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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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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