For fifteen years I had been passed from foster home to foster home, I'd never been in the same place for longer than a couple of years and needless to say it left me feeling bitter and unwanted. I suppose to be honest the fault lay with the system, but I didn't see it that way, all I knew was that just as I was beginning to settle in to a place along came the Social Services to move me on. The knowledge that I had been put into this situation by the Social Services did nothing to help, quite by accident I had found out that they had taken me from my mother when I was born because they had considered her too young to look after me, apparently she had been thirteen when she gave birth to me. All in all I was not happy with my life and as I grew older I did a lot to express this, I was always getting into trouble of one sort or another, never quite bad enough to land me in a juvenile court, but enough to have me labelled as a problem child. Things changed quite unexpectedly when I was assigned to the Wilson's.

On the day I was 'escorted' to the Wilson household I was expecting to meet the usual middle-aged couple who had a bevy of kids of their own and thought it would be 'nice' to give a home to a 'deprived' child. To my surprise Mrs. Wilson was a very attractive woman in her late twenties while Mr. Wilson was a well-preserved pensioner.

"Well, here we are then." the Social Worker greeted the couple, "This is Mark, Mark this is Mr. and Mrs. Wilson."

"Hello son." Mr. Wilson greeted me with a smile.

I gave a sullen nod and received a glare from the Social Worker; I'd already been warned to be on my best behaviour by him.

"Shall we go inside?" Mrs. Wilson smiled.

"I can't stop," the Social Worker replied, "I've another call to make."

Relieved to be rid of me the man left, bending down I picked up my suitcase in which were my few meagre possessions and looked at my new 'family'.

"Come in Mark," Mr. Wilson smiled, "I'll show you to your room. After you've unpacked we can get to know each other."

"Whatever." I sighed.

Mr. Wilson led me upstairs to a bedroom, much to my surprise the room was large, I was used to getting the smallest room in the house, and in the centre of the room was a double bed, which also surprised me. Along one wall were wardrobes, a chest of drawers and a dressing table; on the opposite wall were a desk and a set of bookshelves, barely glancing at the books on the shelves I gazed at the computer sitting on the desk. Grinning Mr. Wilson attracted my attention to the television and video recorder that sat opposite the end of the bed, looking around at the luxury of the room I tried to figure out what the catch was.

"I'll leave you alone to unpack," Mr. Wilson said with a smile, "when you are ready come downstairs and we'll get to know each other a little."

"Yeah, sure." I responded in my usual sullen tone.

Unfazed by my attitude Mr. Wilson grinned and left the room, as the door closed behind him I put my case on the bed and sat down beside it. Once again I looked around the room, I was tempted to pinch myself as I could not believe what I was seeing, in all my other foster homes I had been assigned the worst room, at times I'd had to share, there had been no little luxuries like my own wardrobes and definitely no computer, TV and video for my own personal use. There had to be a catch, but I was damned if I could see it. No doubt it would make itself known in time, for the present I decided to enjoy it while I could. Grinning to myself I opened my case and put the entire contents in one drawer of the chest of drawers, unpacked I lay back on the bed and whiled away a few minutes before making my way downstairs.

"We're in here." Mrs. Wilson's voice greeted me as I reached the foot of the stairs.

Following the sound of her voice I entered what had to be the living room of the place, Mr. Wilson was lounging in an armchair while Mrs. Wilson was busy at a bar.

"Sit down son." Mr. Wilson grinned at me.

"Would you like a coke?" Mrs. Wilson asked from the bar.

"Uh, yes." I replied as I sank into an armchair.

"So," Mr. Wilson said, "how do you like the room?"

"It's okay." I replied.

"Not quite what you expected though." he grinned, "Never mind. Let's start by telling you that the S.S. warned us that you were a problem child."

I sighed as I awaited the usual lecture about 'behaviour' and 'manners', Mrs. Wilson handed me a coke, gave her husband a glass of what looked like scotch and sat down on the couch with a glass of clear liquid in her hands.

"Which was why we agreed to take you." Mrs. Wilson smiled over at me.

"Huh?" I responded brilliantly.

"It's like this," Mr. Wilson laughed, "I know that you've probably been shoved from home to home, you've had to share rooms or been stuck in the worst room, any kid would be rebellious after that. I know, I've been there. Here's the proposition, you be yourself, if we can get along for six months Mona and I will apply for adoption, does that sound fair enough to you?"

I was gob-smacked; I was being offered a permanent home if I could behave myself for six months. Now I knew I was dreaming, but I could be sweetness and light for that long for that kind of offer.

"Don't get the wrong idea," Mr. Wilson grinned at me, "I know you can act the little angel if you want, but that's not what we want. We want you to be yourself, not the obnoxious little sod you pretend to be or a 'goody-goody' suck up, just you, warts and all."

This was even more of a surprise, I wasn't sure I could be 'myself' for I no longer knew who I was, but I was willing to try.

"I'll try." I replied.

"Good lad." Mr. Wilson grinned, "It will be hard to start with, after so many foster homes I doubt if you know the real you, but now is the time to find out. You never know, you may find that you like yourself. Now then, we know you are Mark Turner, obviously we will call you Mark, in return you must call me Tom and my wife Mona."

"Okay," I replied with a half grin, "but can I ask a question?"

"Fire away," Tom grinned, "if you don't ask you'll never learn."

"How come...well why..." I faltered, "that is you and Mona..."

"Ah," Mona laughed, "how come a young dolly bird like me married an old foggy like Tom?"

"Well, yes." I said.

"Easy," she laughed, "I love him. Don't let the wrinkles fool you Mark, Tom is lively in most respects and it's his personality I love not his body."

"And here I was thinking it was my body you were after." Tom laughed.

"That too." Mona grinned, "Anyway, does that answer your question Mark?"

"Uh, yes." I replied.

Despite myself I was forced to grin at the way Tom and Mona talked to each other, their relaxed attitude made me relax and for the first time I looked forward to settling into a home. In an easy manner the pair of them asked me about myself and I replied to their questions truthfully, something I had not done since I had been seven, in return they told me a little about themselves. The time passed quickly and I was surprised when Mona stood up and headed for the kitchen, I was even more surprised to discover that it was already seven in the evening.

"Time has a habit of flying by when you are having fun." Tom grinned.

"I, uh, suppose so." I responded.

Tom laughed at my uncertain answer, a few minutes later Mona wandered back into the room.

"Right," she said, "dinner will be ready in half an hour. I'm having another drink. Do you want another Tom?"

"Love one." he replied.

"What about you Mark?" she asked.

I was tempted to ask for a scotch, I had discovered I liked scotch when I was twelve and had drunk it as often as I could ever since.

"Of course he will," Tom laughed, "you look like a scotch man to me."

"Yes I am," I responded in surprise, "but how...?"

"I learnt to drink when I was eleven," he grinned, "the foster family I was with never did figure out that it was me swiping the scotch."

"Neat or with a mixer?" Mona asked with a smile.

"Neat please." I grinned eagerly.

"Good man." Tom beamed, "It'll put hairs on your chest."

Mona sorted out the drinks and handed them round, this time I knew what she was drinking as I'd seen her fill her glass from a vodka bottle. Sipping my drink I wondered what we were going to have for dinner then grinned over my glass as I realised that I felt eager for the first time in a foster home.

"So," Mona grinned at me, "you drink. Do you smoke as well?"

"Only if I don't use Vaseline." I responded without thinking.

For a moment I thought I'd blown it, but to my surprise they both started laughing.

"The old one's are still the best." Tom laughed heartily.

"How about cigarettes?" Mona laughed.

"No," I said with relief, "I tried them and didn't like them."

"And girls?" Tom laughed.

"I haven't," I replied with embarrassment, "well you know. Nearly did, but I got caught and was sent to another home."

"Don't worry about it son," Tom grinned, "we all get caught at one time or another. Anyway, there's no need to feel embarrassed about the subject, especially in this house."

By that time dinner was ready and we retired to the kitchen to eat it, Mona was a good cook and I enjoyed the casserole she had made to the point of having seconds, which pleased both of them. Mona and Tom did the dishes then we all went back into the living room where we chatted for the next three hours; three hours that passed like minutes. Just after eleven Tom looked at me and grinned.

"Time for bed young man," he said, "you've school tomorrow."

Reluctantly I went up to my room, got undressed and climbed into bed, I had just pulled the cover over me when there was knock at the door.

"Come in." I called.

Mona looked at me from the doorway; over her shoulder I could see Tom grinning at me.

"Goodnight Mark." Mona smiled, "If you need anything we are just across the hall."

"Night son," Tom said, "sleep tight."

"Goodnight." I smiled back at them.

So ended my first day with the Wilson's, surprisingly I got to sleep almost immediately and didn't wake until Mona came in to get me up the following morning.

It took the Wilson's less than six months to decide that they wanted me as their son, I was no angel, but they liked that. As for me I had found myself growing to like them more and more with each passing day, Tom was fair, but firm and I respected him for that, Mona was gentle and kind and I liked her a lot. Under their influence I became less of a 'problem', I got into less trouble until it reached the point that the only trouble I got into was punch-ups at school and Tom laughed these off while Mona cleaned up my bruised knuckles. Three months after I had arrived with them the Wilson's applied for adoption, a month later it came through and I found myself with a family of my own at long, long last. The timing was perfect, I became legally adopted on the first day of the school summer holiday.

"Let's celebrate." Tom laughed as we left the court, "How about a slap up feed at the chinkies followed by a few bottles of booze and a night of debauchery?"

"Sounds great to me." Mona laughed back, "What about you Mark?"

"Great," I grinned, "only what's debauchery?"

"Try getting pissed out our skulls." Tom laughed.

"Sounds good to me." I grinned.

The meal was good, with the meal we drank Sake, which I found that I liked, I also found out that it was potent stuff and snuck up on you when you weren't looking. From the restaurant we went home by taxi, I felt half-cut as I flopped onto the couch grinning like a village idiot. Tom poured the drinks with a heavy hand then handed them around.

"You're trying to get me pissed." Mona commented as she took her glass.

"Guilty." Tom grinned, "Anyway, let's close the curtains while we can still find them and get down to a good debauch."

I helped them close the curtains and lock up the house before we returned to the living room and our full glasses, we toasted each other and in a short space of time our glasses were no longer full. This didn't faze Tom for one moment; he just filled them again then wandered over to the shelf where all the videos were kept.

"What do you think Mona?" Tom asked peering at the top shelf.

"You choose," she grinned at him, "how about something that has a bit of everything."

"A bit of everything it is." Tom laughed reaching for a tape.

Knowing that the top shelf was all porn videos I grinned, though I had not been restricted I had not taken anything from the top shelf to watch in my room so I was eager to see what they were like. Mona sat on the floor as Tom put the tape in the player and turned it on, grinning broadly he joined her on the floor then looked over his shoulder at me.

"You all right up there?" he asked.

"Fine." I grinned as the film started.

From the first minute to the last I was glued to the screen, half of what I saw seemed unbelievable, the rest almost so, but it was all exciting and I soon had a raging erection. Tom and Mona's comments only added to the excitement and when the film was finished I found myself staring stupidly at the empty glass in my hand, a glass I didn't remember draining. Raising my eyes I looked at Mona as she got to her feet, pissed and randy as I was I thought her the most desirable thing on the planet, my eyes followed her as she crossed the room to the bar to pour some more drinks while Tom put the video tape away. My attention was dragged away from Mona when Tom began laughing, I looked at him and he winked, blushing I realised that Tom knew the thoughts running through my sozzled brain.

"No need to blush," Tom laughed, "I'm having the same thoughts myself."

"You never stop having them." Mona commented as she handed him his drink.

Wide-eyed I watched Tom stroke her backside before she came to give me my drink, bending forward she handed me my glass with a broad grin. Straightening she looked over her shoulder at Tom and wriggled her hips.

"Come and sit down you randy old goat." She laughed.

Laughing Tom crossed the room and sat beside me on the couch, I couldn't help but laugh along with them as I wished that the night would never end. Crossing to the music centre Mona started a CD playing, the music was slow yet had a deep, sensual beat to it and Mona stood swaying in time to that beat.

"Oh ho," Tom laughed, "you're in for a treat son."

"Shall I?" Mona asked with a sexy smile.

"Hell yes!" Tom replied heartily, "I'm sure Mark will have no objections."

To be honest I was a little confused about what was going on, wondering what I might object to I settled back and ogled Mona some more while Tom leant forward in his seat. A split second later I was leaning forward and staring goggle-eyed, as in time to the music Mona had reached behind her and opened her dress, gulping down my scotch I watched her sexily slide the material down her body, step out of it and toss it onto an armchair.

"Enjoying it?" Tom asked from beside me.

"You bet!" I laughed as Mona opened her bra.

Grinning Mona teased us before tossing the bra on top of the dress; lustfully I stared at her ripe tits, my cock becoming harder in the confines of my trousers.

"More, more!" Tom laughed.

Turning her back to us Mona slid her panties down her legs, bending at the knees so that we saw nothing of her pussy as she removed her panties, twirled them over her head then tossed them onto the armchair. Teasingly slowly she turned to face us with her hands covering her pussy, removing one hand she cupped a tit and grinned at us, then she moved her other hand and I sighed at the sight of her neatly trimmed pubic hair. Laughing Mona turned around and bent over from the waist to grasp her ankles and I stared wide-eyed at her pussy revealed in all its sexy glory.