Authors Note: "The Rachel Chronicles" is a multi-part series of stories involving the titular character (a young woman named Rachel) and her various sexual adventures. The stories are themed mainly around oral sex, with the occasional tale involving other forms of sexual activity. Each chapter is somewhat lengthy and detailed and it is my hope that such detail will provide a richer experience for you readers as you truly get an intensive look inside Rachel's head.
Further, the stories are written in an intended order and it is
highly recommended
that you read them as such. Obviously, you are free to proceed as you please and I'm grateful that you would read any of them at all. But you will get a much fuller and more rewarding picture if you follow the stories along their natural progression.
PROM
is the first series, and while it is a little choppier (in my opinion) because it was my first effort, it is the main story from which the others are branched. So things will definitely be a little confusing (and surprises/themes ruined) if it is skipped over.
PRELUDES
is the follow-up and it deals with a crucial stretch of time that led to where Prom began. It weaves the two series together and fills in a lot of missing details and untold storylines that help explain how the events of Prom occurred and why Rachel may have acted in the ways that she did.
SENIOR WEEK
is the third installment and it details the week following the end of Rachel's senior year of high school. It explores some different aspects of Rachel's personality as she finds fun and trouble alike with faces old and new.
So, if you're not caught up, catch up! And if you are, welcome back! I don't think I really need to give any clues as to what
FRESHMAN
is about, but just to be safe, this series will follow the entire first year of Rachel's college experience. What had seemed like an impossible fantasy just a few months prior is now fully in her grasp. Will the freedom and euphoria of the life she'd prayed for lift her to new heights or will it consume her as she is unable resist her instinctual urges to charge recklessly ahead?
As always, I appreciate your ratings and comments and I welcome any and all feedback but understand that I am very sensitive, and if you're too harsh, I will delete everything from this site and never try to be creative again.
I'm kidding.
Enjoy!
*All characters in this story are 18 years or older*
**Bonus Author's Note:
I meant to include this with the Prologue, but for this series, the chapters are going to be submitted two weeks apart. This is for two reasons: 1) I still have a few rough edges to smooth out in later chapters and this will give me some cushion for having everything ready on schedule. All my prior series were finished at the time I submitted the first chapter but I didn't want to make you all keep waiting to get started here. And 2) this will allow the stories to more or less follow an actual school year in real-time which is something I've wanted to do but never been able to with the previous installments. Anyway, I hope the little bit of extra space isn't too annoying. Love you all. Enjoy!
PREVIOUS -- Prologue
CHAPTER 1
Rachel's brain whirred through a dozen instinctual calculations as she moved into a gentle backpedal and surveyed the scene in front of her. A line of sweat zig-zagged down over her forehead and into her eyes, forcing her to quickly blink and shake away the mild sting. Her thighs ached and her lungs burned, desperate for each grateful gulp of oxygen allowed. But this was no time to succumb to fatigue. She was waiting for something. For the exact right moment. For the-.
Her eyes widened suddenly and her back heel planted forcefully into the turf. She almost smiled.
Now!
Pushing powerfully through her calves, Rachel accelerated with blinding quickness back in the direction she'd just retreated from. She saw the play in her mind seconds before it began to unfold, and by the time her victims realized their mistake, it was too late.
Covering a half-dozen yards in almost no time at all, Rachel sliced in between the two defenders and deflected the attempted crossing pass with her stick. Controlling the ball skillfully, she angled her advance outward and raced in the direction of the opposing goal.
Shouts of alarm rung out across the field as recognition took hold that the play had just switched. A swarm of red shirts descended upon Rachel's position, attempting to corral the streaking silver blur and cut off her attack. Encouraging shouts from her own teammates joined the chorus and Rachel bit hard into her mouthguard as she continued to form her plan. She had the advantage and she knew it. It was just a matter of executing like she'd done hundreds of times before.
As she flew past the striking circle, she tilted her head towards the goal and widened further the angle of her approach. A lone defender was closing fast from the left and had just enough space to prevent a straight-on attack. Rachel glanced downward momentarily to check her control of the ball before refocusing her aim on the goal for her final calculations. Just as the defender approached and made a gasping lunge, she tightened her grip on her stick, cocked it back, and struck the ball with as much power and precision as she could muster.
The searing streak of white launched from the turf, gaining altitude as it whipped through the air with blinding speed. The goalie lunged back in the opposite direction that she'd been leaning and dove towards the far corner of her protected target. But she was too late. The ball whizzed by her padded reach and smashed into the side barrier of the goal with a crackling thud.
Adrenaline surged through Rachel's system as she smiled automatically and let out a triumphant shout. Raising her stick into the air, she circled back around and spread her arms as several of her teammates raced to embrace her. Three girls surrounded her in a sweaty, cheer-filled hug and Rachel's eyes danced with pride. All of the aches and burns and tiredness had been swept away as if she'd just stepped onto the field. She loved these moments. They were among her favorite things in life.
A loud whistle pierced the celebration, followed by a baritone voice booming out a single word.
"Quinn!!"
Rachel whipped her head around as she responded automatically to the calling of her last name. Her coach was an imposing figure. A large man who loved to yell and gesticulate as if one's worth was measured by the ferocity with which they expressed themselves.
Rachel stared silently in his direction trying to decipher his intent. She'd only been on the team for a few weeks but she liked him as a coach. She just didn't have a solid bead on him quite yet. The man was so loud and animated all the time and even when he wasn't angry, he still sounded like he was.
Coach Andrews' face stayed stoic and tense for a few long seconds before a subtle smile crept across his lips. Nodding and letting the whistle fall back to his chest, he cleared his throat and shouted out again, this time with a hint of approval in his voice.
"Helluva shot. Nice work."
Rachel's shoulders relaxed in relief and she grinned back at him with a responsive nod. One of her teammates patted her playfully on her back and they all broke into a mild jog towards the sideline. Practice was over and their short (but intense) intra-squad scrimmage had been the final event, with Rachel's goal capping the tilt.
The players huddled around their coach for a few final words as they caught their breath and rubbed their various aches. The fall semester had just begun a little over a week prior and the team's first game was coming up soon. Rachel was excited for that. She'd missed out on most of the preseason practices because she'd had to wait until her credits went through and she was officially admitted to the school. So it had been a thrill to finally be part of the team and back doing something she loved so much. She couldn't wait for the real bullets to start flying.
The practice ended with a combined cheer and the girls all began lazily making their ways back to the locker room. Rachel jumped slightly as an unexpected shoulder bumped her from behind, knocking her off her path. She turned and smiled back at Rebecca's playful grin.
"Nice shot, bitch. Glad you finally decided to help us out."
Rachel raised her brows and scoffed as she brushed a dampened strand of hair back from her face. To an extent that she could barely articulate, she loved that she was actually back playing her favorite sport with her best friend. The shock had not worn off yet in the slightest. Every day of practice felt like she was living out an actual dream.
But that didn't mean she was going to take Rebecca's shit. She'd scored two goals during the scrimmage. She was a freshman and she'd joined the team late, but it was fast becoming apparent that she was already one of the strongest players. Rebecca had made her own impressive impact as well, but Rachel had no problem putting her in her place.
"Well, you know, if you'd maybe like, bothered to stop them once, I wouldn't have had to do so much."
Rebecca glared back and attempted to shove her again, but Rachel sidestepped quickly and dodged the playful blow. The girls grinned and laughed and shook their heads. Life was good. And they both felt it.
The locker room greeted them with the familiar cacophony of clanging metal, running water, and competing conversation. The girls found their way to their adjoining lockers and made casual talk as they stripped down from their sweat-soaked practice jerseys and prepared to shower. It had been a hard day in the hot afternoon sun and surely every member of the team would be grateful for some soothing refreshment.
As Rachel reached the shower area and turned the dial on full-blast, she reflexively smiled again. Everything
really
was going so well. The uncertainty she'd felt over her future during the summer had given way entirely to the exciting promise of her next step. And the trauma of the spring, while still pointedly vivid at times, had faded into a nonthreatening haze. She still bore the scars of what she'd done and where it had all led, but it no longer felt like it could hurt her. It no longer felt like her life.
Ironically, it was only when she truly focused on the unbelievable wonder of her current world that she felt the needling sting of her past. It seemed practically impossible how everything had worked out and thinking about that couldn't help but force her brain down darker corridors. It was like seeing a boulder come crashing down across the road she was driving on just fifty feet ahead and knowing that if perhaps just one thing had gone differently, she might have been in its destructive path. It was simultaneously comforting and terrifying.
There but for the grace of God go...
Rachel smirked as she ran her hands over the soapy slickness of her body. She really hated to nitpick, but if there was just one teensy little complaint with the utter perfection of her life, it was her living situation. Due to her late admission, she had been unable to request a rooming assignment with Rebecca or one of the other incoming freshmen on the field hockey team. Instead, she'd been partnered up with a girl named Stephanie. And while things with Stephanie weren't know-it-from-the-first-moment terrible, there were certain tensions in the air that Rachel could sense.
Stephanie was a seemingly nice girl and there was nothing overtly offensive about her. They'd only been roommates for a few weeks, but it was apparent that she had a more rigid and serious outlook on life than Rachel did. She was very organized and very regimented to her schedule. She was a pretty in a proper sort of way and she and Rachel had gone out to a few initial parties together so it wasn't as if she was a totally buttoned-up shut-in. She just had far less of the happy go lucky spirit that literally defined her new roommate.
Rachel knew that part of her disappointment had to do with not being roomed with Rebecca. What an amazing time that would've been! Two best friends tackling their new adventure together in every single sense. Obviously, they shared field hockey and they were practically joined at the hip whenever time allowed, but it was different not living together. There was always an "end" to their fun. A splitting of their paths and a different place to return to.
