FOSTER BOND # BOOK 2 (COMPLETED)

LIFE AFTER FOSTER BOND

Chapter 10
Two weeks had gone by, and Keran and I hadn't spoken, nor had I seen her as she was staying at friends'—or so I hoped. The thought that she might have spent her nights with her boyfriend was breaking my heart asunder. But she was right. I couldn't give her a good reason not to give her cherry to her boyfriend. I was a hypocrite. I wanted her to save herself for me, yet I wasn't willing to take her, either. I wasn't ready to commit to her, to bind my life to hers.

My erectile problem was still present although my cock had shown some encouraging signs that it might snap out of it soon. I was able to get hard once or twice a week by myself, it was a step in the right direction.

I was hurting bad every day because of Keran, because of Amber, because of me... I was resolved to get over my foster sister as soon as possible and to start f**king whatever I could get my hands on—provided my cock played along. I had no shot of being happy in this life anyway. If I couldn't be with my foster sister, there was no hope for any form of happiness. Certainly, my hope for happiness had already died if she gave her virginity to her boyfriend.


It was Friday night, and my friends—who had begun taking notice of my increasing depression—wanted me to go out with them to a bar we had visited once before, and since I hadn't been outdoors since I was out with them last time, and since they didn't leave me much choice in the matter, I was out on a bender with them. Upon sitting at the bar, one of my friends was quick to note that my foster sister was there, as well. I glanced at her table and saw that her precious boyfriend was there with her along with a large group of friends, Freya included. My celebrative mood instantly took a beat down.

Keran looked stunning. Absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. Her cherry red lips were noticeable even from that far away, and so were her deep cleavage and lush body. She was a head-turner, and my friends were kind enough to continue reminding me of that. I tried persuading my posse to migrate to a different bar, but since I couldn't give them a reasonable excuse as to why I wanted to leave, they refused. Keran was aware of my presence from the second I'd gotten in, and her bitter scowls were as versatile as plentiful. I ignored her completely and engaged in a drinking stamina contest with my friends, who didn't seem to care that I didn't even say hello to her.

Sometime after my third pint, I received a text, "You look even worse than last time :("

It was Freya. I cut my eyes at their table and caught her smiling at me. Keran looked away the second I met her eyes.

I texted, "What are you talking about? I was at the top of my game last time."

She laughed as she texted, "You and your foster sister... wanna talk about it?"

I texted, "No. Not really. I doubt she'll let you talk to me regardless."

Freya texted, "screw her. I do what I want when I want. Get me a beer."

Once her beer was placed on the counter, Freya joined me. "What's shaking, homeboy?"

I cocked a brow, smiling. "Homeboy?"

"I got you to smile."

I chuckled.

"And to laugh. That's worth another beer."

"Well-played. But maybe first start with this one?" I gestured at her beer and glanced at Keran, who stared back at me quite despicably. "I think my foster sister is less than pleased to see you here. It's best you get back to your table. I don't want you two—"

"Dennis, I know how to handle Keran." She sat next to me. "No need to worry."

I shrugged my shoulders. "If you say so."

"You two really hit it off." Freya giggled along.

"So I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that you're still in love with whomever that girl is and that it hasn't gone well thus far.

I turned back to her as I swigged my beer. "Freya, I think you're psychic."

"I'm not psychic, just observant. I'm really good at reading people. It's like my gift." She took a sip from her beer.

"Trust me, you are a girl of many gifts."

"Too bad that some people can't see that."

"Then it's their loss, because you can overflow Santa's sack with your gifts."

"Is that so?" She smiled. "Do tell."

"I find it hard you need me to tell you about your gifts."

"And still..." she started, patiently waiting.

"Alright. Let's start with the obvious: you're attractive, you're—"

"Attractive?" she echoed, her brow arching at the insult. "Wow, you're really not interested in me."

"I wanted to go with hot, but I wasn't sure if that's cool."

"Hot works." She giggled. "Still a long way to fill Santa's sack. Carry on."

"You're smoking hot, you're hilarious, you're sharp, you care about people, you're sensitive, you're intelligent, you're a good friend, and clearly, you're quite observant, just to name a few, and I barely even know you."

There was an awkward silence for a moment or two.

"Jeez..." she murmured, a bashful simper crossing her pretty mouth. "Apparently, I have more gifts than I thought."

I finished my beer. "Yes, you do."

"It's weird, you know..." she mused a minute later and pensively sipped on her beer.

"What is?"

"You, me... this."

A worried look furrowed my brow. "This?"

"Don't freak out; I wasn't implying anything. I'm just saying that... I normally don't have such good conversations with guys, but with you it feels..."

She pulled her blond hair back as she nervously looked away.

"Yeah?"

She turned her head back to me, locking our eyes together. "... effortless."

Another tense silence took over.

"Freya, you're ruining this. I don't have female friends, and I'm enjoying your company, but—"

"My bad; won't happen again."

"Good girl."

I got another beer, and we continued to drink, silently ruminating.

"Did you really mean what you said before?" she asked out of the blue after a minute or so. "What you said about me?"

"Every word. I don't lie to my friends."

"Just to your girlfriends."

I slowly bobbed my head, staring blankly at my beer. "Sometimes."

She emptied her beer in periodical sips, deep in thought. "Then how is it that you think so highly of me—I mean I understand you're in a tight spot, but"—she shot me an unequivocal look—"there's something here, Dennis... isn't there?"

I looked into her expressive blue eyes. "What happened to it won't happen again?"

"Oops," she said, though not seeming sorry at all.

I ordered a shot of whiskey and glanced at my foster sister, who again viciously glared back at me.

"Freya, I don't know what to say to you. You're well aware of my predicament, and this talk isn't doing any good to my fragile state of mind. Actually, it kinda makes me feel worse."

"Why?"

"Because... trust me when I tell you this: If I'd met you six months ago, I would've been all over you. You wouldn't even need to speak; I would be following you around like a puppy. You're incredible, but I'm damaged, and you're now making me feel even more damaged."

"You're not that damaged, Dennis; not to me you're not."

I heaved a sigh. "Freya, I'm begging you: run for your life."

She nodded as she stood up and dashed away. She suddenly halted halfway to her table and strutted back to me with a look of resolution on her face. "You wanna know what I think, Dennis? I think you're scared. I think you don't want to get hurt again, and you're pushing away anyone who might hurt you in the future."

I snorted. "Please, don't act like you know me. What, we've talked a couple of times, and you're already an expert at me? You couldn't be more off. Just ask my foster sister."

"And what would she tell me?"

I took a long draft from my beer. "That this is beyond your powers."

"That's what you think. A month from now, you'll be so hung up on me, I'll have to get a restraining order."

I did the shot of cheap whiskey and shivered at the disgusting burn. "Freya, you don't know what you're talking about. You're playing with fire here."

"The foundations are already here: we are attracted to one another, we have ridiculously great conversations, and we really like each other. All I need is just to get that girl out of your head long enough for me to squeeze in."

"forget it, forget me for your own good. I said leaving her standing, picking up my beer and leaving.

"Stay away from her." I heard a familiar voice from behind once I was out.

"Good to see you, too, Sis."

"Spare me the pleasantries. I don't want you to hurt her."

"I don't want to hurt her, but she's basically coercing me to take her out. Maybe you can knock some sense into her 'cause I sure hell couldn't."

"I'll take care of it. You just keep your distance."

"Done." I raised my beer and resumed drinking. "You're still here," I stated half-minute later.

"This is your idea of being happy? Getting drunk? Are you feeling happy now? My goodness, you're pathetic..."

"Keran, get lost."

"You're such a sad, sad person..."

I turned my head to meet her eyes. "Why don't you get back to your boyfriend there and leave me alone. Freya was right: you do look good together." I gave her my back.

"That's not the only thing we're good together at."

Her wicked uttering pierced through my heart like a poisonous arrow. My blood pressure instantly sored as my body began flaming internally. I wanted to die, but I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of seeing how badly she was hurting me.

I kept my back to her. "Yeah, I bet he's having the time of his life with that slutty mouth of yours."

"You've seen my bag of tricks. What do you think?"

"I think you're a f**king whore. I bet you swallow every day."

"Try twice a day... though I'll admit that his cum his disgusting, nowhere near as tasty as yours. But what can you do? It's not like he gives me much choice, and you know how I aim to please."

"Oh, we know... we know."

"He filled me up so many times that I can smell his cum in my breath sometimes. It's really nasty. I'm f**king sweating his jizz at the gym. He's probably drained fifty gallons of his revolting cum down my throat so far, but I can't say anything. He's my man."

I turned to look at her for the first time since she'd started perforating my heart. "You're such a dirty f**king slut."

"You don't even know the half of it." She mashed her thighs together, as if she had been holding in her pee. "My goodness, my pussy's sore..."

She was skinning my heart alive. I started trembling out of ache and rage. The thought she had given him her virginity was, literally, killing me. I wanted to murder her on the spot, yet I did my best to disguise it.

I looked away. "So, how was your... first time? Was it everything you hoped for?"

"Better."

I gulped, clinging to composure for dear life. "I'm... happy for you. When was the... the special occasion?"

"Actually, it was the night after you gave up on me. It was very special though. He lit up candles and put on some music... and then he rammed his giant cock into me while I was screaming from the unbearable pain."

I was seriously beginning to lose it. Every word she uttered was like a spear thrust into my chest, skewering my already bleeding heart. I accidentally shed a tear, but I wiped it off tactfully, so she might not have noticed.

"Dennis, are you okay? You don't look like you're feeling well," she said as demonically as possible.

"You're such a f**king whore."

"Why? Because I let my boyfriend pop my cherry? It was amazing, Dennis, though I was so embarrassed since I bled so much. I kept bleeding for hours, but he didn't mind. He just kept f**king me all night long. I begged him to stop. I told him it hurt too much, but he didn't care. My goodness, he was horny... he didn't stop even when I cried."

"Get the f**k away from me."

"Why? Does it hurt?"

"Don't flatter yourself. Your filthy mouth can't hurt me.

"It's been almost two weeks since he cracked me open, and I still cry sometimes from the pain. Is it normal, Dennis? I don't think it's normal... he already told me he was going to f**k me hard tonight, and I have to admit: he scares me. I just hope he won't get too rough with me, like last night when he got carried away, and he tried f**king me up the ass without lube even. Thank my goodness he's too big," she sighed in relief. "It bought me some time."

I thrusted the bottle in my arm into the dump a couple of feet’s away, I was not sure I needed it in my arm, it was more of a weapon at this point just then the door open.
Freya was walking my way, but luckily, my whore of a foster sister stopped her before she could reach me. I took a cab home and drank until I passed out in my bed.