Rachel Graham s Precious Little Life Chapter 1
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Rachel Graham's Precious Little Life - Prologue free porn video
Note: This story is copyright 2013 Mekalicious, all rights reserved.
This story may not be copied, distributed, or sold without express written
consent of the original author.
Author's note: I took a lot of inspiration for this story from an
experience I had online a couple years ago, and the person I describe as
Steven Stills is an actual person that's out there. Ladies, especially
younger ladies, be careful, and look out for this guy. Just because he is
the protagonist of the story does not make him the good guy.
2nd note: There's a lot of inspiration here from the Scott Pilgrim comics
and movie, as well as the general hipster culture of where I live
(Kentucky) and where the story takes place (California). If hipsters, the
things they like, and that sort of thing bother you, you may want to let
this one go.
***
I guess you could say I'm kind of an asshole.
That's what most of the girls said, at least, once they found out who I
really was. It didn't matter. They were right. I am an asshole, or I
was to them at least.
The ruse was simple. Using pictures of my brother's ex-girlfriend, I
created profiles on dating sites, social networks, etc. and, using those
pictures, and my writing, acting, and computer skills, I managed to create
an alternate identity for myself. Instead of being Steve Stills, the 30
year old IT guy who everyone gives shit because of his name, I was Rachel
Graham, a 19 year old lesbian living in sunny Los Angeles, California.
Rachel was a violin virtuoso with a penchant for celtic rock music and had
come to L.A. Pursuing an acting career that was destined to never get off
the ground.
I was a very convincing woman, online. I always made sure my potential
partners were long-distance, young and naive enough to believe what I was
telling them, and once things became serious between us, I tried to break
things off. Sometimes it was meant to fall apart from the beginning, and
I was able to just log off of "her" accounts for a few days, and then when
I logged back in, the other girl would've given up.
I was careful, of course. What I was doing was identity theft of the ex-
girlfriend whose name I won't mention, and that was likely the least of my
crimes, at least in the court of public opinion.
I spent three years shaping Rachel's personality, and life, having her
grow up from high school, to college, to her big break in acting which
caused her to drop out. Keeping everything consistent was important to
staying in-character for days, sometimes weeks, sometimes months on end.
I should mention now that I was married back in the real world, and
happily so. Living as Rachel wasn't a sexual fantasy, in fact I hardly
let a "relationship" get sexual in nature, which seemed to increase my
believability. If I was a guy pretending to be a girl, it'd obviously
just be for sex, right? Of course. It had nothing to do with what I
always called a "writing exercise". Which I suppose it was. I was simply
playing a game, a roleplaying session with someone who had no idea.
As I said, I spent years crafting this image and this persona. It became
a part of me. Rachel was a violin virtuoso, so I started shopping for
violins and seeing if I could afford lessons, much less find a teacher
willing to take on a grown man who looked more likely to snap the
instrument than play it properly. 6'4 men with military builds and
haircuts didn't exactly look too manly with a beginner's violin in their
hands, either. Rachel was short, barely 5 feet tall, so I started
thinking like a short person, organizing the cabinets in our house to
accommodate a short person living in them. Rachel was an actress, so I
pursued a career in filmmaking.
The worst breakup was Brittany. She and I spent hours talking on the
phone (myself talking through a very expensive voice changer, which had
fooled literally everyone I'd tried using it with), we were, as much as I
could be, in love. We'd never met. I'd seen her on webcam a few times,
and she was the one I finally took the sexting plunge with.
Well, I say finally, it was finally as Rachel. I'd been pretending to be
women in chatrooms for ages, doing cybersex and whatnot. I considered
myself quite skilled in the art of wordplay induced orgasms. I knew the
ins and outs of lesbian sex and how to describe it better than anyone I'd
ever met. Of course, I was no romance novelist, but I wasn't trying to
be. I was trying to be a horny teenage girl sexting her equally horny
teenage girlfriend. A feat I accomplished easily with Brittany.
It progressed to phone sex. Well, less phone sex, more me pretending to
masturbate, and making convincing orgasmic sounds into my voice changer.
Rachel and Brittany were madly in love, lust, and all the rest that two
people can be. I shopped for apartments in Brittany's hometown, sent her
provocative pictures I'd hijacked from my brother's secret folders on his
computer, and generally let myself expand this relationship more than I
ever had before.
Which is why I genuinely was crushed when the time came for us to meet.
That was simply not something that could happen. I made excuses for a
while, but eventually Brittany discovered that something wasn't adding up.
Turns out she was nearly as smart as I was, and the ruse fell apart one
night when the voice changer screwed up some of my settings.
That's when I became an asshole, at least in the eyes of someone other
than myself. And that's the first time I truly knew what it felt like to
get dumped. In the real world, well, my breakups had been few and they'd
all been mutual partings. I had different relationships as Steve than I
did as Rachel, for one.
After that, I stopped caring so much. Rachel was an adult now, and she
was allowed to have a sex drive, dammit! So sexting, and exchanging
naughty pictures became a part of all my online relationships. I stopped
getting as emotionally involved.
Then I met Rebecca. Rachel and Rebecca were like two peas in a pod. I
fell in love, and hard. Hell, Rebecca and Steve would've made a good
pair.
During that relationship is with Rachel moved to California and began her
acting career. It also marked the beginning of my career as a
professional screenwriter and the looming potential for a real-life move
to Los Angeles.
Rebecca didn't last either, unfortunately. There was the gnawing
suspicion that she was lying to me, and it culminated in her openly
cheating on me. I was hurt, more than I knew I could be. That night, I
told my wife I wasn't feeling well, locked myself in the bathroom, and
cried. Sobbed like a baby.
I was still an asshole, but I spent every minute I could praying to
whatever higher power could possibly hear me to help me stop being such a
terrible person.
I guess I wasn't faithful enough, though, because I got right back into
it.
I should clarify here, because it seems like I hop from one relationship
to another, but that's only how I keep track of time passing. Rachel had
a very active online presence. She even wrote an advice blog on one
dating site for young lesbian couples and people struggling to come out.
She had a large-ish network of friends, mostly musicians, and of course
followers on her blog, her twitter, etc.
I would get to work every morning, wait an appropriate amount of time, and
"wake up" in Rachel's life, where she'd check her email, log on to
facebook, reddit, and her dating sites, and go about having her keep up
appearances of a normal life.
It was sick, I know. And then I met Sulyn.
Sulyn was a Thai version of Rachel. Same height, same interests in music,
Sulyn was even a violinist! I had to brush up on my jargon when I was
with her. Her family had moved to Chicago when she was a baby, and she
was perfect. Beautiful, smart, funny, everything I wanted in a lover,
either as Rachel or as Steve.
She was also a proud lesbian, a senior in high school, and a couple years
younger than Rachel. She'd only recently come out to herself and her
friends and family, and had never dated anyone. She was (and here I show
my asshole again) perfect for me to work with.
This time it was harder than any of them had ever been. I was so in love,
I was having trouble performing in bed with my wife, which up to that
point had never been an issue, in fact none of my escapades as Rachel had
ever had any sort of effect on my marriage.
I suppose that's around the point that whatever god had decided to take my
message got around to checking their voicemail.
The morning where this story really begins was like any other July
morning. I rolled out of bed to my alarm, took a bleary-eyed shower,
wiped the soap out of my eyes, shaved my face, got dressed for work,
kissed my still half-asleep wife goodbye, and drove to the office.
Around 9:30 AM my time made it 6:30 for Rachel. That's about when she
tended to wake up, having a full-time job at a music shop. That gave her
enough time to check email, shower, and do a little internet browsing
before she had to leave.
I got into work at 7:50. A bit earlier than normal, gave me time to do a
little internet snooping. Turns out the girl whose pictures I'd been
using emails pictures to herself rather than syncing her phone. It also
turns out that I happened to know her email password. It usually netted
me one or two new pictures a month.
My job was a pretty simple one, that allowed me to get a day's work done
in the span of a couple hours, which gave me plenty of Rachel time.
That morning, I'd planned it to be her day off, to spend more time talking
to Sulyn. My boss was out of the office, and aside from him, I didn't
have anyone to answer to.
Su-chan: Hey :)
Me: Hihi :D
Su-chan: You're up early
Me: Yeah, well, I kinda passed out early last night. You know how it
goes.
Su-chan: Yeah. So what are you up to today?
Me: The usual. Jack shit.
Su-chan: lol
Me: lol :D you?
Su-chan: Debate camp later, but until then talking to my beautiful
girlfriend :)
Me: aww :) did you sleep well? ;)
Su-chan: I did ;) thanks to you.
Me: Glad I could help :p
Su-chan: Hey, I had to do all the work :p Wish it had been you, though.
Me: Me too...
Su-chan: Someday :)
Me: Yeah :)
Su-chan: Which reminds me, I still need to hear you play sometime.
Me: Yeah you do.
Su-chan: Did you ever get new strings?
Me: Yeah, I'm sticking with Helicores. They're fine for the way I play.
Su-chan: So...
Me: Fine :p
Su-chan: FINALLY! :D
I laid back and stretched, brushing my hair out of my face. It was way
too early in the morning to be good, but she didn't care. I could saw on
it like a 10 year old and she wouldn't care. I'd be the best she'd ever
heard. I stood up and went in my bedroom, grabbing my violin case, and
headed back to my desk. Opening the case, I couldn't help but regard the
craftsmanship. It was like that every time. I'd saved my entire
sophomore year in high school working to pay for this instrument, which
had been custom-made for me.
I fired up the audio connection on our messenger, and we started talking.
"Hey, I guess this new mic actually works, right?" I asked, waiting for a
tentative reply.
"Yes! Finally! I can hear you!" Came the response. Her voice I knew
well, but she hadn't heard mine yet. My laptop mic had conveniently
broken right before we met, and I was using an external one I'd bought a
couple days ago. I hoped it would pick up the violin.
I smiled, rosined my bow, and drew a slow note, doing a couple of practice
scales.
"Is the sound coming through good?" I asked.
"Loud and clear!" She was beaming. I couldn't see, but I knew.
I launched into a slow rendition of one of Tchaikovsky's pieces I'd always
liked playing. It was one of those pieces that could set a dozen moods
based on how it was played, and the way I performed it gave it an eerily
romantic tone.
I imagined the look on her face, which made me smile. From 2000 miles
away she could melt my heart in an instant. I finished the piece and laid
my violin back in its case.
"What'd you think?" I questioned her after a brief silence.
"I have no idea why you ever said you weren't that good. You're amazing.
Seriously, the best I've ever heard."
In the back of my head, I knew it was true. Hell, I'd gotten a full-ride
scholarship for music performance to a great college. Everyone had told
me I'd be first chair in any orchestra I ended up in. But I had thrown
that life away for a half-hearted promise when I moved out here.
We chatted a little while more, both of us glad to finally be on speaking
terms, but I had to get ready for work, and she had to do...whatever it is
she does when we're not talking. I cleaned up my desk, turned the coffee
maker on, and headed into the shower.
The shower was when I realized something was wrong. I got a brief sense
of deja vu...had I already taken a shower today? Like, three hours ago?
No way. I was sound asleep then, unless I was sleepwalking, and sleep-
showering. Neither of which were things I'd ever been known to do, and
besides, the bathroom was bone dry, and that meant neither I nor anybody
had let any steam build up in here for at least 12 hours.
I lathered up to shave my legs, and absentmindedly smeared some on my
face. I really was having a weird morning. I shaved my legs, underarms,
and my vag, and got out and dried off, wandering to the kitchen for fresh
coffee before putting any clothing on.
Sipping my first cup of the day, I started getting a headache, but I
downed a couple excedrin and wandered back into my bedroom to pick out
some clothes from the pile on my floor.
"Siri, weather for today?" I asked my phone.
"High of 90 and Sunny today." Came the computerized reply. A hot one. It
was sundress weather. Unfortunately, I didn't own a single sundress.
Well, fortunately I suppose. What I did have were a couple jean skirts
that hadn't seen much use, and some checkered leggings that clashed just
enough to give it a hipster vibe.
Dressed, caffeinated, and with my headache starting to subside, I slung my
laptop bag over my shoulder, picked up my violin case, and left the tiny
studio apartment I called home.
Los Angeles is a city that you love to live in but hate driving in.
Fortunately, my work was only a 15 minute walk from home, and I passed my
second-favorite coffee shop on the way in. I stopped in for my usual
second cup, a caramel macchiatto, when I was greeted by none other than
Julie Wells, the bane of my existence.
"Rachel fucking Graham, of course you're here." It seemed her profession
in life was not being a barista, but being an absolutely insufferable cunt
to everyone in her life. "What can I fucking get for you?"
"Umm...caramel macchiatto? You're looking well, Julie."
"I don't want to fucking hear it, Graham. 5.50." I handed her a 10.
Yep. As cunty and as insufferable as they come. No change. Tips weren't
given to Julie, they were taken. I could get her in trouble if I gave
enough of a damn.
Seven minutes. She must've told them to put the brakes on it this
morning. I flipped her off as I left. I'd see her that night at a party.
She was dating my best friend.
That's the kind of friends I have.
My headache was coming back, and I had to be at work soon.
Bree
- 12.03.2020
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