Lie Father Pt. 01

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*

*****

PREVIOUS -- Chapter 6: Equilibrium

CHAPTER 7

Excerpt from Preludes Ch. 8: Lost Connection

Greg stiffened and cursed under his breath as Rachel's cool fingers wrapped around his cock and began to give it a few friendly tugs. He was already rock-hard and no further warming up was necessary. In fact, despite the amazing sensation of her grip, he found himself wishing she'd just get to it with her mouth since he wasn't sure just how long he was going to be able to hold out.

Rachel picked up on his signals and she was about to bring her soft lips to his lap when her eyes shifted involuntarily back to the picture on the desk. The image of Greg's handsome father, combined with her presence in his office for a sexual purpose, again flooded her brain with exciting thoughts. Dirty thoughts.

She knew Greg was desperate for her to get started, but she simply couldn't help herself. She spoke out in a purring in a curious, playful tone.

"Greg?"

She bit her lip and grinned thoughtfully as she continued to gently jerk him.

"Um, what does your dad do again?"

Greg's head spun and he looked down at the girl between his legs like she was utterly insane. She'd appeared to be seconds from ending his torture, and now she was asking questions? About his dad? He shook the cobwebs and tried to respond evenly.

"What? Rach, what the fuck? What does that have to do with-?"

Rachel cut him off with an innocent squeal.

"Just tell me! I wanna know!"

Greg's head spun again as his blood-deprived brain tried to reboot.

"Jesus Christ. Um, shit, he's like, a sales, um-. He's in sales. He works for a technology comp-."

Rachel cut him off again as her eyes flashed.

"So, does he have like, an office or-? I mean, um, why does he have this room?"

Greg sucked in another wild breath and shook his head incredulously.

"What? Fuck, um, no-. I mean, yeah, but he doesn't really go into the office. He, uh, works from here most of the time but he's like, on the road a lot."

He looked down at her wildly, hoping she was finished.

Rachel felt herself surge as Greg confirmed that his dad did most of his work right there. Right where she was kneeling. She was so turned on by the idea. But she had one more question.

"Oh, okay. Um, that sounds like a lot of work. So, does he have like, a secretary or assistant or something?"

She bit her lip and squeezed her hand a little tighter around his shaft.

Greg was about to lose his mind. Unbelievable! What was with all the fucking questions? Why did she care about any of this? He sighed painfully and began to answer.

Just whatever it takes to satisfy her so she'll start using her mouth for something more useful

, he thought with irritation.

"Um, no-. Well, yeah, actually. He used to have a personal assistant a few years back. She helped him keep track of his schedule and shit like that. But that was a while ago."

He stopped and stared down at Rachel with a crazed smile.

"Rach, seriously, what the fuck? C'mon, you're

killing

me!"

Rachel smiled deeply as another tremor sliced through her stomach. She'd gotten what she'd needed. She knew this info would be enough for her to get herself off while she blew Greg. He had just again confirmed another piece of her fantasy: that his dad had some assistant-type who would "help" him down here in his little office.

Rachel slipped her free hand smoothly between her legs and touched herself. She gasped as she thought about Greg's dad locking the door after a hard day's work and sinking back into his chair with a smile. Then his assistant would kneel in front of him and give him a soothing blowjob to cap off the day. Rachel wondered if he even needed to ask or would his assistant just know it was time. She exhaled with shaking arousal.

He wouldn't have to ask

her

...

***

Well, this party turned out to be a fucking bust. Shit, Becca was right. She warned me. These frat things are always a waste of time. There's like, two cute guys in the whole place and then fifty drunk idiots who just want to hump your leg like horny Chihuahuas. Ugh, and it smells like weed mixed with vomit. And my drink is probably laced with something. And there's no one to-. Oh my GOD is this one STILL talking??

Rachel's inner monologue snapped off as she stared in disbelief at the boy in front of her. She'd been standing with him for it had to be ten minutes now and he was

still

going on and on about some terrible, boring sports story. She smiled politely and took a conservative sip from her red cup. She'd barely touched the suspicious punchy liquid all night.

"...and I mean like, it was

crazy!

Like, I've been in some big games before but, you know, we were down

twenty-seven

. In the

fourth!

I can't believe you don't remember that one! When did you graduate again?"

Rachel did her best to stifle the complete lack of interest that she was sure was rushing to her face. God, how did she get stuck with this complete trainwreck of a-.

"Um, last year. I'm a freshman at-."

The boy cut her off with a knowing shake of his head.

"Oh, that's right. You're a youngin."

He paused and grinned purposefully at Rachel. She did everything to avoid rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, so you'd have only been a sophomore that year. Still, kinda surprised you don't remember. It was a pretty big fucking playoff game. We went on to..."

Rachel's eyes glazed over as she again began to tune out what was sounding like the next chapter in her new friend's saga of inanity. It wasn't like she was world's hardest sell in the flirting department; her extensive history of ending up on her knees somewhere after a less-than inspired effort certainly bore that out. But hearing old sports "war stories" from some ex-high school jock was like giving her a full bottle of NyQuil. It was just so

so

boring.

As the boy continued to wax on about the glory days of old, Rachel began to plan her escape. She'd been at the party for an hour which, as she was now sadly discovering, had probably been about fifty-eight minutes too long. It was the very beginning of Christmas break and it had seemed like a good idea to drive across town to the local state university and kick the holiday off with something different. She'd tried to get Rebecca to come out with her but her best friend had certainly sniffed the case out accurately. But Rachel had been in a bouncy, energetic, and (if she was being honest) entirely horny mood all day so she'd decided to go anyway. Solo.

Given that schools were out of session, she had actually seen a smattering of familiar faces from years past. High school acquaintances home from their colleges. Girls she knew from years of playing field hockey. But no one really worth engaging.

She'd been cornered by the current disaster talking her ear off as she'd been making her way from the kitchen to the main living room. He'd pounced on her and offered to refill her drink which was already filled practically to the brim. Rachel had politely declined and tried to pivot away when he'd told her she looked familiar and then segued into his never-ending tale of gridiron glory.

Blah blah blah blah me blah blah blah quarterback blah blah blah touchdown blah blah fucking blah...

She was about to interrupt his words and find a polite way to excuse herself from the agony when, unexpectedly, a

new

voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Rachel.

Motherfucking

. Quinn."

Rachel shivered at the calling of her name and her senses tingled automatically. The voice sounded out from behind her and was altered by a bit of a slur. But it only took a second for her brain to place its owner. She grinned automatically and turned around.

"Oh my God!

Greg?"

Her grin widened as she focused her eyes on her old high school classmate's friendly smirk. Greg's eyes were a bit red and his cheeks certainly matched. She watched as his gaze darted quickly down from her face directly to her chest and then over the remaining curves of her figure. Her fingertips tingled and she blushed subtly. She was sure he was conjuring up some old images he'd kept in the memory banks. She'd definitely given him plenty of sexy material to choose from.

"Whattup, girl?"

Rachel watched his smirk widen into a bright smile as he opened his arms in her direction. She felt a sudden rush of happiness and excitement that she didn't expect. She realized it was probably just relief that a new human being was interrupting the snooze-fest story she'd been subjected to, but either way she moved forward quickly and stepped into his embrace. They hugged like old friends and she squealed as he seemed to purposefully squeeze her soft chest against his own for a beat too long before playfully tapping her on her ass. Pushing him back off her, she rolled her eyes and laughed.

"I see you haven't changed. It's been forever though! How are you?"

Greg smirked again and took a full swallow from the red cup in his hand. Twisting his lips, he shrugged and again let his eyes back flick down past Rachel's neck.

"Shit. Same old. Just been getting after it up at Eastern. Been home since Thursday so figured I'd roll by one of these parties."

He paused and indicated subtly to the boy standing behind Rachel and communicated without words.

Rachel read his non-verbal question and rolled her eyes fully to her hairline. Swallowing and leaning forward, she whispered as she pretended to brush something off of Greg's shirt.

"Oh my God. Fucking.

Nightmare

. I've been stuck here for like-. Can you save me? Please?"

She widened her eyes hopefully and bit her lip. In her leaned in position, she could smell the alcohol on him and she tingled as she watched his glassy gaze fixate blatantly on her cleavage. Greg had always had a thing for her boobs. Not that that made him very unique among boys she'd known. But his obsession had risen above most. She tingled again as a quick flashing of memories skipped by.

Greg grinned again and took another deep drink. He'd been hitting the keg pretty hard all evening and had reached the point of feeling no pain. It had been a fun night so far and he'd enjoyed being back in his hometown and catching up with some high school buddies. The only frustration he'd felt had been the lack of any suitable female targets to approach. Running into Rachel had been an unbelievable stroke of blind luck; he hadn't so much as spoken to her since the day they'd graduated. And as he stared unsubtly into the generously displayed portions of the nicest set of tits he'd ever seen or touched, the wheels in his booze-soaked brain began to turn.

Raising his eyes to meet hers, he widened his grin and winked.

"I got you, girl."

As Rachel smiled gratefully back, he adjusted his view to Rachel's new friend, whose face was now touched with a few lines of impatience. He nodded his head warmly.

"Hey, bro. Sorry to interrupt. Can I borrow her for one second?"

The guy furrowed his brow in confusion and was about to respond when Greg continued.

"I'll bring her right back. I promise."

He pointed back over his shoulder behind him.

"There's a few friends of ours from high school about to leave. They wanted to say hi real quick."

Rachel held her breath as the boy's gaze flicked between her and Greg. He obviously didn't appear very pleased at the prospect of letting a girl like her out of his grasp. She smirked to herself. As if she'd ever been in it in the first place...

Finally, he shrugged and nodded his head.

"Yeah, I mean, sure I guess."

He paused and smiled at Rachel, communicating his hope that she'd be returning soon.

"Don't be too lon-."

Greg smiled with over-the-top sweetness and cut him off.

"Thanks, chief. It'll only take a minute."

He put his arm around Rachel's waist and turned her gently to face the opposite direction. As the pair began to walk away, he grinned again and called back over his shoulder.

"In the meantime, maybe think of something interesting to say so that she'll actually wanna fuck you."

Rachel coughed aloud as Greg's unexpected zinger brought a reflexive smile to her lips. She tingled and felt warmth spread through her cheeks as she tightened her chest to contain any laughter from spilling out. She was glad her face was hidden from the boy she was leaving.

Jesus, Greg. Way to be subtle...

When they were safely in a different part of the house, she finally turned and smacked Greg in the ribs as she giggled and jokingly chastised him.

"Oh my God, what the hell was that?"

Greg scoffed and grinned back.

"What was what? Did I save you or not?"

Rachel smiled incredulously and shook her head.

"Well, yeah. But you didn't have to rub it in!"

Greg took another drink from his cup, this time emptying it. He took a quick look around before tossing it indiscriminately over his shoulder behind him. Letting his eyes wander again over Rachel's body, he shrugged.

"Whatever. Better the dude get the hint now."

He paused and raised a playful, curious eyebrow.

"Unless like, you actually were going to fuck him."

Rachel's mouth fell open again and she laughed out loud.

"What?? No! I wasn't going to fu-! Whatever. You're such a mess!"

Greg felt his pants tighten a bit as Rachel's playful uptick in intensity pulled a few memories of their "history" together back through his mind. He watched her bright green eyes sparkle as her familiar giggle rolled off her tongue. It had been over six months since he'd last seen her, but it suddenly felt no time had passed. He swallowed hard and steadied himself as the retreat of blood from his brain and the effects of his latest drink made his vision momentarily blur.

"Mess? You know, you'd think you'd be grateful."

Rachel rolled her eyes but softened her grin to a warmer variety. Greg was right. She

had

asked for his help. And he'd delivered.

"No, I am. Thank you. That guy was a disaster. In fact, this whole party has been pretty much a waste of ti-."

She cut off as she felt Greg's hand come suddenly to her shirt right over her ribcage. She inhaled reflexively and shot him a questioning look.

Greg read her face and simply grinned. He let his fingers glide up over the soft fabric of her shirt before bringing them to rest just under the outward expanse of her left breast. He'd obviously had far more explicit experience with her body in many ways, but the subtle softness greeting his touch sent a shockwave through his system. Arousing nostalgia flooded his veins.

"No doubt. So let's get the fuck out of here."

The root of every hair on Rachel's head pulsed with electricity as she processed Greg's words in combination with his playful touch. While the past semester of college had brought about any number of wildly arousing and exciting moments (some far beyond anything she'd experienced before), the surge she was feeling now had an entirely different flavor. And an explicitly familiar one at that.

She shivered as butterflies swarmed her belly. It had been a while since she'd let her mind travel down certain specific corridors of her past. Seeing, hearing, and now feeling Greg focused her thoughts sharply on the events of her fateful Senior Year spring. Such memories didn't grip her with the dread they once had, but they still very vividly registered an array of conflicting emotions.

She could still smell the distinct musty air of that stairwell she and Greg would go to during study halls. She could hear the echoes of footsteps a few flights up over their heads. And she could taste him in her mouth, his shaft pulsing with pleasure as she so casually worked him between her lips and eagerly sucked away until he'd come with a grateful shudder.

Rachel shook away her thoughts as she reentered the growing intensity of the present moment. Gathering herself, she rolled her eyes and licked her lips.

" 'Get out of here'? What are you talking about?"

Greg didn't hesitate as the familiar playfulness of her response reminded him of so many similar exchanges of the past. Keeping his one hand purposefully on the precarious position of her shirt, he swung his other arm behind her and pulled her body in close to his. As she squealed with surprise, he slid his grip down over the taut denim covering her ass and spoke again.

"You know what I'm saying."

Concurrent with his words, he finally took the plunge and slid his resting hand upwards directly over her chest. He squeezed in gently, inhaling as his fingertips registered the subtle scrunch of her bra collapsing around the softness of her breast. As his grip cupped her more fully, he felt his cock pulse in his jeans.

Rachel's mouth fell open and she whimpered softly as Greg put the punctuation mark on his words. Her brain went blank momentarily and then rebooted to the memory of the silly "dress code inspections" that he used to administer to her in high school as a comically unsubtle pretext for copping a feel as he was now. She could still recall the very first time he'd pulled such a stunt, catching her by her locker that day and so boldly feeling her up as she'd giggled along. She swallowed a tremor. She could also recall where that little episode had eventually led...