Unprotected with his bes.., p.1

UNPROTECTED WITH HIS BEST FRIENDS, complete series, #1–3 (First time, fertile, forbidden, older man younger woman), page 1


UNPROTECTED WITH HIS BEST FRIENDS, complete series, #1–3 (First time, fertile, forbidden, older man younger woman)

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UNPROTECTED WITH HIS BEST FRIENDS, complete series, #1–3 (First time, fertile, forbidden, older man younger woman)

  Unprotected With My Dad’s Best Friends

  The complete series — three stories in one!

  (Virgin, fertile, forbidden, older man younger woman)


  Anya Aurelie




  Copyright © 2015 by Anya Aurelie

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.


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  Unprotected With My Dad’s Best Friend, #1

  I leaned in toward Shawn as he poured our drinks, squeezing my breasts together to emphasize my cleavage. He glanced over and looked down my shirt, and I felt a giddy thrill at his gaze. Would tonight finally be the night I’d lose my virginity?

  But a moment later he’d returned to pouring cheap tequila into the red plastic Solo cups, then topping it with the margarita mix I hated so much.

  “Here you go, Amber, Shawn’s famous margaritas,” he said cockily, handing me a cup, and I pretended like he’d actually put in some effort.

  “Mmm, delicious,” I moaned, licking my lips in what I hoped was a seductive way, a way that would get him thinking about what else I could do with those lips. I was so horny in those days I would’ve fucked almost anyone who would have me, I just wanted to know what it was like to get filled up. The margarita was syrupy-sweet, fake tasting, and not cold enough, but I’d be damned if I wouldn’t force it down my throat and pretend I loved every drop.

  Just like I wanted to force Shawn’s cock down my throat, and take in every drop of his cum. I wanted him to spread me open and pop my tight cherry so badly I felt almost feverish. I would’ve done anything to make him want me. And if getting it meant putting up with his lame attempts at bartending, so be it.

  But Shawn didn’t seem to be getting the hint about what I wanted from him.

  The lights went out then and colored lights appeared in their place, bouncing around the room. “Dance party!” someone screamed.

  While bodies began gyrating around me, I closed my eyes for a split second. An image of Dad’s three best buddies popped into my mind, shirtless and drinking from these same plastic cups last summer when we’d gone out on a party boat on the lake. They were over twice my age, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I’d flashed on that image, other than drinking from the same cup.

  But these cups were everywhere. Surely there was more to it.

  That day had stuck in my mind for some reason, and if I was honest with myself I’d flashed on it several times since then — even sometimes when I was masturbating. Growing up, my dad’s friends had been just that, but that day on the lake I saw them as men for the first time, muscular and strong and powerful…and it was clear they noticed my curves for the first time too. I’d seen the outline of their cocks when they’d come out of the water with their swim trunks clinging to their bodies, and my nipples had hardened as their eyes washed over my bikini-clad body.

  I made myself open my eyes. There was no point thinking about that — those men were off-limits. First of all, they were way too old for me, and even if they weren’t, they were my dad’s friends, people who had known me since I was little. I still lived with my dad even though I was in my second year of college, so fantasizing about these men was all the more forbidden.

  In front of me, Shawn danced drunkenly, the cup flailing with him and threatening to spill vile green liquid onto the already-sticky tile floor. For now, I told myself, I would have to be satisfied with boys like this, nineteen-year-olds like me who didn’t know what they were doing. One day I’d be able to move on to men, real men like my dad’s friends, but only when I myself was a real, experienced woman dating guys my own age.

  I moved toward Shawn until my body was against his, my breasts pressing into his chest, my pussy aching for his cock. I didn’t think I could be any more obvious.

  “Whoa, what are you doing?” he slurred, jerking away from me. The margarita sloshed up and over the rim of the cup and splattered on the floor behind him. Several other people around us looked over, and I felt my face heat up.

  “I’m — I’m sorry,” I stammered, not sure what else to say. I remembered my dad’s friend, Nate, telling me that day on the boat, “You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” The look in his eyes had told me he hadn’t just meant my personality, and a different kind of heat had filled my body.

  But he’d been wrong. I turned and fled the kitchen, putting many dancing college students between me and Shawn, trying to flee my embarrassment.

  I literally couldn’t give my virginity away.

  I tried not to cry, tried to enjoy the party still. It’s not the end of the world, I told myself. I didn’t even like Shawn that much — but weren’t teenage guys supposed to be the horny ones? Weren’t they the ones who were supposed to be willing to fuck anyone who offered? I was pretty enough, wasn’t I? I had perky breasts, a flat stomach, long legs.

  I danced with a few other guys, but my heart wasn’t in it. I couldn’t get over the sting of rejection, couldn’t stop thinking of how Nate and my dad’s other two friends, Jamie and Chris, had made me feel sexy that day — and naughty for liking it — but that they were the only ones. Guys my age just weren’t into me.

  And to be honest, I really wasn’t into them either. But fuck — why was it so hard to get laid?!

  Half an hour later, I was still miserable. I went back to the kitchen to pour out the warm remains of my drink and exchange it for some much-needed water, but halfway to the sink I froze. A girl I recognized from my Intro Psych class was sitting on one of the wooden dining room chairs. Shawn was on top of her, sucking her face and pushing her skirt up her leg. From the force with which he pressed his body into her, it looked like he was trying to fuck her right there in the kitchen.

  My heart fell. I quickly set my plastic cup down on the table next to me, turned around, and walked out the front door. Outside, the air was warm and still, and I stood there a moment, adjusting to the silence after leaving the raging party indoors.

  I was crushed. I was so fucking horny, and all I wanted was for someone to take my virginity, pop me open and fuck me silly. Was that really so much to ask? I headed toward my car, tears starting to blur my vision. Don’t cry, I told myself. He’s not worth it. But I couldn’t help it. It was already happening.

  I was glad I’d only had one margarita — I was fine to drive, legally, and I wanted to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. I only lived a ten-minute drive home, but it was excruciating. I just wanted to curl up in my own bed, get naked, and go to sleep.

  As I drove, one hand wandered down between my legs and up my skirt. I felt the silky warmth of my underwear and rubbed the thin strip of fabric separating my fingers from my pussy. Without meaning to, I imagined my dad’s friends’ fingers rubbing me there. In my imagination the tips of their fingers were rough and firm, yet gentle.

bsp; I knew I shouldn’t allow myself to think about them, but…it was better than thinking about Shawn, wasn’t it? Who even knew anymore. I wondered how many pussies Nate, Jamie, and Chris had slid into in their lifetimes, how experienced they were. I had a feeling they’d had their share of excitement and really knew how to please a woman. For some reason, the thought of them fucking lots of women turned me on even more.

  By the time I pulled up at home, my pussy was nice and wet, and the tears were starting to dry on my cheeks. Who needed Shawn, anyway? More than anything, it was more the humiliation of being rejected that upset me, only to see him making out with someone else. I couldn’t wait to get inside and rub my clit, further forget about this silly college boy who made shitty margaritas. I promised myself I’d find someone else to think about other than the strong older men I was trying to push out of my mind.

  But I still felt fragile as I eased my car into the garage and pulled my keys out of the ignition, grateful that my dad’s truck was gone. He and Jamie had gone out tonight to some bar, I remembered vaguely. Or was it to hear music? Now that I was old enough to sometimes spend time at the same types of places as my dad, I tried not to pay too much attention to where he went. It embarrassed me.

  I fumbled to put my key in the lock, then pushed into the living room. Dad had left the light on, so I almost didn’t realize that a light down the hall was also on — his bedroom light. I started down the hallway toward my own bedroom, then noticed his light. He never left the lights on when he wasn’t home, and was always getting on my case about driving up the electricity bill when I did it.

  Going past my bedroom, I went to his doorway to turn the light off — and stopped short. Jamie, dad’s friend, was standing in my father’s closet flipping through shirts, wearing only tight underwear that left little to the imagination as I looked at him in profile. For a split second, my eyes drifted over his broad, muscular chest, so different from Shawn’s — or from any boy I knew, for that matter — and then down to his rounded ass in back and surprisingly large bulge in front. I felt myself grow wetter.

  Jamie glanced up and saw me then. “Amber!” he said. “I didn’t know you were home.”

  “I just got back,” I said. “What are you doing? Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s out grabbing some beer,” Jamie said. “And if we’re honest, I think he’s also fighting with Marion about something.”

  Marion was my mother. For as long as I could remember, my parents hadn’t gotten along, and while other divorced parents had learned how to make it work after fifteen years, my parents still couldn’t seem to get past their differences.

  “Ah,” I said. “That could take hours.”

  “Tell me about it.” Jamie rolled his eyes at me, and I smiled.

  “So, um…”

  “Oh, right,” he said, as though suddenly remembering that he was standing in front of me mostly naked. “While Roger’s out, he told me to look through his closet and find something to wear to the show tonight.”

  “I take it you came over naked?” I joked, but just saying the word “naked” sent an electric jolt down to my clit.

  “Nah, just still wearing my clothes from work.”

  I sat down gingerly on the edge of my dad’s bed and peered at Jamie. “Are most men like you all?” I asked. “I thought that was a girl thing, to go through each other’s closets and share clothes.” I was stalling, not wanting to leave the room, not wanting to leave this mostly naked hunk of man standing in front of me.

  He laughed, pulling a shirt out of the closet. “Yes, we’re giving each other pedicures later, if that’s what you’re asking,” he deadpanned. “What do you think about this shirt?”

  “I think you look better without a shirt,” I said, then clapped a hand over my mouth. The words had come out before I’d even realized I’d formed them in my mind. I looked up at Jamie, horrified.

  But he was smiling down at me with an expression I didn’t quite recognize on his face, something in between desire and amusement. “You’re right, this would look awful on me,” he said, pretending to interpret my comment in a nonsexual way.

  Then he looked closer at my face. “Amber, are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”

  I waved the suggestion away with one hand and sighed. “It’s just been a…hard night,” I said.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Jamie’s tone was soft and caring, even as his body in front of me was hard and firm, reminding me of a huge slab of steak.

  “Not really,” I said, then told him anyway. “I was at a party. I was hitting on this guy. And he rejected me. But then I saw him making out with this other girl. He was, like, all over her.” I sniffed, trying not to start crying again.

  “Oh, Amber,” he said sympathetically, and sat down next to me on the bed. I could feel the heat coming off his body, and it made my nipples harden and my clit strain inside my panties. I remembered how sexy he’d made me feel that day on the boat, and I wanted a little of that feeling back.

  “And he’s probably fucking her right now,” I continued. “And meanwhile, I can’t seem to get a guy interested to save my life.”

  Jamie took my hand as though it were the most natural thing in the world, but I felt as though the heat from his fingers would sear through me. My entire focus was in that hand, that spot where he touched me, but I tried to act normal, tried to pretend I hardly noticed.

  “I’m sure there are plenty of guys interested in you,” he said. “It was just this one time, right? You’ve gotten guys in the past.”

  I looked at him, surprised. “No, I haven’t,” I said. “It’s every time.” I knew I should stop there, knew that my father’s best friend was not the right person to confide in, knew that this was crossing a line already. But Jamie’s comforting voice was so soothing to me, and his hand on mine felt so good, so affirming. Not to mention, his naked man-flesh was mesmerizing.

  So I continued. “No one wants me. I’m nineteen, in my second year of college, and I’ve been trying to lose my virginity for a year and a half.”

  Jamie looked shocked. “You’re…a virgin?” he asked.

  I nodded miserably. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something stir. Wearing only underwear, it was impossible for him to hide it: his cock was responding to me.

  I stared at him, my turn to be shocked now. “Are you getting hard?” I asked. Oh god, this was crossing so many lines.

  He looked embarrassed. “It’s pretty fucking sexy that you’re a virgin,” he admitted.

  “It is?” It had never felt sexy to me.

  “Sure it is,” he said. “Of course.” His cock grew more. I saw it pulsing inside his underwear. Jamie adjusted himself, trying to hide his erection, but sitting there in only his underwear, it was impossible.

  He groaned. “I can’t believe I’m admitting to Roger’s daughter how hot she is!” he said, addressing the ceiling.

  “You think I’m hot?” I asked, smiling now. My heart was beating faster. This night was turning around now. Jamie thought I was hot!

  “Are you kidding me?!” he said, looking at me now as though I were crazy. “You’re smoking. If you weren’t Roger’s daughter, if I’d just met you in a bar, I’d have asked you out in an instant. And if you’d let me, I’d have been inside your pants quicker than you could say ‘fuck me.’”

  I stared at his lips and swallowed hard at the words “fuck me.” I wanted to say those words to him so badly I could hardly stand it. I felt them deep inside my lungs, trying to get out, but I stifled them. It was so wrong. So wrong.

  Trying to steady my breath and my fluttering heart, I whispered, “If I’d met you in a bar and you’d asked me out, I’d have said yes. And I’d have let you…” I hesitated, “fuck me.”

  My pussy was throbbing like crazy. My whole body felt on alert, my breathing was shallow. Jamie was so still that I wondered what he was thinking, was sure he was about to pull away.

  But then he reached over and touched the s
ide of my face. He traced his fingers down my neck, and I shivered at his light touch, my nipples straining to attention, begging for his touch.

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