"Alice"

Story by Indraasil

A/N

First off, this is just going to be the prologue. If I end up writing more of this story (as I most likely will), I'd like to post it in the same thread instead of cluttering the board with new topics.

The prologue is sort of to 'test the waters'... I'd like to see the general reaction. Also, this is my first smut fic (and a futa fic, at that...), so perhaps I'm not my usual confident self.

Comments saying you like/dislike/love/hate etc. are always appreciated, but I'd simply adore any posts that actually give me criticism on the content and style of my writing. Nothing would make me happier than people helping to make the story better. If you have even minor criticism, please speak up.

One last note (I promise). The story is to be written in first person, and the narrator is female. Keep in mind that this is fictional and that I am, in fact, male. Thank you.

To understand my story, there’s a few things you need to know first. My name is Kara, and at the time of these events, I was an eighteen-year-old high school student. As if that wasn’t enough to get the old perverts foaming at the mouth, I was (and still am) an open lesbian. I hear that at most schools, coming out would have you branded as a pervert and a freak, and you would be harassed and tormented by most of the school. Luckily, I lived in a rather liberal part of California, and most of the students had been raised by their parents to be accepting of homosexuality. Which had two benefits for me: one was that nobody minded my orientation, and the second was that there were more than a few girls who were also ‘out of the closet’.

I had had a couple girlfriends, and of course we fooled around. I was swimming in hormones, or maybe I was just horny. Regardless, these relationships never worked out in the end. I wasn’t sure why at the time. It always seemed like there was something missing, but I could never figure out what.

That is, until I hooked up with my current lover, Alice. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Alice was one of the most beautiful women at school, in my opinion. She tried to hide her curvy, 5’ 9” figure with unassuming clothes, but it was obvious how sexy her body was during the aquatics portion of gym, when I got to see her in a swimsuit. She nearly always wore her large, round, horn-rimmed glasses and tried to hide her face with her hair, but I think the glasses just make her sexier. I guess that’s one of my little fetishes. There are two things that nearly every girl is jealous of, though: her long, black hair that reaches all the way to the small of her back, and her breasts. They were d-cups easily, perfectly round and perky. I wasted more than one day of classes just staring at them. She tried to hide these ‘assets’ as well, positioning her arms so that they downplay the size. Those who have been paying attention could probably tell that she had seriously low self-esteem, but why the beautiful honors-student was so unsure of herself was completely beyond me.

Almost beyond me, I should say. I noticed that Alice would always dress out for gym after all the girls finished, and then wouldn’t change back to normal clothes until everybody was out of the locker room. Obviously, she was ashamed of her body for some reason. I was curious about that for years. Since we were both seniors, I decided that I’d find out. So, I hatched a little scheme to discover whatever Alice was hiding, if anything.

We were both on the swim team. I can say with some earned pride that I was the captain of the team. Alice was also very skilled, but that’s not important right now. One day at practice, I managed to convince the coach to let me out of the pool a little early. It was just enough time to convince everybody I could have dressed and left before they got there. I gathered my clothes and backpack and hid in the storage room that was connected to the locker room. It was open to the locker room, but it was perpetually dark and gloomy, had lots of hiding places, and nobody went in there.

I waited for over fifteen minutes, patiently hiding and listening to the showers and chatter of the team. Finally, the din died down, and I used one of those compact mirrors (which I had ‘borrowed’ from my mother) to check around the corner. Sure enough, there was Alice, about to start changing. It was odd, though, since her nose was practically touching the wall. Why would she do that when there were no other girls in the locker room? Or, at least, that’s what I told myself so that I could believe that she really was hiding something.

Taking the opportunity, I snuck up behind her. I waited until she slipped the straps of her one-piece suit from her shoulders and lowered them, freeing those wonderfully large breasts, then pounced. I grabbed her breasts from behind, one in each hand. Now, I don’t normally go around molesting girls in the locker room, but the opportunity was golden and I jus

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