t just your generic porn star moaning about how much she liked big dicks and how wet her pussy was. Underneath all the caked on makeup, she looked a lot like I did.

  I stood frozen, hidden in the dark hallway. I could stay here, watch Trent jack off and masturbate myself, fingering my pussy in the shadows while wishing the hand between my legs was his.

  Or I could be brave, risk it all, and maybe get us both what we really wanted.

  My legs were shaking as I took those last steps out into the light. I told myself it was because of how aroused I was, but I was still desperately afraid that I was about to ruin everything Trent and I had.

  “Sofia!” Trent yelped. He slammed the laptop closed, cutting off the girl mid-moan, but there was no hiding his erection. It stood up proudly, curving against his bare stomach, the end already wet with pre-come.

  “I can’t imagine letting a cock like that go to waste,” I purred.

  The dreamlike feeling of the night made us both bold. Trent smirked, his hand wrapping back around his length and stroking it lazily. “I wish more women thought like you.”

  “I’d fuck it whenever I had the chance,” I said, not taking my eyes off his massive member. “I’d just climb on and ride it. I’d be so wet that it would slip in so easily.” I pulled my tank top over my head, baring my perfect, round breasts, my nipples hard as bullets in the air-conditioned room.

  “No condoms either. I wouldn’t want to feel anything but your skin. You can pull out. . . or you can come in me. I don’t even care if you get me pregnant. I just want to keep riding that cock.”

  Trent's hand had gone still on his cock. I saw him tighten his grip on the base, holding back even as his hips bucked upwards. "How wet are you?"

  “Why don’t you see for yourself.”

  I pushed my shorts and panties down and kicked them away before taking the last step. I was standing between Trent’s spread legs. He let go of his cock and traced the seam of my pussy with his knuckle, splitting me open like an overripe peach, filling the air with the scent of my musk as my juices dripped over his hand.

  “So wet,” he moaned, gliding his fingers against my cleft but not doing anything more, drawing me deeper and deeper into that state of abject want that made all the rules just fly out of the window.

  Then all at once, he pushed a finger in, and my knees buckled.

  “Oh fuck,” I groaned. Trent chuckled as he pushed the digit deeper inside me, his thumb sliding over my clit is soft, teasing strokes that did more to frustrate me than bring me to completion.

  “Trent,” I sobbed, reaching for him and begging him to pull me closer, to spread me apart and fuck me the way I’d been fantasizing about for years.

  Instead, Trent kept one hand on my hip, holding me back as he slipped his finger out of me. Shiny with my juices, he sucked it clean with the attention of a foodie at their very favorite restaurant, his eyes fluttering shut for just an instant as he savored his first taste of me on his tongue.

  “Delicious,” he growled, and then the fingers were back. This time two of them eased into me, widening and stretching my inner walls. I rocked my hips against his hand, trying to force him into a faster pace, but Trent still held me back.

  His hand crept upward, trailing soft touches up my ribcage to reach my breast, his large hand palming the aching globe. He cupped it, thumbing the peaked nipple, and I was way past begging at this point. Every touch felt incredible, but it was still teasing and playing. It wasn’t enough.

  I pushed against him, trying to draw him in the direction of the bedroom or at least the couch. At this point, I would have settled for the kitchen floor.

  Trent didn’t budge an inch. Pushing against him was like fighting with a mountain. “What do you want?” he whispered into my hair. “Anything you want, just ask for it.”

  “You know exactly what I want, Trent.” I couldn’t explain the sudden shyness that flooded me. Naked and trembling, somehow speaking the words out loud into the darkness of the room when it wasn’t just idle flirtation and my attempt at seduction made it real.

  I wasn’t just playing anymore, lustfully staring at Trent from darkened hallways and wanting. I was asking him- telling him to fuck me.

  But I was kidding myself if I thought there was any backing out now. Even if I walked away and we tried to blame it on raging hormones and our new living situation, there's no way our relationship could ever go back to what it had been. Not when Trent knew the taste of my pussy, and I knew how his fingers felt pressing inside me.

  And I didn’t want to back out. Not even the littlest bit.

  "Fuck me," I said, my voice clear and loud in the quiet room. Almost as an afterthought, I added, "Trent."

  Trent groaned, and between his legs, I saw his cock twitch, his erection still standing up proudly like a telephone pole. I was wetter than a rainstorm, soaking his hand as he fucked me with his fingers, my thighs slick, and Trent’s thumb slid over my clit.

  The faint little touches gave way to something firmer, pressing the pad of this thumb over the hard little bundle of nerves, every touch feeling like lightning radiating out from my pussy. I expected him to back off again, to keep teasing and taunting me with the promise of orgasm until I went crazy.

  Instead, he doubled down on the pressure and my knees gave out as I came, my pussy clenching around those two fingers, still pumping inside me, giving me a taste of what was next.

  Trent’s free hand swooped down under my ass, keeping me from falling as pleasure turned my muscles to jelly. He scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom, his hand between my legs never pausing as he stroked me through my first orgasm of the night.

  He sat me down gently on the king sized bed we spent an hour wrestling with in the stairwell. He fingers left me, and I whimpered at how empty I felt without them inside me. Far from being satisfied, all that first orgasm did was make me desperate and hungry for more. I wanted his mouth and his tongue. I wanted his cock.

  I wanted Trent.

  He knelt on the edge of the bed, the dim light filtering in from the streetlights leaving his face half in shadow.

  “Come on,” I whispered, not wanting to give him the chance to hesitate. I’m starving in the darkness, and he’s the only thing that can fill me up. “Come here, Trent. I need you.”

  Trent crawled forward, shifting his weight so that he was on top of me, skin against skin, nothing but breath and heat and shadows between us. I felt the tip of him pressed against me, my pussy soaking him already as I welcomed him inside.

  I reached between us, my small hand wrapping around the thick length of his cock and positioned him. The head jutted against my opening, just easing inside.

  “Fuck,” Trent breathed, the word leaving his lips in one long, drawn-out exhale. "You're so tight."

  Even as wet as I was, my pussy relaxed by an orgasm and by Trent’s fingers, I could feel his thick organ stretching me. I clutched at his shoulders, my fingers digging into the hard muscle as he pressed inside. I arched my hips, relishing that deep, sweet burn as Trent pushed in inch by inch.

  “Don’t stop,” I murmured. “Don’t ever stop.”

  Trent braced most of his weight on his elbows, holding himself up, and we both hissed when he came to rest fully inside me. I felt his heavy balls brush the curve of my ass, and I could hardly breathe. I’ve never felt this full, never felt so fully and perfectly fucked as I did at that moment.

  Trent leaned down to kiss me, his tongue tracing the contours of my lips, and I almost giggled at the realization that our first kiss didn’t happen until Trent was already balls deep inside my pussy.

  I sat up, keeping Trent’s cock still inside me as I scooted upward before flipping out positions. Trent sprawled flat on his back, and I straddled him an
d started to ride.

  Trent took hold of my hips as I rested my hands on his chest, using the leverage to start a slow up and down. I watched his erection as it slid in and out of me, my soft pink pussy lips hugging the thick, veined shaft. He glistened with my arousal even in the faint light of the room, and the wet sounds of our movement filled the room.

  A gasp caught in my throat, and it was almost too much. My thighs were already starting to tremble, and I have never been a girl who could come just from riding a cock. I’d always needed fingers or a tongue on my clit, but I was quickly learning that every other cock I’d ever ridden was a pale imitation of Trent’s.