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Home / First Time / A Presidents Daughter

A Presidents Daughter

A President's Daughter
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I first met Rachael when she was a freshman in college – just turned 18 the month before entering the university. I, on the other hand, was a junior in college, 21 years old and with a bit of a reputation amongst my friends. My friends and I would place bets with one another on a semi-frequent basis putting money on dates with well-known girls in our classes, or simply some of the more attractive girls that we ran into around the university. From the moment my friends and I saw Rachael, we knew that one of us had to have her.

We first saw her during the week before classes started. She was with a group of girls from her dormitory, no doubt she lived in an all-female dorm, she looked like “one of those girls”. I remember the moment clearly. My buddies and I were sitting around at an outdoor picnic table watching all of the girls passing by and as her group of new friends started to walk by, she stood out. She was the tallest of them all, nearly six feet tall, long and wavy blonde hair that was loosely tied back off of her long neck, she had a beautiful oval shape that was completely illuminated by her bright, white smile and sparkling eyes. She was wearing a white skirt that fell to her knees, but with each step would rise up mid-thigh, her top was a bright blue tank top, accented with lace around her cleavage which bounced just slightly with each step. I could only dream of what treasures were hiding underneath her clothes.

“Freshmen,” my friend Andy said with a mischievous smile on his face. The previous year, the freshmen women had been the subject of our desires and proved to be an easy and tempting target.

“Do you think they have boyfriends?” my friend Chris asked.

“Of course they have boyfriends,” I replied, “they all have boyfriends when they start here. And we are the ones who end those relationships.”

We watched as the girls paraded by us, each one of them glancing over in our direction separately as they walked by. My eyes never left Rachael though. She glanced in my direction, and for a split second I felt like a freshman in high school all over again. Rachael was a girl that could turn any man into a whimpering pile of pussy.

“Oh man…she’s hot,” Chris said as he walked Rachael walk away.

“She’s mine, guys,” I said.

“Oh yeah?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, what do you want to bet?” Andrew asked.

“Boys,” I replied with a sly smile on my face, “that girl is going to be mine by Halloween.”

“That gives you two months,” my friend Steve said. “That’s way too much time.”

“Is it?” I asked. “First, I have to figure out where she lives, that could take me a month in and of itself.”

“So you find out where she lives,” Andrew said, “she’ll be yours as soon as you show up at her door.”

We had rarely ever run into problems with a girl turning any of us down, and I was often considered to be one of the more attractive of the bunch. I was 6’2″, went to the gym several times a week to lift weights and work out, and it was given that as soon as I dropped my pants in front of any girl, she was at my mercy.

“Okay, beginning of October then,” I said.

“How much?” Steve asked.

“If I get her by the first of October, you buy me booze for the rest of the year,” I said.

“And if you don’t,” Andrew said, “then you owe the same, to each and every one of us sitting here.”

“Deal,” I said. We all shook on it and I watched as Rachael and her friends rounded the corner.

I may not have attended class quite as often as I should have, but I always made it a point to go to the first day. I walked into my first class of the day, it was one o’clock, and I had just rolled out of bed and looked like I had. I walked to the back of the classroom and took the coveted back row seat. I watched as students filed in, didn’t recognize any of them – not that I expected to.

The professor entered the room with his briefcase in tow and started to write various notes on the board at the front of the room. As soon as the professor opened his mouth to speak, she walked – no fell – into the room, rather loudly. She was carrying books in her arms and as she tripped over her own foot while walking into the door, she fell to the floor in a dramatic mess, her books flying across the room.

A couple of the students sitting in the front rushed to her aid, the professor helped her gather her books and handed them back to her.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Rachael McCoy,” she replied, standing up, her knee slightly scraped from her fall and her face beet red with embarrassment.

“Are you okay?” the professor asked, kindly. Rachael nodded, taking her books from him and walking up to the area I was sitting in, her head looking down with embarrassment. My heart began to beat faster and faster with each step she took towards me.

She sat in front of me. In front of me! I couldn’t believe my luck. I swallowed a nervous lump in my throat, unusual compared to most of my bets. I took a deep breath and tapped her on the shoulder as the professor started to talk.

“Yes?” she asked in a whisper, turning around to face me.

“Hi,” I said with a suave smile, “I’m Joshua – Josh.”

“Hi Josh,” she said with a dismissive voice, was she used to this?

“Uh, are you okay?” I asked, with genuine concern in my voice.

“Yeah, it’s just a scrape…and the worst first impression to make on my colleagues,” she replied. “If walking into the wrong classroom at first wasn’t enough, I had to fall on my face in the right one.” The embarrassment in her face began to rise again. I smiled.

“It happens to the best of us,” I said. “What’s your name?”

“Rachael,” she said, “Rachael McCoy.”

“Your name is familiar,” I said, honestly. I had heard the name before, I just wasn’t sure where from. She blushed, smiled and I swore that I could hear a giggle.

“Are you new to the university?” she asked.

“No, I’ve been here for three years,” I replied. She leaned back, close to me, so close that I was able to smell the slightest perfume lingering on her skin and hair.

“My father is the president of the university,” she whispered. “Faculty have been talking about me coming here for months.” Immediately I felt like a fool and leaned back in my chair, it was my turn to become red with embarrassment. It all came flooding back into my memory, I had read it in the school newspaper that she was a straight A student, had won awards and scholarships because of her intelligence. No wonder she had been able to get into classes that most freshmen never made it into.

I sat back in my chair, feeling not only embarrassment, stupidity, but suddenly everything I had always been so cocky about was completely out of reach. I didn’t talk to Rachael for the rest of the class, she seemed very studious, and I would have hated to disturb her and get on her bad side.

I went to my next class and sat in the same spot in the classroom that I had in my previous class. Without warning, Rachael showed up and sat in front of me once more. She was taunting me, this time I could smell her perfume even stronger, was she trying to drop a hint?

I left that class as quickly as I could and went to my science class. I sat at a lab table in the back of the classroom. I was tired, I wanted to sleep a little more, and I wanted to get the infectious smell of Rachael out of my head. The professor walked into the classroom and students began to gather inside – the seat next to me remained empty. That is, until she walked into the classroom. She caught my eye, smiled and marched right to the back of the classroom and sat down in the empty chair next to me.

“I see we have similar interests in classes,” she said with a coy smile on her face. “Or maybe you’re just following me.”

“Or maybe you’re the one following me,” I replied in a mutter under my breath.

“Welcome students,” the professor said. “Look to the person sitting next to you at your lab tables…” every student in the room did so, “these people will be your lab partners for the rest of the semester.” My eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat.

“Well, now you can’t get rid of me,” Rachael said smiling, her bright blue eyes sparkling. God was taunting me.

“So are you ready to search for the girl?” Andrew asked as soon as I had walked into the house after classes that day.

“No need,” I replied.

“Oh?” Andrew asked. “Giving up already, huh?”

“No,” I replied as I reached into my pocket and pulled out Rachael’s phone number and address. I handed the piece of paper over to Andrew.

“Fuck!” Andrew exclaimed as Chris walked out into the room we were in. “Josh already got the girls address and phone number!”

“How the hell did you do it, man?” Chris asked, looking at me incredulously.

“Easy,” I replied. “She’s in three of my classes, and she’s my lab partner in science class.”

“Oh man, you lucky fuck,” Andrew said throwing the piece of paper back at me. I smiled.

“There is a catch though,” I said, a little grimly. My two friends looked up at me. “Does the name Rachael McCoy ring a bell to either of you?”

“Name sounds familiar…” Andrew said.

“And do you know why her name sounds familiar?” I asked. My two friends shook their heads ‘no’.

“She famous?” Chris asked, stupidly.

“No, she’s the daughter, the straight A, thousands of scholarships and awards, pristine and pure daughter of none other than the president of our university,” I replied.

“Fuck no!” Chris exclaimed loudly.

“Invite her this weekend,” Andrew said. I turned to Andrew.

“Are you kidding?” I asked. “She’ll never come.”

“Invite her, you never know,” Andrew replied. “Maybe she wants to rebel.”

“You want to lose the bet?” I asked with a wry smile on my face.

“Maybe we can…spice up the bet by the end of the week,” Chris said.

“Hey gorgeous, welcome to the party…” my friend Joel said as he answered the door the night of our back-to-school booze-a-thon.

Rachael snorted and pushed past Joel and walked into our kitchen. She walked up to me as I was pumping some beer out from the keg for a girl standing next to me.

“Hi Josh,” she said.

“Hey,” I said, not looking up at her. I handed the beer to the girl and turned to Rachael. Her face was red and her eyes were slightly puffy. “Do you want a beer?” It was the wrong question to ask as she started to choke up and it looked as if she was going to cry.

“I should leave…” she said. “I just wanted to drop by and say hi.”

“No, no,” I said, “come on, we can go up to my room.” I put my arm around her and ushered her out of the living room and up the stairs to my bedroom.

We both sat down on my unmade bed. She sat defensively on the edge, her back towards me.

“What’s wrong, Rachael?” I asked.

“It’s my boyfriend…” she stammered, my heart froze, “or I guess I should say ex-boyfriend now…”

“He broke up with you?” I asked.

“I broke up with him,” she replied. “He…posted pictures…”

“Pictures?” I asked.

“He posted pictures of me in my underwear on some website,” she replied, tears running down her cheeks now. The first thought in my mind was that there were pictures of Rachael somewhere online with her in her underwear, the second thought was how awful a party she was at after such a cruel break-up and my third thought was surprise that she would be so open with me about such a personal subject.

“I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

“I wasn’t even going to come to this party,” she continued, “I never party…hell, I’ve never even had a drink. Now, I don’t care. To hell with everything…”

“Do you want a drink?” I asked.

“I can try a beer I guess,” she replied. I handed her a Kleenex.

“Come on, let’s go downstairs,” I said with a comforting smile on my face. “We’ll get you a beer.” Rachael wiped the tears away from her eyes and followed me back down the stairs in order to get a beer.

As the night progressed, Rachael became drunker and drunker. As she became less and less coherent, more and more of the guys at the party started flock to her and I felt that it was my duty to do my best to protect her. I kept close to her, I doled out beers to my fellow buddies and watched to make sure people weren’t doing anything to damage our house.

At one point, it must have been two in the morning, or close to it. I saw a friend of a friend start to reach into his pocket. He put his arm around Rachael, and she swaggered against his shoulder, a little bit of beer spilling from her full cup. I almost didn’t catch it, but from the corner of my eye I saw the guy drop a small pill into Rachael’s drink and as soon as he had done so, Rachael took a huge gulp of it.

“Fuck,” I said quietly. I turned to a friend of mine, “Take over here for me, will you?” I walked over to the already drunk man with his arm around Rachael and pushed him off of her.

“Come with me, Rachael,” I said. Her eyes rolled around in their sockets and she smiled stupidly at me. I put my arm around her waist and ushered her up to my bedroom.

“Where’s my beer?” she asked.

“What beer?” I asked, trying to trick her.

“I had a beer in my hand before I came up here…” she replied looking around. I shrugged.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Rachael,” I said. She nodded sleepily.

“I’m going to lay down,” she said with a yawn. I nodded.

“Hey, Rachael,” I said as she lay down on my bed, “what was the website your ex-boyfriend posted pictures of you on?” I was completely taking advantage of her state at this point, but I promised myself that I would not take advantage of her in her unconscious, drugged state. She told me, completely willingly and I walked over to my computer, typed the URL in the search engine and immediately, I was greeted with some amazing, self-taken pictures of a happy, smiling, and unbelievably sexy Rachael in her underwear.

I looked over at Rachael on my bed, she was asleep, the drugs must have been potent. I looked back at my computer screen and ran my browser over thumbnail images of Rachael. I clicked on one. A 800×1000 picture popped up. For having took the pictures herself, they were well done. Rachael sat on a pink bedspread wearing a pair of black satin panties and a strapless bra of the same color and fabric. Her wavy brown hair was tied up over her head and she wore a beautiful sparkling necklace that hung weightlessly around her neck. I sighed and went to the next picture. The next picture, she was lying on her back, her hair cascading over the pink bedspread, her mouth was open slightly and a curious look was in her eyes. She wore a pair of sky blue lace panties, and her breasts were just barely covered with a thin knit afghan. I could just barely see the natural roundness of her breasts and a very slight perk in her nipples. I swallowed a lump in my throat. I had looked at and watched pornography far, far more hardcore than this, but just seeing these two images and seeing Rachael passed out cold on my bed made me hunger for her all the more, not to mention hornier than I had felt in the past year.

I clicked on the next picture and felt the familiar bob down in my pants. In this image, Rachael was down on all fours, her rear just visible back behind her head – she was wearing a red g-string – her head was low, close to the familiar pink bedspread, her breasts hung down, touching the bed and barely concealed in a see-through red bra. Around her neck was a spiked dog collar, and the same sort of cuffs were around her wrists. I just about lost it. I whimpered quietly, I actually whimpered, I couldn’t believe it either, and I closed the window I was looking at then looked down into my lap. My dick was standing at full attention, completely visible through my jeans. I couldn’t go back down to the party like this – no way. I figured that it was better that everyone think that I was up in my room screwing an unconscious freshman, than to go back down to the party with a raging boner and having everyone think that Rachael was free for anyone to have a go at.

I walked to the door slowly, closed it tightly and locked the door. I wouldn’t be going anywhere for the rest of the night. I sat down on my bed, away from Rachael, reached under the bed and grabbed a beer from the case underneath then turned on the television and watched some late-night Comedy Central.

I’m still not sure when I actually fell asleep, but it was sometime between Crank Yankers and Mad TV. I fell asleep fully clothed and on top of the covers. Rachael had somehow pulled some of my covers over her and seemed to be happily sound asleep. When I woke up in the morning, I was surprised to see Rachael still next to me, she was awake, and there seemed to be little disappointment or anger present on her face.

“Did anything happen?” she asked meekly. I cleared my throat slightly.

“No,” I replied. “I was a perfect gentleman.” She kind of half-smiled.

“My roommates are probably flipping out right now,” she said.

“Do you want to call them?” I asked. She shook her head.

“I’ll be home soon,” she replied. “So what happened last night?”

“Do you remember anything?” I asked. She shook her head again. “You came, you were upset, you got drunk, you didn’t want to get caught walking home drunk, so you asked if you could stay here, I said yes, you came up to my room and passed out. I came up later and found you in my bed, so I just slept as far off to the side as I could.” I lied, completely. She wouldn’t want to have known that she had been drugged.

“Well…thanks, I guess,” she said. “Listen, Josh, I’ll see you on Monday.” I nodded, and she jumped up over me and left.

I spent the rest of the week looking at the pictures posted online of Rachael. I started feeling sillier and sillier with each passing day when I’d see Rachael in class and immediately associate her with the photos online. I had to have her more than ever.

It was Friday, it was my last class of the week, and it was the science class that I had with Rachael. She sat unusually close to me, my senses were clouded with her sweet perfume and her infectious smile.

“How long were you with your ex-boyfriend?” I asked while we were busy with on lab work. She looked at me with a curious look on her face.

“Since I was a sophomore in high school,” she replied.

“Wow, really?” I asked, she nodded. “You must have been pretty serious then.” She shrugged as she plugged a couple of numbers into her calculator.

“Not really,” she replied. “I went to an all-girls school, only got to see him on select weekends, and I’ve had the slight suspicion that he’d been cheating on me throughout the past year.”

“So the lingerie photos…” I asked carefully.

“I suppose that it was a cry for help, I wanted to try and save the relationship and we can see where that ended up,” she replied. I nodded, I’d been seeing them all week. The image of Rachael in the dog collar and devilish red lingerie was permanently burned into my brain. Just thinking about it at that moment made me feel a familiar tingling in my jeans.

“What did you get for number five, Josh?” she asked. I looked down at my paperwork and shrugged. She nodded and turned back to her piece of paper.

“Listen, I was wondering…do you want to go out for dinner or something this evening?” I asked, I wasn’t even entirely sure where it had come from. I hadn’t actually asked a girl out on a true date in two years, at least. Most of the time I invited them to a party and they immediately put out towards the end of the night.

“Well…” she said quietly and slowly. “Where are you thinking?” I shrugged.

“What do you like?” I asked.

“How about we go for coffee?” she said with an earnest smile. “I have some work that I need to do, and I would really prefer a quiet place to sit and study. I smiled.

“Sure,” I said. “How about I meet you at your room around 7 o’clock?” She smiled and nodded.

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