I have been observing her for so long. I really did think of her innocently at first, believe it or not. Ever since I first got to know her at the age of 16, I have felt a deep sense of affection for her and a desire to protect her. To save her from any further pain. She had a sadness in her eyes that comes with having needed to mature way before her age.
I convinced my wife to let Molly babysit for us because I knew she could use the money. I didn't know how else to help her. I figured my obsession with her was because she was fatherless and that I would grow to think of her as my own. Except, she grew up. Became a woman. Her breasts became fuller and I guess she's the type of girl who feels empowered to not wear bras and let her nipples poke through. My wife has always been the same way so it wasn't strange to either of us. It wasn't until Molly turned 22 that I truly allowed myself to give in and admit what I really felt for her.
This was around the time that my wife started traveling a lot more for work. I missed her in the house. But I missed more that she was not around to take care of my children. I always felt most loved by my wife when she was being a good mother. To me the two were the same. If she was being a good mother, it meant that she was treating all of us well. She also stopped communicating with me and overall put in way less effort into our relationship.
I say all this because if I didn't see Molly taking care of my children so well. Doing it all so selflessly, sincerely and with a motherly love in her eyes that was undeniable, I don't think I would be so intensely attracted to her. Just seeing Molly working in my house, being there for my children and even bringing me meals which we never asked her to do, filled me with affection and warmth. As she walked around with her perky breasts and nipples on show, I just admired her beauty and soft innocence. I couldn't deny my lust any longer. I would get hard just by her presence in my home. Molly often stayed back and used our guest room and bathroom as things were not stable at her home.
One night, she was simply clearing up the kitchen. But the way she moved it felt like she was dancing around, her hair whipping from side to side. I had a clear view of her from my study and I started touching myself. I stared at her and stroked myself until I came all across my pants. I couldn't move. I knew I had crossed a line all on my own and there was no going back.
Later that night I invited Molly to come watch TV with me on the couch. Trust me, I cared more about her happiness and comfort than my raging desire for her body. I just hoped that I could be the one to please here. I asked her, "Molly, are you doing okay? I haven't asked about how things are at home in so long. Please feel free to stay here as long as you like if it helps."
She answered, "Thanks Mr. White. You've always been so kind."