He looked at me with amusement and mouthed, “Neighbor.” Then he lifted his head and called, “Everything’s fine, Mrs. Benson. New exercise routine.” He placed a finger over my lips when I giggled. “I’ve been working out really hard this evening.” Oh, you bad boy! I smacked him on the ass, and it was a lot louder than I expected, making both of our bodies shake with silent laughter.

“Uh-huh. Okay, young man. Just remember to… what is it you kids say? Oh yes, make sure to wrap it before you tap it.”

Axel’s face scrunched up as he tried to hold it in, and he managed to call out in a choked voice, “Thank you for the tip, Mrs. Benson.” He buried his face in my neck and laughed hysterically, but my laughter had faded.

Oh. Holy. Shit. We didn’t use a condom.

21. Blaire

Blaire

It was like someone pulled the stopper out of my body, and every ounce of humor drained out of me in a flash when I realized what we had done.

I pushed at his shoulders and whispered harshly, “Get off me now, Ax. Move!” He immediately pulled out of me and lifted his body from mine, looking down at me in confusion. I could feel his cum dripping out of me and down my legs as I leaped from the couch and grabbed a white throw blanket from a nearby chair. Wrapping it around me like a fuzzy strapless dress, I turned to Ax with wild eyes.

“Blaire, what’s wrong, baby?” he asked, concerned, his hands gripping the edges of his cushy couch.

“You didn’t wrap it!” I hissed. “We didn’t use a condom!”

His face relaxed. “It’s okay. I swear I’m clean, sweetheart. I never—”

“I’m not on birth control, Axel,” I snapped, pacing back and forth in my blanket dress, gnawing on my thumbnail.

His eyes widened at that. “Why… what… why aren’t you on birth control, Blaire?”

Leaning down until my face was an inch from his, my green eyes blazed into his blue ones. “Because. I. Don’t. Have. Sex. Why would I be on birth control?” I stood and resumed my pacing, in a near panic now, one arm waving wildly while the other clutched the blanket to hold it up. “And here you come putting your stupid, super-potent baby-making sperm inside me.”

He stood and took me by the shoulders, halting my pacing. “Calm down, babe.”

“Don’t you ‘calm down, babe’ me,” I hissed, scowling at him and jabbing his hard chest with my finger. “You just pumped me full of approximately four gallons of your man chowder containing millions of those egg-seeking missiles you call sperm.”