What Would Rachel Do?

What would Rachel do?

That's probably the question I should be asking myself. She is, after all, my mentor and my guide. And it might just be that she's blonde but from the sound of things happening over to one side of me and the volume of her moans it is very clear that she is having more fun than me, which is impressive to say the least because I am having a whole hell of a lot of fun.

But still basing what I did off of what Rachel was doing or would do in my place was not a good idea.

Rachel was not me. Emily was not Rachel. We didn't have nearly the same experience that she did, didn't have the same kind of freedom. We hadn't, for lack of a better term, rid ourselves of the obligation of a first time yet.

I was still a virgin, and in spite of my desires I knew I couldn't quite give in as easily as I might want to.

Part of me wanted to make it something special, something memorable. And nothing about rolling around in a field with a guy I'd met that very same day spoke to special in any kind of way. The dirt and the rutting like animals and the brief little bit of shame as I made the walk home with my hair mussed and grass stains on my pretty white dress, well as fun as that might sound it also sounded just as much like regret to me.

So I couldn't, right? Not tonight, right? Not with him.

Right?

Jake runs his hands up my body and as he does he draws my dress up my thighs and nearly over my hips. The cool air of the night kisses skin that has never been this exposed before and I shiver, clenching my thighs but only succeeding in locking myself around his hips.

He moves on me and his touch is not gentle. Each brush of his hand over my body shifts my dress on me, twisting and turning it and drawing one inch after another of my skin exposed as I swallow hard and draw my hands back down his hard firm body until they're locking into the belt on his pants.

I remember the cock that I sucked this afternoon. I remember how thick and how long he was and how good he fucking tasted. I remember the way he grabbed me and used me for his pleasure, the almost careless way he fucked every inch of his cock into my mouth and I remember how good it all felt.

To submit to him.

Like I was getting closer to right now.

Jake doesn't know any of the **** wrestling through my mind and hell he doesn't even know that I'm still a virgin. If anything my actions to date have painted rather the opposite picture for him and that's a truer statement than even I realized.

Because I'm not the girl he wanted, not a pretty young sporty thing. And I'm not easy either, or haven't been. Or maybe I am but... god it's all so confusing.

And in my confusion I barely even register what he's doing before he's already gone and done it. Spun me around and laid me on my back and he's overtop of me now, the hefty weight of his bulk pinning me back against the blanket and the cold ground beneath it.

But I'm warm as he kisses me and warmer as he runs his hand up and over my shoulder and tugs at the strap of my dress. And I'm burning hot as he peels it off of me and down, exposing my bra and my cleavage to the nights sky and his eyes as he stares down at me for an instant before reaching behind and deftly flicking the clasp on my bra to that it loosens as he pulls and peels it off of me.

That's when instinct kicks in for me.

That's when I react.

That's when I go and do something I don't know if I can even help.

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