Freshman Ch. 05: Convinced

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'm back, baby! I apologize for my extended absence; it wasn't what I had intended. If you care to know more, I wrote it up in my profile. If you don't care about such nonsense and you just want to finally get back to Rachel blowing some lucky guy, please proceed!

PREVIOUS -- Chapter 4: Extension

CHAPTER 5

I think the most important takeaway from reading The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels was that...

Rachel sighed. Her fingers twitched over the keyboard, tapping gently to the rhythmic blinking of the cursor on the screen. She'd been sitting at her desk for forty-five minutes and this was as far as she'd gotten into the assignment. An assignment that was due in less than two days. She smirked and started typing.

...was that the entire thing was bullshit and incredibly boring.

She rolled her eyes and deleted the sentence. Sighing, she bit her lip thoughtfully as her thumb ran idly over the spacebar. Her senses tingled suddenly and her mouth spread into a playful grin. She narrowed her eyes and began typing again.

...was that I should probably just give you another blowjob and stop wasting my time writing this paper.

Rachel tingled again and stared at the sentence for a few seconds. The memory of that afternoon in Professor Davis' office made her stomach flutter. She still couldn't quite come to grips with how ridiculously crazy it had all been. Not just the pure, hot insanity of the act itself, but the line which she'd crossed. Sucking her teacher's dick. In his office. It was like a cliché ripped straight from the pages of a fantasy novel.

Almost a month had gone by and she still wondered what went through his head every time she entered his classroom and took her seat. Each moment of passing eye contact sent shivers to her fingertips. She knew he had to be thinking about it. But she wondered how the thoughts were slanted. Was he filled with regret? Shame? Did her presence now intimidate him? Or did he want her again? Perhaps this current assignment could be taken care of rather painlessly...

Rachel smiled involuntarily at her own silly thoughts and shook her head. No. That afternoon had been an insane, fantasy-fueled aberration. She wasn't going to get through college by getting on her knees every time an annoying assignment popped up. It was reckless and cheap and guaranteed to end in disaster. Plus, she technically hadn't even done such a thing with Professor Davis anyway. She'd written that dumb paper all along. She'd perhaps used him to fulfill a fantasy but she hadn't simply purchased a free grade with her mouth. She wasn't that girl.

Another smile traced across her lips, this time accompanied by a shameful cringe. She'd barely gotten halfway up on her moral high-horse before the haunting images of her past pulled her back down. She shut her eyes and smirked as an old classmate's face popped into her brain. Zachary. The awkward, nerdy boy with whom she'd brokered just such a salacious bargain when she'd found herself floundering academically in the midst of her emotional spiral in the spring.

Facing a failing grade and no prospect of fixing it on her own, she'd agreed to make it worth Zachary's while (in an oral sense) if he completed a couple of chemistry lab assignments for her. Her eager partner had come through as promised and Rachel, in turn, had certainly made good on her end. She'd led him into a bathroom stall and forever changed his world, skillfully treating him to the first blowjob of his virgin life. And when he'd earned them both an A+ on their next report, she'd let him drive her after school to a secluded spot she knew about where she'd removed her clothes, leaned over his lap, and spent several, drawn-out minutes generously rewarding his efforts.

The memory stung her senses but it conjured more silly embarrassment than it did dread or regret. Honestly, of all the self-demeaning things she'd done over that stretch, at least that specific arrangement had tossed some tangible benefit her way. She'd passed the class by the skin of her teeth and it had been Zachary's help that had gotten her over the line. And in a broader sense, the entire sordid semester no longer felt suffocating in memory. It was just something she'd gone through. She certainly didn't look back at it with glowing pride, but she'd made her peace. The edges were no longer razor sharp. They tickled at her gut, rather than drew blood.

Opening her eyes with a deep breath, Rachel scowled as the glowing screen of her laptop brought her back to the moment. All that her exciting little trip down memory lane with regards to Professor Davis (and her slightly less-pleasant but still strangely arousing detour to Zachary) had accomplished was to re-confirm that the only way her paper was going to get done was if she actually trudged through the pain of doing it herself. She gritted her teeth and forced her fingers back to the keys. What a fucking chore...

The slippage of time far outpaced Rachel's productivity and it was nearly midnight before she stopped to assess it all. She glared menacingly at the clock in the bottom corner of the screen and then back at her embarrassing lack of progress. She was barely two pages into the eight-page minimum and even that had been a tedious grind. Her eyes flicked over to her side as her phone lit up and buzzed on the desk. She swallowed and shook her head. Another text. Perfect.

It happened to be a Saturday night, and for once, Rachel had decided to take the responsible path and sacrifice an evening of fun in favor of buckling down and getting her work done. Stephanie had gone home for the weekend (something about her younger brother having a football game) so Rachel had the room all to herself. The setting was perfect, and despite her imperfect history, she really did relish the idea of not always scrambling to get things done at last minute.

But as she stared at her insufficient efforts on her screen, it made her angry all over again. Rebecca had mercilessly mocked her study plans and now it was beginning to seem like her best friend had been right. She was one-quarter of the way through the paper. She'd given up a fun Saturday night out for this?

With a sigh, Rachel twisted her lips and hastily pushed her laptop shut. If she wasn't going to make any progress, she might as well just call it a nigh and get some sleep. Burning out her retinas and absorbing the onslaught of Rebecca's teasing text messages was just masochistic at this point. And throwing on a dress and making a late entrance would only lead to a wicked hangover and an exceptionally painful Sunday since she still had most of the assignment left to complete. She smirked and shook her head as her thoughts crept back to her professor. She'd already been down that road once before...

She pushed into the hard wood of her chair and cracked her back, letting her eyes drift over the room. If there was one saving grace, it was that it had been nice to have a little stress-free alone time in the dorm. Things with Stephanie hadn't gotten worse, but they hadn't much improved either. Their relationship was mostly cordial, and at times Rachel almost felt like they were turning a corner into a more easygoing, natural friendship. Steph would unexpectedly open up about something or come back from class in a cheerful mood. But then the next day she'd be cold and distant. She'd drop some ambiguous comment that Rachel just couldn't quite decode.

The strangest thing about Stephanie seemed to be that while she clearly seemed to pass judgment on Rachel's lifestyle and choices, she simultaneously acted weird when the girls had separate plans. She'd roll her eyes at her roommate's whimsical suggestion that they blow off a Friday afternoon and start drinking, but then afterwards, passive-aggressively ask if Rachel had "had fun" with a touch of hurt in her tone. And then she'd clam up and spend another day barely speaking.

And perhaps the largest dose of irony came in the complicated realm of boys. Steph had quite certainly treated Rachel's relationship with Josh with disdainful condescension. And yet, she was currently involved in what appeared to be a similar set of circumstances with one of his friends. Rachel had (from the very beginning) found her hookup with Vince to be strange and hypocritical. And now they seemed to be more-or-less "dating" (although Steph would not commit to such a classification). They were together a lot and Vince had showed his face at least weekly at their dorm.

Rachel narrowed her eyes as she thought it all over. The whole thing was weird. Vince was this loud, obnoxious, fun-seeking creature, and while Steph certainly had an unexpected party-goer streak that reared its head from time to time, they just didn't seem each other's type. It was a bit of a conspiracy theory, but Rachel sometimes wondered if Stephanie even liked him at all and if she had merely sought him out in some sort of twisted rivalry sense. Like, despite her thinly-veiled scorn towards Rachel and Josh, she was competitively duplicating what they'd had earlier in the year.

It didn't help that Rachel wasn't in love with having Vince inserted into her life more and more. Dovetailing with her theory that perhaps Steph wasn't even all that into him, Vince, too, had made his own little displays depicting a commensurate lack of investment. He wasn't shy about keeping his eyes on Rachel when he swung by to see Steph. And there were certainly times when she hadn't been dressed in the most appropriate of ways. Whether it was heading out for a run in her spandex shorts or returning from the shower with a towel clutched over her cleavage, Vince never seemed to miss an opportunity to offer a lecherously approving glance.

The thought forced a shiver through her veins and Rachel shook her head as she pushed back from her seat and stood up. It's not that there was anything really offensive about Vince; he could just be a lot. He was big and imposing he had the loud, meathead football player archetype down to a T. Rachel had known a few boys like him over the years and her interactions with them had certainly been mixed.

Smirking and wondering why exactly it was that she was spending any brain power on the topic, Rachel finally moved on. Flexing her toes and taking a few steps across the room, she settled in in front of her dresser and mirror and gazed idly at her reflection as she began to prepare for bed. Her loose sweatshirt came up over her head and landed on the floor, followed by her gray cloth shorts. With only her underwear remaining, she hesitated for a moment, pivoting her figure and glancing approvingly at the image reflecting from the glass. Smiling, she unsnapped her bra and let it fall from her fingers. Her hands slid upward automatically as she gave her boobs a soothing squeeze. A sigh slid happily from her lips. It always felt so good to take her bra off for the night.

Reaching into her drawer, she retrieved a soft white camisole and slipped it smoothly over her torso. Turning back towards the mirror, she gave the exposed stretch of her stomach a gentle rub. She was in great shape. Probably the best of her life. College field hockey had brought an entirely new level of intensity and she'd been forced to do conditioning that she'd never bothered with in high school. Her legs and stomach were tight and toned, and her large, enchanting breasts remained as inhumanely perky as ever.

She tingled as her eyes traced over the full indent of her nipples through the thin, stretched material of her top. Her boobs were certainly beginning to earn some notoriety around campus, a reality birthed from her fateful decision to lose her inhibitions (and her top) in a certain hot tub at a big party earlier on in the year. The display had not been discrete and the few dozen or so people who'd been present had certainly served as the kindling for the beginning of a rumor brush fire.

Not that rumors were anything new to her either. Tales of her jacuzzi nudity had been amplified and exaggerated as they'd spread. In one version she'd basically put on a strip tease dance session for all the members of the hot tub, and in another she'd fucked the boy she'd been with while everyone had watched. But unlike the suffocating and soul-piercing whispers that had pushed her to the brink in the spring, these ones barely bothered Rachel at all. If anything, they filled every inch of her body with shivery excitement. They weren't stories sourced from one of the truly worst things she'd ever done. They were simply building blocks to a caricatured reputation that Rachel did not mind inhabiting in this fun new chapter of her life.

As the thoughts tickled her senses, Rachel switched off the main light and slipped comfortably into her bed. The memories drifted from the hot tub night to a very pleasurable extension of the event: Caleb. Rachel smiled to herself and squeezed her thighs together automatically as she pictured his face. Snuggling her cheek into the soft depth of her pillow, she let the images flow.

She'd hooked up with Caleb in the library just two days after that hot tub party. She'd been buzzing with itchy arousal, and when she'd spotted him studying at a nearby table, she'd pounced without a second thought. Something about his powerful display of authority that night had gripped her deeply in her gut. She'd barely exchanged ten words with him but the impression had been impactful.

With almost comical bluntness, she'd simply thrown herself at him at the library that day. She'd played up the gratitude angle of wanting to repay him for his help at the party during her mini-altercation with Vince. Caleb had gotten the hint and he'd wasted little time escorting his bubbly freshman prize up to a secluded part of the stacks where she could fully demonstrate the extent of her thanks.

Rachel's closed eyes twitched behind their lids as another tremor snuck down between her legs. While blowing Caleb in the library that afternoon had been wild and exciting, it hadn't been the extent of their encounters. She smiled to herself as she recalled the way they had parted that day, Caleb playfully hinting at the potential for a future get-together back at his hot tub and Rachel teasingly implying that she might not be opposed to such an idea.

The memories cradled her with warmth and Rachel soon fell peacefully asleep. But her crossover into the realm of the subconscious did not end the movie playing in her head. Her brain, already primed by the exciting foreplay of her pre-slumber thoughts, took the baton seamlessly and accelerated down the track.

Her dreams were deliciously vivid and captivating and soon Rachel was pleasurably lost in their depth. She could see herself at Caleb's house that night, pleasantly drunk after an alcohol-fueled Friday evening. She'd been leaving a party when she'd received his text message, a not-unsubtle suggestion that she come over for a purpose similar to their prior rendezvous. Rachel had become temporarily separated from her friends and her intoxicated state had left unsure of where she even was or how to get home. Caleb had given her his address and told her to get in the next cab she saw. He'd assured her that paying for the ride would be his pleasure.

Not long after, she was stepping out of a car onto the curb in front of his place. Her head swimming and her coordination a bit impaired, she'd smiled up at the house that had served as the scene of her first non-Josh college hookup. Caleb had texted her that he was out back and for her to just let herself in. Moving carefully, she'd followed his instruction.

She'd eventually found her way out onto the familiar back deck where Caleb had greeted her from the hot tub with a friendly shout. He and another guy (one of his roommates) were drinking beers and they both beckoned Rachel to join.

It hadn't taken much convincing and soon Rachel had stripped down to her underwear and slid her way gingerly into the warm, bubbly water. She'd accepted a drink of her own (which she certainly had not needed) and exchanged jokes and flirty conversation with the two senior boys. Most comments revolved around her body and state of undress and Rachel had absorbed it all with glowing pride. She was drunk and giggly but coherent enough to comprehend the tone and mood. And she was entirely turned on.

At some point Caleb's roommate had made a comment about her getting topless since he'd heard "that's what she does in their hot tub." Rachel had giggled and chewed her lip, playing coy about the party incident and innocently stringing the query along. She'd asked why it was necessary to do it again if everyone had already seen the first time, to which the boy had claimed he had not been present and had tragically missed the widely-discussed spectacle.

Giggling again at the playful hurt in his eyes, Rachel had eventually capitulated and given him what he'd wanted. Submerging herself up to her chin, she'd slipped off her bra and let it dangle teasingly from her fingers. After making him squirm for a few delightful moments, she finally arose from her bubbly covers and revealed her large, perfect breasts, letting them rest in full view just above the surface.