Page 141 of A Foster Fling
My eyes on the door she just disappeared through. I let out a groan and lean back in my chair. All I wanted was to gather her up in my arms, have her curl up against me and keep her safe. Closing my eyes, I press my fingers to my temple and let out a sigh.
She pulls me closer, and her lips collide roughly with mine as she hums, “Mmm,”
I moan against her lips and move her, so she’s straddling my lap. Gripping her bare thighs in my hands, I slowly run them up beneath the hem of her dress. The material slips higher, exposing creamy skin. We’re both breathing heavily as the moment builds between us.
I brush a finger lightly over the front of Robyn’s panties, causing a little whimper to escape from her lips.
“I don’t care about anything other than being with you right now,” I whisper, loving her gasp when I tug her underwear down and dip my finger into her wetness, before bringing it up to circle her clit.
“So wet for me, Robyn,” I groan, grinding against her while continuing to rub her clit.
“Make love to me,” she begs, crying out when I apply the right amount of pressure and she quivers on top of me.
A lowgrowl rumblesin my chest as I grip her by her thighs and lie her flat across my desk. Fumbling with the button of my jeans with her small hands, she frees my swollen cock, and I slide her panties down her legs. I line my hard shaft up against her wet pussy and sink slowly into her body until there is nothing but a breath of space between us.
“Damn, Robyn. You’re so perfect,” I groan, as I begin moving slowly, in and out.
Robyn looks up at me, trust and desire in her eyes, making me feel whole. Here, she can’t be touched by the monsters who live in her past. This doesn’t feel wrong, like I’m doing something I shouldn’t. I fuck her until she comes with a soft moan, shaking as her pussy squeezes my cock, milking me of my own release.
Waking with a jolt, I sit upright in my chair. My cock is throbbing, and the vividness of my dream begins to fade. Robyn can never find out about this. She’s an intelligent, beautiful girl, and while the delicate innocence radiating from her leaves me salivating, I can’t act on it. It’s already almost impossible not to touch her whenever she’s within reach, and I can’t seem to stifle this furious need I have to sample a taste of her.
I’m at war with myself. The father in me knows this is wrong, and the man in me wants her regardless. It’s ethically wrong; she’s been entrusted to my care, and I can’t become another monster that will haunt her.
I need to find a way to get a handle on these thoughts of mine. I almost regret bringing her here, but she needed a home and somewhere safe with people she can trust. Should I lose this internal war of mine it would cost me everything; my son, Robyn, and my future as a foster father.
There’s only one good thing about her disappearing so quickly. It stopped me from accidentally showing her more than I want her to see. Getting to my feet, I adjust my aching hard-on and leave my office. I decide to get the laundry done. It’ll keep me out of the way until I’ve gotten my rebellious dick under control.
As I pull clean clothes out of the dryer, I trail my fingers down the soft material of Robyn’s dresses, remembering the way they hug her soft curves. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and continue sorting through everything, dividing it all into the small, individual hampers that go into each of our bedrooms.
One item drops to the floor, landing at my feet, and I bend down to grab it. A low groan escapes me and blood rushes south to my dick when I see it’s a pair of Robyn’s panties. It doesn’t usually affect me like this, but the lingering memory of the dream, combined with my already aching cock, is proving to be my undoing. I drop a hand to my swelling cock and squeeze it through the fabric of my pants. Grinding my teeth together, I start to rub my hand up and down the shaft, hoping to ease some of the ache.
Lust takes over, and I loosen my belt, unfasten the button and zip, and free myself from the confines of my pants. I should be sickened by what I’m about to do, but all I can feel is a warped thrill of excitement as I wrap her soft panties around my dick and fist the length, pumping my dick slowly.
Pleasure tingles at the base of my spine, and my balls draw up tighter as I move my hand faster, groaning as the material strokes my cock beneath my palm. An image of Robyn kneeling in front of me while I fuck her mouth and throat flits into my mind.
“Fuck,” I groan, shuddering as thick white cum spurts from the end of my dick, coating my hand inside Robyn’s panties. Panting, I press a hand against the edge of the dryer to keep myself steady as aftershocks ripple through me.
After a few moments, my breathing is more regulated and I’ve regained my sense of balance. I let out a heavy sigh and stand up straight, tucking my soft dick back into my pants. Tossing the evidence of my indiscretion into the washer, I fill it with another load of laundry and switch the machine on. I wish I felt guilty. However, if quietly fucking a pair of her panties can take the edge off enough to keep me sane, then it’ll be better than the alternative.
As tempting as it is to throw caution to the wind and risk everything for a few forbidden moments with my foster daughter, I can’t. Even though all I can think about right now is how she would feel beneath me as I work my dick into her tight body, touching her, giving her pleasure, and tasting her sweet pussy as she comes.
I clench my fists and force myself to remember what’s at stake if I fuck this up. Angry at myself for allowing myself this moment of weakness, I erect mental walls around myself in an attempt to stay focused. Despite the unethical thoughts attempting to pry their way into my mind and coax me into doing something I shouldn’t, I’m trying to be the foster father she needs me to be.
Chapter Five
Robyn
Saturday afternoon, Troy suggests we have a movie night, and I jump at the idea to do something other than study revision for a little while. Raiden bails, saying he’s already got plans with his friends. Escaping the expectations and responsibilities for one night won’t hurt, not when I’ve been working so hard to keep up with all of my schoolwork and prep for my exams.
“What do you feel like watching?” Troy asks, settling next to me on the couch with the remote and loading up the screen with all of the streaming apps he’s got downloaded.
“I don’t know. You can pick this one, and I’ll pick the next one,” I suggest.
He nods, and after flicking through the different apps to see what’s available, he finally settles on a horror movie calledThe Conjuring. As the movie plays, I stare transfixed at the screen, covering the lower half of my face with my hands when it starts to get me really creeped out. Troy squeezes my hand, and I give him a reassuring smile that turns into a frightened squeak when I jump in fear. I know it’s not real, but it doesn’t stop the twinge and cold shiver that runs through me as the scene unfolds.
Troy laughs when I let out a scream, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders pulling me close. I bury my face in his chest and he chuckles, rubbing my arm with his hand.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have picked the movie,” he observes, sounding regretful.