Rachael topped off at five foot two and had a slim build. Her breasts were 32Cs and her ass was round and tight but nothing extraordinary. From afar, she was often mistaken for someone much younger because of her size. She wasn't particularly beautiful up close, didn't dress flauntingly, but she had an innate sexiness that made men take a second look.
She had a way of speaking that made every word sound like an innuendo. Her slow smiles and husky laugh got the blood pumping. And her languorous gray eyes made men envision those eyes looking up at them from beneath.
David didn't know what caused it but all of a sudden, he began to see her differently, noticing what the other men had readily noticed. It was nothing sexual at first. He took one look and noted that she had grown up. Then he'd catch himself staring at her narrow but full lips, her smooth legs, and when her back was turned, her ass. He'd be uncomfortably sporting a boner when they were only talking. And in the last year, she became the starring role in his masturbation fantasies.
He hadn't planned to do anything about his desires. He was resigned, content even, to let her remain in his fantasies. That was until two days ago, when Rachael turned eighteen. Reason and restraint flew out the window and having her in reality suddenly became a pressing need. So much so that, without a thought, he bought a drug to fulfill that need, guaranteed to have her in his clutches without a memory of it when she next awoke.
Having doctored her drink with the drug two hours before, she now lay unconscious on the bed. David stood at the side of it, ogling her openly like he never had before. Face clean of makeup and her feminine wiles absent, she looked no more than thirteen, the age when he first started becoming aware of her. Her youthful appearance made him hesitate but, when he looked at the rest of her, it only lasted a second.
She was lying on her back, arms at rest at her sides, head turned slightly away from him. She was completely naked, having been undressed by him before he laid her down. He looked his fill of her creamy skin, perky pink-tipped breasts and mostly bare pussy. Above her hooded clit was a small patch of dark hair.
He nervously reached out with his left hand. Intently watching the side of her face, ready to bolt should she show any sign of waking, he lightly touched his trembling finger to the tip of her right nipple and quickly snatched it back. No reaction from her, not even a flicker of eyelash. The drug was working well. He quietly released a relieved breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
Gently but with more confidence, he cupped the whole breast, learning its shape, its weight. He then traced around the areola with a finger. The already perky nipple tightened further. Saliva pooled in his mouth. Raising goosebumps in its wake, his finger traveled to the other nipple. He repeated his earlier ministrations and the left nipple now matched its twin.
His free hand, inert by his side this whole time and feeling left out, joined in. He fondled both breasts, her hard nipples stabbing his palms. Almost involuntarily, he squeezed her breasts. His eyes snapped up to her face in panic but she remained impassive. He frowned, his hands falling away. He wanted her compliant, not unresponsive. Had he given her too much of the drug?
The thought made him angry. In his mind, the fault was hers. Her fault for making him obsessed with her these last five years. Her fault for making him resort to using drugs to fuck her. Her fault that his plan wasn't working the way he envisioned.
