Freshman Ch. 07: Like Father Pt. 01

If the exuberance with which she was being guided didn't trip the alarm in Rachel's head, Greg's sudden moan did. As he broke away from the kiss and rolled his eyes back, Rachel stiffened on high alert. The groan was guttural and breathy. It didn't sound like an early expression of pleasure. It was more than that. It sounded closer to-.

Rachel's eyes widened and she moved quickly to throw the brakes on full-stop. As she slid her hand upwards over his shaft, she stiffened as her palm was greeted with a smear of slippery wetness. She set her jaw and stared frozen at Greg's tensing expression. Oh no. No no no no no! No you don't!

"Greg! Hold up, are you-? Wait, hang on! Sit up for a sec-!"

Rachel tried to retract her hand from his pants in attempt to stop what she feared was coming all too soon. But Greg was just seconds away and nothing was going to keep him from primal relief. Firming his grip on her hand, he held her steady in place, causing her fingers to squeeze in roughly around his throbbing head.

"Nah, feels so fucking good. Keep that shit go-ohhhh!"

Greg's breathless response cut off with a desperate groan and bucking of his hips. Rachel's eyes widened again as she felt his cock thrash in her hand. A warm flood cascaded over her wrist, followed by another euphoric groan. Too shocked to move or even think, she simply held still as Greg came repeatedly in her grip.

His hips tensed and shook for several seconds, but just as quickly as the whirlwind began, it died off with little fanfare. Rachel held her position, leaning partially over Greg's body, her legs squeezed up against his side and her left hand submerged fully under his shorts. She was still holding his dick and she could feel its final, meager twitches as it softened gently in her palm.

For what seemed like an eternity, only silence shrouded Rachel's senses. She could feel her heartbeat pounding and her brain sputtered as she tried to process exactly what had just happened. Greg's eyes were shut and his breaths came heavy and slow. A euphoric smirk settled on his lips.

Rachel blinked and finally came back to the moment as Greg's smirk unlocked her from her paralysis. She set her jaw and glared at him in disbelief. A mild twitch in her hand down below brought the warm, wet sensation back over her and she felt her stomach beginning to expand with some strange combination of anger and hilarity.

"Oh my God!"

Her voice hissed out through her tight lips as she scolded him with an incredulous whisper.

"Are you fucking serious? Did you really just-?"

She cut off as she spread her fingers and felt the sticky suction gently resist. Retracting her hand from Greg's waistband and she widened her eyes and swallowed at the physical evidence of his prematurity which coated her skin. His cum lay splattered from her wrist to the tips of her fingernails. She shook her head and swallowed again.

Greg opened his eyes slowly and grinned at her like he was waking up from a peaceful nap. His vision blurred severely and his brain only registered the humor of the situation.

"Oh my bad, girl."

He laughed stupidly and shut his eyes again, snuggling his head into the pillow.

"I mean, it's your fault cause-. I mean, you're so fucking hot and-. Fuck."

He licked his lips and attempted to focus on the double image of her face that reappeared as he opened his lazy lids.

"It's all good. Just give me a minute and, like-. For real."

He paused and winked at her stupidly.

"I know you were trying suck my dick. I'm sorry. I'll get that shit nice and good for you in a-. In a minute."

Rachel's ears tingled and she leaned back from him as she comprehended his drunken ramble. Oh, so it was all okay, huh? He would still let her blow him if she gave him a minute to recover? Her jaw tightened and she narrowed her eyes again. She was about to say something smart in response but she held her tongue and rolled her eyes. What good was yelling at him going to do? He was already on a different planet.

She sighed and glanced down at her hand again. Fucking Greg. He had been the one who'd approached her and set everything in motion. He'd gotten her all riled up and so ready to go. And now...?

Flicking her eyes momentarily downward at Greg's peaceful expression, she shook her head and grinned sheepishly. Despite the obnoxiousness of the "offer" he'd just made to her, Rachel did feel a little sense of tingly, shameful excitement that she'd probably actually do it if he was able. Her arousal was percolating and she was desperate for something to sink her teeth into. If he could just stumble his way into that office and plop his drunk ass down on the chair, she'd still get on her knees and do the deed.

But he was spent. And she knew it. Biting her lip, she shot her gaze around the room to locate a bathroom. She hoped there was one down in the basement so she didn't have to go upstairs and risk detection.

Good fortune smiled upon her, and after a few curious door handle turns, Rachel did indeed locate a powder room in the finished basement. She stepped inside and turned on the light, rolling her eyes again as the explicitness of her hand situation became even more pronounced. She ran the faucet and washed the evidence away, smirking again as she replayed the scene in her head.

When she was finished, she looked up at the mirror and took a moment to study her reflection. Her lips were a little red from Greg's enthusiasm and her hair was a bit messed up. But she still looked good. Straightening her shirt, she pulled a hair tie from her wrist and put her soft, blonde hair up into a messy pony tail. With a final smirk in the mirror, she turned and exited the bathroom.

Greg was practically comatose when she returned and she took a moment to form her plan. She needed to get a ride home. It wasn't all that late (by college standards) and she could probably get Rebecca to come get her. Or some other friend. She glanced downward at Greg and rolled her eyes as she realized his pants were still unzipped and pulled halfway down. A teasing whisper sounded out in her brain. You should leave him like that. A little payback for his anticlimactic climax.

Rachel grinned at the devil on her shoulder and shook her head. No, she wouldn't do that. She could at least get him comfortable and presentable for whoever greeted him in the morning.

Studying her surroundings, Rachel smiled as she located a blanket folded on top of a recliner a few feet away. She grabbed it and set it down at the foot of the couch. Smirking at Greg, she reached for the cuffs of his jeans and gave them a firm tug as she attempted to slip them off his legs. As the material pulled free, she folded his pants neatly and placed them on the floor.

The movement stirred Greg a bit and he rolled onto his side with a slurring smile.

"Eh you-. Damn, getting my pants off. You tryin' to get s-some more of that D, huh?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and laid the blanket gently over his body. She tucked the soft material around his shoulders and smiled to herself as Greg snuggled his face into the cushions like a little kid. She was about to turn to grab her jacket when she felt him swing his arm up towards her. He brushed her hand with his wrist and smiled through closed eyes.

"Just give me a min-. I swear. I'm gonna be so..."

He trailed off and swung his arm up clumsily behind his head. Rachel's eyes widened and she froze as she watched the scene unfold a split second before it happened. Greg's hand smacked firmly into a small lamp that sat on an end table abutting the couch. The lamp slid to the edge of the table and wobbled precariously. Rachel held her breath, but it was too late. She watched in horror as it tipped and fell heavily onto the tiled floor beneath it.

To Rachel's ears, the crash sounded every bit as loud as a bomb exploding. For several seconds she could only stare at the shattered glass in total, stunned silence. Her pulse banged in her throat. Her eyes shot instinctively up to the ceiling.

Finally snapping back into motion, she whipped her eyes to Greg and whispered out as harshly but quietly as she could.

"Shit! Greg! What did you do??"

She flicked her gaze all over him as he barely seemed to register at all what he'd done. He shrugged, halfway asleep and murmured mostly to himself.

"S'fine. S'fine. Don't worry about-. I don't give a shhhh..."

His mumbles disintegrated into a breathy snore as his jaw fell slack and he finally left consciousness for good. Rachel stared down at him in disbelief, unsure of what to do next. She looked over at the lamp and then back at him. And then at the stairs. She strained her ears and held her breath.

Hearing nothing for several long seconds, she grabbed her coat and slipped it on silently. She had to go. And fast. Shooting Greg one final look, she turned and moved quickly to the stairs. She eased her weight gingerly onto the first step when a sound made her heart stop.

Footsteps.

From above.

Spinning around and stepping back into the basement, Rachel chewed her lip and squeezed her temples in panic. Shit shit shit! Someone was coming! Someone had definitely heard the lamp!

She listened as the footsteps traced directly over her head and moved towards the top of the stairs. Think, Rachel! Fuck. Think!

The doorknob turned and the subtle creak of the door opening hit her ears. She glanced back at Greg and then back to the stairs. She shut her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts for just one deep breath of full concentration. She felt the air expand in her chest and then ease its way out smoothly. She smiled and opened her eyes.

She had an idea.

Turning quickly back towards the couch, she took two graceful glides over to where the lamp had fallen. She knelt down gingerly on the tiles and began brushing the broken pieces into a pile with her hands. Frozen in her position, she looked to the base of the stairs and held her breath.

It felt like a real-life horror movie as the descent of her soon-to-be discoverer seemed to last an eternity. Each plodding step became more pronounced. More sinister. She swallowed the dryness in her throat and tried her best to steady her nerves.

"Greg? Are you home? What was that noi-?"

The voice cut off suddenly as its speaker stepped to the landing of the stairs and processed the scene in front of him. His brows rose in sudden surprise and then narrowed.

Rachel had heard the words just before their owner finally materialized in front of her eyes. Her scalp tingled and the needles already poking at her nerves intensified fifty-fold. In the back of her mind, she'd already known who'd be coming down those steps. But seeing him made her stomach flood with butterflies.

Greg's dad.

Rachel studied the man standing not fifteen feet away from her as she tried to get ahold of her thoughts. Her gaze ran over him subtly. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of checkered flannel pajama pants. His face was tense but not threatening. His steely blue eyes firm, but light.

Realizing that it was time to act, Rachel took a final deep breath and gathered herself. Go ahead. You can do this.

"Oh my God, hi! I'm so sorry to disturb you!"

She paused and smiled sheepishly as she continued in the most apologetically innocent tone she had.

"Mr. Sanders, right? I'm Rachel. I'm-. I don't know if you remember me. I'm one of Greg's friends and-."

She cut off as she watched Greg's father flick his eyes over to his sleeping son and take a few steps into the room. A tremor cut through her stomach as she processed his tall figure approach her knelt position on the floor. Swallowing away the spark, she smiled and continued, pushing herself up to a stand.

"I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing here and-. I ran into Greg at a party and, um, he-."

She paused and sighed, angling her eyes meaningfully down to her feet in embarrassment.

"Look, I don't want to get anyone in trouble but, well like, Greg had had a few beers I think and he was trying to leave the party. That didn't, you know, seem like a good idea to me so I, um-. I offered to drive him home."

Rachel stopped and looked back up at Greg's dad as she held firm and attempted to gauge his reaction. He hadn't spoken the entire time. She watched his eyes again alternate between her and the couch and then back again. Finally, he tilted his chin and responded, his voice shrouded in stern, parental skepticism.

"I see. So you guys were out drinking and decided to sneak into my house?"

Rachel's stomach twisted with panic and she widened her eyes. Shaking her head wildly she moved quickly to deflect.

"No! No no! We weren't-. I didn't drink at all! I promise. It's not what you-!"

She paused again and twisted her face into her most convincingly pleading expression.

"Look, like I said, I don't want to get him in trouble. I just-. I just didn't think it was safe for him to be driving and I was trying to help. We're friends from high school."

She cut off and lowered her voice. Sniffing through her nose, she repeated herself softly.

"I was just trying to help."

Rich Sanders studied the young woman standing a few paces in front of him. He held his stern silence for a moment before a tickle of embarrassment skipped through his stomach. His expression softened and he swallowed tightly. When he'd come down the steps to see a strange girl in his basement with his son, his mind had gone to the obvious. Greg had thrown parties in the past and been caught doing other illicit things behind his back. He'd just assumed.

His eyes drifted over to the couch and he sighed again. His son was snoring heavily, his mouth agape and face wedged into the cushions. He leaned closer and felt his jaw tighten. God, he could smell the booze.

Glancing back at Rachel, he shivered again with shame as he processed her anxious expression. Christ. She'd actually gone out of her way to do the very thing that every parent prayed the friends of their children would do in her shoes: make sure their kid got home safely. And instead of thanking her, he'd sneered at her like she was a criminal.

"I'm sorry. No. Really, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. Thank you for making sure my idiot son didn't do anything even stupider than he already-.

He took a deep breath and smiled appreciatively as the girl looked back up into his eyes.

"Thank you."

Rachel beamed at his sudden change in demeanor as the tension slipped from her shoulders. She studied his face and felt another tingle snake between her thighs. She could still vividly remember the first time she'd seen his picture on that desk. And then-.

Shaking the dangerous thoughts away, she smiled back and nodded her head enthusiastically.

"No, of course! Like I said, Greg's a good friend and I just wanted to make sure he was okay. He was pretty, well, you know."

She smirked as she glanced down at Greg's snoring face. Smiling sheepishly again, she indicated over her shoulder.

"Oh, and sorry about the lamp. I was trying to get him to lie down, and he kinda flailed his arms. He, um-. It wasn't on purpose! He wasn't exactly like, in control."

She watched Greg's dad smirk and nod in comprehension. His eyes narrowed again as they landed on his happily comatose son.

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry you had to put up with that. I'll deal with it and him in the morning."

He stepped back and refocused on Rachel as he glanced around the room.

"Anyway, did say you drove his car? Do you need a ride home?"

Rachel tensed again as a bevy of excitingly dirty images flashed across her brain. Goosebumps shot up all over her arms and legs. She fought them back but an almost inaudible whimper escaped her lips as she felt her simmering arousal begin to bubble to the surface again. She needed to go before she-.

Pushing her nail sharply into her thumb to steady herself, she exhaled smoothly and smiled.

"No, that's not-. I can just call a friend to come get me. Thank you though."

Feeling the furnace roaring inside her, Rachel averted her eyes and began to make her exit from the room. She swallowed as her nipples stiffened fully under her thin, tight shirt. Shit. Her bra was still in Greg's car! She clutched her jacket more fully around her chest in a hurried attempt at modesty. She had to get out of there.

Rich watched her hasty retreat and he called out to her just as she reached the stairs.

"Wait. Are you sure? It's really not a problem. I'd rather you got home safe, too."

Rachel stopped at his words and turned slowly back around to face him. She could feel the blood pumping between her thighs. She was riled up almost to the breaking point and if she got in a car alone with this handsome man who had more than once been the subject of her own fantasies, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to-.

She fought the wave back with all her strength and gave one final push. Smiling politely, she shook her head with a casualness belying the deafening buzz in her senses.

"No, really. It's fine. I've already disturbed your night enough."

She held still, hoping that had been enough to make him drop it. God, if he pushed one more time, she just might crack.

Rich studied her for a moment before smiling back and nodding his head.

"Okay, well if you're sure."

He exhaled and gave another irritated look over at the shattered lamp. As he assessed the scene a final time, he spoke.

"Thank you again, Ray-."

Her name rolled slowly off his tongue but died before the second syllable as his eyes passed over something he hadn't noticed on first glance.

His son's jeans.

Folded neatly in a pile on the floor.

His stomach tightened and a shiver went up his back as he turned again to face the girl at the foot of the stairs. A tickle of déjà vu skipped across his brain. "Rachel." Why was that name suddenly so familiar?

His eyes widened and his throat dried quickly. He hadn't recognized her at first but now he remembered. She'd been in his house before. She'd come over one afternoon to do some sort of school project with his son. He remembered her peppering him with questions about his work. He also remembered-.

He felt himself stiffen and his jaw tensed as he glanced back down at the neatly folded pants. Why wasn't his son wearing them? Why had they been taken off?

Rachel felt the breath rush from her lungs as she processed exactly what he was seeing. She cursed herself as her eyes fell to the incriminating denim. Shit, Rach! You had to go and take off his-.

Her thoughts cut off as she met Rich's eyes and locked into his stare. His face displayed that same hint of inquisitive disbelief that he'd given her that afternoon she'd left his house after her "assignment" rendezvous with Greg. But while she'd been able to offer her little tease that day and make a quick escape, she was in a much more precarious situation now.

She broke the stare and let her eyes run down over his figure. He seemed to be in pretty good shape for an older man. He was tall and lean like his son. Her eyes flicked to his pajama pants. Was he wearing anything underneath...?

An alarm screamed out in her brain, drowning the scandalous inquiry in a sea of protest. No, Rachel. No. NO. Turn around. Turn around right now and walk up those stairs and don't say a fucking word.

A full shiver racked her body and her jaw fell slack. Summoning every last bit of resolve, she followed the stern instructions and turned her back to the room. She reached for the railing and brought one foot up to the first stair. Her chest heaved.