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Fostering Farah - 1
by Netman169 (netman169@yahoo.com)

***

Farah was a thirteen-year old girl in foster care whose 
life was going pretty well until her foster father 
loaned to his friends to pay off a gambling debt. In 
Part 1, Farah gives up her virginity, in order to stay 
in the Wilson's foster home. (Mf, ped, nc, rp, 1st, 
mast)

***

Part 1 – Jeb's Demand 

My name is Farah. I'm thirteen years old and have been 
in foster care since I was eight. I was taken away from 
my parents then because they were both abusive 
alcoholics. 

Like most foster kids, I bounced around from foster home 
to foster home. Each one seemed worse than the other and 
then I ended up at the Wilson's. Jeb and Marge Wilson 
were great foster parents and to top it off they were 
rich.

The Wilsons were in their forties. They lived in a very 
large suburban house; some might call it a mansion. For 
the first time in my life I had my own bedroom with a 
closet full of clothes, a big screen TV, and even my own 
laptop. 

They were really good to me, even though my past 
experiences made me jaded and rebellious. I was a petite 
girl with long black hair and pouty brown eyes. I just 
recently reached puberty. My breasts were nice A-cups 
and my butt was real round. My pussy lips were still 
pretty thin and I didn't have any pubic hair down there 
yet.

I often wore lots of eye make-up and preferred to wear 
short skirts and tank tops to more conservative 
clothing. My appearance often made me look wilder than I 
really was.

Marge Wilson was a businesswoman and spent lots of time 
out of town. Jeb on the other hand was a writer and was 
always home. I often caught him staring at me out of the 
corner of my eye. This was especially true when I was at 
the pool in my bikini or when lounging around the house 
in my nightshirt. 

It was the summer between seventh and eighth grade and I 
too was home a lot. One day when I was in my room 
getting ready to change after coming home from the mall, 
Mr. Wilson walked in. I was standing there in my short 
red and black plaid skirt and a black tank top. Mrs. 
Wilson was out of town for the week and it was just he 
and I. He took a long look at me and then spoke. 

"That's a pretty sexy outfit for just going to the 
mall," he said. "Were you trying to hook-up with some 
boys?"

"Mr. Wilson, you shouldn't me talking to me like that," 
I said. "I don't hook-up. I'm a good girl."

"Well there's a first time for everything," he said, 
pulling me into his arms.

"Mr. Wilson, stop!" I shouted. "I told you I'm not that 
kind of girl!"

"Well that's too bad. I thought you liked it here?" he 
said, still holding onto me.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"Don't you know that foster care is temporary?" he said. 
"We can terminate the arrangement at any time – any time 
we feel we're not getting along with each other."

"I thought we were getting along just fine," I pointed 
out.

"Not the way I mean 'getting along'," he said sliding 
his hands under my tube top.

Realizing I was in a difficult position, I just froze 
and closed my eyes.

I felt Mr. Wilson's hands on my braless A-cup breasts. 
No one had ever touched me there before. His palms 
rubbed my breasts while his fingers slid over my 
nipples. I was scared and my eyes started to tear up.

"I really do like it here Mr. Wilson. Do we really have 
to do this?" I asked, starting to cry now.

"Wipe your tears girl. You might actually enjoy it," he 
said pushing me onto the bed.

As he did, he moved a hand from my breast to my inner 
thigh. I tensed up at first but when I realized I had no 
choice, I surrendered to his advances. It wasn't long 
before I felt his hand on the crotch of my panties.

I tried not to react as he rubbed back and forth, hoping 
he would just stop. That did not happen. Instead he 
pulled the crotch off to one side and rubbed up and down 
my bare slit. I put my hand over his, trying the push it 
away. It was no use. 

"This isn't right Mr. Wilson," I pleaded. He could tell 
I was afraid but he didn't care. 

"If it isn't right, why are you so wet down here?" he 
asked, as his hand slid down to my pussy hole.

I didn't have an answer. I hardly knew what was 
happening and then I felt his hand rubbing my clitoris. 
It felt much better than I expected but I didn't want 
him to know that. I closed my eyes and clenched my 
teeth, trying to move my pelvis away from his reach.

He was strong, I didn't succeed and then something 
happened. After rubbing my clit for a while, my whole 
body exploded. I had given myself orgasms before, but it 
felt much different at the hand of someone else – 
better.

Even though it felt good, I didn't want him to know it. 
I lie there hoping that was all he wanted to do. I was 
wrong.

He leaned up and pulled the crop top over my head. I 
raised my hands so he won't rip it. I didn't resist, not 
wanting to make him angry. That gave him a real good 
look at my thirteen-year old A-cup breasts. After 
feeling them again, he pulled off my skirt.

I was lying there in only my white, cotton bikini 
panties. Even though I'm a little girl, I must have 
looked sexy to him for he stared at me a long time. Part 
of me liked that.

Then putting his thumbs on my waistband, he pulled off 
the panties. I lifted my hips so he would not tear the 
panties. I was now totally naked before him – both 
scared and excited at the same time.

I wondered what he thought of my thirteen-year old 
pussy. Had he ever seen lips so thin or so bare? Why 
would a grown man want to look at a little girl's body? 
Can an almost flat-chested thirteen-year old, turn on a 
man in his forties?

I soon got the answer as he stripped completely while at 
my side. I saw my first real-life cock and from what I 
could tell it was hard and excited. It seemed to be 
eight-inches long and part of me wanted to reach over 
and feel it, but as he climbed up over my body, I 
realized what he was about to do.

I started to struggle and move my body out from under 
him but he was too strong and heavy. When I felt his 
cock at the entrance to my vagina, I really panicked. 
Being in middle school, I was ready to lose my 
virginity, just not like this.

Then he started pushing forward and felt his cock 
parting my thin pussy lips as I continued to wiggle and 
struggle. I started to scream, hoping to make him stop. 

As it hit my hymen, I yelled, "NO, NO, NO!" 

He didn't care at all. I felt a sharp pain as Mr. 
Wilson's cock burst through my virgin cherry. Despite 
what some girls say - it hurt, it hurt a lot and I 
started to cry. Despite this, he continued to pump in 
and out. After a while, the pain went away - I was 
getting no pleasure, but at least it did not hurt.

I closed my eyes and settled down accepting the 
inevitable. After the initial fast pace, Mr. Wilson 
settled into fucking me slow and steady. Then something 
surprising started to happen – it actually started 
feeling good.

My breathing got shallow and I had to suppress my moans. 
I certainly did not want him to know that I liked this.

In fact it started to feel really good. His bulbous 
cockhead was hitting the insides of my pussy just right. 
Every once and a while the top of his shaft would even 
hit my clit. The sensation was electric. It was hard to 
hide my pleasure. I masked it by continuing to pretend 
to resist.

And mentally, the feeling of that first cock inside me 
was exciting. The burden of my virginity had finally 
been lifted. I would no longer have to fear that first 
time. I would no longer have to wonder what some of my 
classmates were talking about. My masturbation could 
finally include fingers and toys. "Thanks Mr. Wilson!" I 
thought.

Meanwhile back to reality, Mr. Wilson was pumping in and 
out of me faster now. My pelvis seemed to have a mind of 
its own and rocked up into him on every stroke. Then it 
happened – the walls of my vagina started to expand and 
contract around his shaft. I was exploding in my first 
orgasm through sex. I tried to disguise my outward 
reaction but I couldn't hide what my insides were doing.

The clamping and unclamping of my vaginal muscles around 
his cock caused Mr. Wilson to ejaculate. I felt load 
after load of hot cum shooting deep into my pussy. 
Luckily it was a good time of the month for me. 

There were again tears in my eyes but even I didn't know 
whether they were from joy or sorrow.

As Mr. Wilson withdrew, a whole river of cum along with 
some blood flowed out onto my sheets. (I knew I would 
have to wash them myself before Mrs. Wilson saw them.)

Pulling the top sheet over my naked body I spoke. "Are 
we good now?" I asked, sniffling. "Can I stay?"

"That depends?" he said.

"That depends on what?" I asked.

"That depends on how well you do what I want you to do 
from now on," he said grabbing his clothes and leaving 
my room.

To be continued...

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is 
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in 
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real 
life" can look forward to many unproductive years 
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their 
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 83