The Chosen One

Two teenage friends of a shy, tall girl help her with her quest to lose her virginity by the end of high school. An appropriate and compliant boy is chosen.

Part One

My name is Mitchell Preston. For as long as I can recall, most people simply opted to shorten my first name and just called me Mitch.

I can remember the day clearly: It was a Tuesday in June of 1981. There was about a month remaining in my senior year of high school. I had gone to the school’s library after the final bell of the day had dismissed my English literature class. I was trying to find a novel for an important assignment. I had to read a work of fiction with a war theme and write a 1,000-word book review about it.

I had just checked out All Quiet on the Western Front. I was within a couple of steps of leaving the library, when a girl whom I barely knew stopped me in my tracks. It was Jane Finnegan. “Mitch!” she shouted in a loud voice not typically heard in a library in those days when silence in such a place was supposed to be the norm. I turned around as she was striding toward me. “Can I speak with you, please?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said. Jane promptly led me to around table located far from the door and out of earshot of the school’s librarian. We sat across from each other. For someone who wanted to talk to me, she did not seem especially eager to start this conversation. I broke the silence by asking, “What do you want to talk to me about, Jane?”

“You are going to think this is a little bit weird, Mitch, but I’m doing this as a favor for a friend?”

“Ah, the old anonymous friend situation!” I stated to Jane to show I really didn’t believe her. “What can I do for this friend of yours?”

“Well, to be totally blunt,” Jane stated, “you can give her a first-rate fucking!”

I laughed loudly—which brought a disapproving stare from Mrs. Branco, the librarian who was seated across the room. I held up my hand and apologetically waved at her to acknowledge I was being too noisy for the venue. I lowered my voice to an acceptable whisper and said, “Alright, Jane. You know you’re going to have to explain that statement to me. What’s this all about?”

Jane took a long breath and began her monologue. It was certainly something new and potentially wonderful to me. “You might already know this,” she said. “My two best friends at this school are Donna Caporelli and Vivian Angelos.”

She was waiting for some sort of acknowledgement, so I uttered, “Yeah,” even though I had no idea who Jane’s friends were. Why would I know that?

Satisfied that I was at least listening, Jane continued, “Graduation is not very far off. When this school year started back in September, the three of us—who were all virgins—all vowed we would not graduate from high school that way. Without mentioning the names of the boys involved, both Donna and I kept that vow—but so far, Vivian hasn’t. Time is running out on her.” I was quietly startled. Jane did not seem to have any qualms about openly discussing her sex life and her two best friends’ sex lives.

I was starting to get the idea: I was supposed to provide stud service to a girl I barely knew just so she could keep a stupid pledge to herself and to two other girls I had hardly noticed in my four years at this high school. Nevertheless, as a healthy 18-year-old male, I was intrigued by all of this.

“You see what I’m driving at, don’t you, Mitch? You could be the boy for Vivian!”

“I don’t even know Vivian,” I honestly stated. “I’m not even sure I’d be able to recognize her from a photo.”

“She’s been in a couple of your classes over the years,” Jane insisted. “I guess she didn’t make much of an impression on you, though.”

Jane got that right. But she added, “Let’s see if Vivian is or isn’t familiar to you. I do have a photo of her.” She showed me a full-length picture of a girl whom I at least recognized, but not by name. At least not by that name.

“Oh, yes! Now I know who you mean,” I said. “She’s the one people call Beanpole.” It was because she was thin and tall. She had to be close to 5’10”. My estimate was accurate. At that height, Vivian was the tallest girl in the school—taller than most of the boys. I was an exception as I was exactly six feet tall.

“Yep,” Jane conceded. Vivian Angelos’ nickname is Beanpole. She’s not too fond of it, though.”

“Okay, so I now know who Vivian is. Why didn’t she ask me herself?”

“Mitch, Vivian is painfully shy—especially around boys. Her parents are Greek—and they are quite strict in her upbringing. According to Viv, she’s forbidden to go on dates or have a boyfriend until she is 20 years old. She’s known that since she was a small child. It made her afraid to talk to boys socially. She didn’t want to anger her folks—and she didn’t want to risk falling in love. Kind of a sad situation, huh?”

Yes, actually it was, but I just let Jane go on with her explanation.

“Anyway, the three of us got to talking the other day about Vivian’s problem. She’s a normal, healthy girl. At age 18, she has sexual desires like any other human being. Therefore, Donna and I, decided to help her out. Yesterday after school, we spent about an hour here in the library, after the last class ended, trying to figure out who would be a good candidate to take Vivian’s virginity. We got out last year’s yearbook to make a list of all the male students who were now in the twelfth grade this year. There were about 150 boys to choose from. Together we started culling the list.”

“Sounds like a big job,” I sincerely said.

“It was,” Jane continued. “We got rid of the effeminate ones, the macho meathead types, the idiots, the conceited boys, the clearly unattractive ones, and all the guys whose personal hygiene was questionable. That left us with a list of just 18 names.

I jumped in to say, “That sounds very thorough! I take it that I was one of those 18 boys.”

“Correct!” Jane announced. “You were one of the 18 finalists. Then we decided to leave it to chance.” Jane produced a deck of playing cards from her knapsack. “This is how Vivian’s sex partner was determined. I wrote down the names of the 18 boys. Beside each name I wrote the name of a card. I found those 18 cards in the deck and put them into an empty cardboard box. Then, just for fun, we had one of the student volunteers in the library draw a card. She didn’t know what it was for but she drew a card anyway. It was the four of hearts.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “My card was the four of hearts. Am I right?”

“Bingo!” Jane said. “Yes, you, Mitch Preston, were The Chosen One—chosen by fate, that is. When English lit class ended today, I followed you here to the library to give you the good news. Do you agree to do this for Vivian? Let me tell you that Vivian was quite happy about whose card was randomly drawn.”

My first reaction was to openly laugh. Then I asked Jane, “Am I on Candid Camera?”

Jane assured me that everything she said was true and she was not kidding. Then she added, “There are some conditions, though, Mitch. This has to be kept a secret. Vivian isn’t telling anyone. Donna and I aren’t telling anyone. You can’t tell anyone, either.

“That’s a secret I can keep,” I told her. I didn’t elaborate. I wasn’t particularly interested in having anyone know that I was going to have a roll in the hay with Beanpole.

“So that’s a yes, right?” Jane asked me.

“Yeah, count me in,” I clarified. “I just hope I don’t become the target of an angry and vengeful Greek father.”

Jane said she would phone Vivian to give her the good news. Then she would phone me with further details about when this tryst was going to happen and where. I wrote out my number for Jane on a scrap of paper. Later that same night Jane called me to say that Vivian would meet me the following day after school in the library to discuss the dirty details of our planned sexual romp. I told Jane to inform Vivian that I would meet her at the same table where we had been seated. It occurred to me to ask Jane if she herself would be there, too.

“No,” she said, “my work is done. It’s all up to Vivian now. Thanks, Mitch. Be kind and gentle to her.”

Part Two

At the arranged time the next day, both Vivian and I arrived nearly simultaneously. She was perhaps half a minute ahead of me as I saw her enter the library and head toward the secluded table.

She hadn’t yet taken a seat when I approached her. She smiled when she saw me. I smiled back at her. I extended my right arm for a handshake. She laughed. “Under the circumstances,” Vivian said, “I think a hug is more appropriate. It’s not like we are here to negotiate a business deal.” I was tempted to argue the point, but I just continued smiling. Then we embraced. The hug lasted longer than I expected. Vivian concluded it by kissing my cheek. I returned the favor.

We sat down beside each other. Vivian confessed. “That pitiful kiss on the cheek I just gave you was the first kiss I’ve ever given to a male outside my family. Can you believe it?”

“Well, that is hard to believe in this day and age,” I commented, “but if you say so, Vivian.”

“Yes, I say so,” she replied.

This was the first time I had ever taken a good look at this girl. Sure, Vivian Angelos was abnormally tall, but she wasn’t bad looking at all. She had a cute face and a pleasant build. She also had a warm, friendly presence about her. Her black hair was cut short. I generally preferred shorter girls with longer hair, but I wasn’t going to quibble. I was still curious about the entire situation, however.

“Why are you doing this, Vivian?” I bluntly asked her in a quiet, library voice. “I’m sure you realize there’s no federal statute that prohibits high school students from being virgins!”

“Yeah, I know,” she said with a sad tone. “But I feel I’m missing out on something. I’m 18 years old now. Forget my having no sexual experience, I also have zero romantic experience, either. I’ve always liked you, Mitch, but I’ve never had the nerve to tell you. There are only about four or five boys in this school I would want to be intimate with—and you were one of them. I was very happy when your card was drawn in the lottery. I likely would have bailed out of this plan if the card had belonged to someone I wasn’t attracted to, Mitch.”

I was startled to hear those words. I gave her another kiss on the cheek and told her that was indeed a very kind and flattering thing to say to me. Then I added. “You can still call this off. It wouldn’t hurt my feelings—but it would disappoint me.”

“That comment just earned you another kiss, Mitch!” She gave me a second peck on the cheek, which pleased me.

I was starting to like Vivian Angelos. She had many appealing qualities. I stood up from the table and led her to a difficult-to-see area of the school library where books on ancient history were stacked but seldom borrowed. Vivian sensed that a more substantial kiss was coming and beat me to the punch. Our lips met for a long, somewhat noisy smooch as we embraced each other with more gusto than we had before. Vivian began giggling the moment our lip-lock ended.

“See what you’ve been missing?” I asked her.

“Yes. It’s a damn shame, too!” she retorted. “You are a true gem, Mitch. Let’s figure out how and when we can get together for sex. I definitely want to have a long fuck with you.”

I told Vivian that I was one of three children in my family. I had a younger sister and brother. They and my parents were going away to a waterpark resort this coming weekend, so I’d have the whole house all to myself. I suggested that could provide the perfect venue for our carnal romp and gave her the address. I had written it out for her earlier in the day.

“How about Saturday at 1 p.m.?” she asked after pocketing my note. “I’ll tell my parents I’m going to Jane’s house, but I’ll come to your place instead for an afternoon of you-know-what.”

“A whole afternoon of you-know-what sounds wonderful to me, Vivian,” I stated. “My parents have a king-size bed. I suspect I was conceived on it! The last time I was on it was when I was six years old when my parents were on a trip and my grandmother was minding me.”

“Tell grandma to stay home on Saturday,” Vivian joked. “She isn’t welcome that day.”

Part Three

I spent most of Saturday morning preparing for my bedmate’s afternoon arrival. I had even bought a bottle of something akin to champagne to toast our relationship and make the day more memorable.

I made a point of dressing sharply for Vivian. I intended to be as gentlemanly about fucking her as any anxious, horny 18-year-old male could be. I did not foresee the sexual whirlwind I would experience.

At about three minutes to one, I saw Vivian approaching my house. She was unfamiliar with where I lived so she was trying to read the house numbers. Then Vivian saw me as I opened my front door. I waved her in. She sprinted across the front lawn instead of using the walkway extending from the house’s driveway. This girl was eager!

I had planned to offer Vivian a glass of faux champagne, but she wanted none of that. Instead, she wrapped her arms around me and drove me to the living room carpet in what could have been mistaken as a wrestling takedown. She positioned herself on top of me and gave me a series of long kisses. She also started rubbing my rapidly rising penis. This girl knew what she wanted!

I was almost taken aback. “Geez, Vivian!” I said between smooches. Control yourself…at least a little bit. I had planned on romancing you for a while…”

“No romance this afternoon, Mitch. I’ve been wanting to have sexual relations with a boy since I was 12 years old. I’m 18 now. I’m about to burst.”

I tried to sit up, but Vivian roughly pushed me back down onto the living room carpet a second time. Vivian then undid my belt, yanked off my trousers and briefs, and started yanking (not too gently, I might add) on my now fully erect dick.

I managed to jokingly say, “Well, Vivian, if you insist…you take charge!”

For a sexual novice, Vivian got straight to business with a very enjoyable blowjob. Her wonderful sucks, licks, yanks and ball-fondling were driving me toward an ejaculation in record time. I wanted to delay the inevitable for a few more moments, so I asked Vivian to remove her attractive yellow blouse and bra.

“Oh, how silly of me, Mitch. I almost forgot,” she apologized
.
Those garments were thrown from her body in about ten seconds. I was about to play with her cute, undersize breasts, but Vivian’s act of fellatio was too overwhelming. With a loud groan of pleasure, I shot a huge, white rope of goo that splashed onto her forehead and slowly dripped down her face. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life…up close, anyway.

“Hey, I must have done that right,” Vivian commented. “I read an article in a sex manual that gave instructions on how to give great blow jobs. Did you like it, Mitch?”

“Did I like it?” I repeated in astonishment. “Vivian, that has to be the silliest question ever. Look at the clock. It’s 1:03 p.m. You’ve been here only about five minutes, and you’ve already made me ejaculate like a porn star! You should see your face!”

I offered Vivian a box of Kleenex from a nearby table. I grabbed a handful of tissues, too, and helped her remove the cum from her face and a few strands that were dangling from her hair. Then I took the initiative ever so briefly. I picked her up and carried her to the king-size bed. I had intended to slowly remove her skirt—but Vivian was too quick for me. She cavalierly flung it to the floor along with her shoes, socks and cute light blue panties. Then she finished disrobing me. My shirt went flying over my head and fell gently somewhere on the bedroom floor. Vivian shoved me back on the bed, took my flaccid penis, and shoved it up her hot, tight vagina. My dick wasn’t soft for long.

As it became stiffer, Vivian became happier. “This feels great!” she squealed with delight. “I knew it would!” Vivian placed her hands on my shoulders so I couldn’t move—not that I really wanted to. She bounced and gyrated on me for about ten minutes until I came a second time. This time her pussy got my load. The bedroom clock radio read 1:14 p.m. At least Vivian was now somewhat tired. She fell forward on top of me, with my penis still impaled in her.

“How was that, Mitch?’ she asked me. “How did I do? I’m new at this, you know.”

“God help me if you were experienced,” I managed to say. “Vivian, you certainly fuck like a pro. You are amazing!”

“Oh, good!” she noted with surprise. “I read how to do that too in the same sex manual. I guess it’s a good learning source.”

“I need to know the exact title and its author so I can order it,” I said semiseriously. “Now will you let me do you, Vivian? I’d like to show you my appreciation for that last, incredible, 15 minutes.”

“Okay,” she happily agreed. “I like sex so far.” What a girl she was!

This time I pinned Vivian to the bed and sucked on her small tits. They were fun playthings, and I found myself sporting another erection because of them. I moved down her body to lick her vaginal area—even though I had just deposited a sizable load into it a few minutes before. Then I mounted her, missionary style, to give her a gentle fucking with slow, long thrusts of my throbbing rod. I thought I was pleasing her, but Vivian said sweetly, “Mitch honey, I prefer riding you. May I?”

She didn’t wait for my reply. Her “wrestling instincts” took over. Vivian rolled me on my back and resumed the bouncing and gyrating techniques that had made me come the second time. At least this time I freed my arms so I could caress her tits while she dominated me. Cum shot number three followed. I glanced at the clock and calculated that Vivian had only been at my house for 36 minutes.

“Vivian, your friend Jane made me promise that I’d be gentle with you,” I confessed. “She obviously was talking to the wrong person. You are a sexual wild woman!”

“Yeah, I guess I am. Yay!” she agreed. “What’s next, Mitch?”

Needing a respite, I convinced her that romance wasn’t a bad thing. We embraced kissed, quite sensually, for the better part of half an hour. Vivian freely let her hands wander to my lower abdomen during that time. I reciprocated by vigorously fondling her inviting young tits. Then an idea came to me, “Hey, how about I fuck those little jugs of yours, Vivian?”

“Okay, Mitch! Sounds like fun!” she merrily agreed.

Somehow, despite the wear and tear on it, my penis was stiff again. I straddled Vivian. I could tell by her facial expression she didn’t know what I was going to do until I placed my manhood between her sweaty tits. “Oh!” she said in realization as I began to maneuver my dick between the two small mounds. “Squeeze them together, Vivian. It makes the titty fuck more erotic!” She did. I don’t think I would have come again without that visual. I knew I had a small amount of jism still ready to fire. This time I deliberately came on her face. The small shot landed mostly near Vivian’s lips and on her nose. I told her to open her mouth. I used my fingers to scoop up dollops of cum and feed them to her. As a grand finale, I put my dick inside her mouth. She licked it clean.

For the next 20 minutes, we just held one another tightly and breathed heavily. It had been a thoroughly exhausting workout for me—and it had been anything but gentle.

We began to converse whenever we were not kissing heavily again. Vivian asked me what my plans were for that night. (I suspected she wanted to extend our tryst into the evening.) I replied by saying I had tentatively planned to attend a local semipro baseball game. I politely asked her if she wanted to go with me.

“I love baseball. I watch it on TV with my father all the time,” she stated. “But I can’t go with you, Mitch. I’m sorry. Somebody might see me at the ballpark with you and tell my folks I was on a date. I’m not supposed to have a boyfriend or anything like a date until I’m 20 years old.”

I shook my head at the weird contradiction. “I see, Vivian. You can sneak off to my place, jump into the sack with me, and outdo a professional sex worker for hours on end, but you can’t be seen with me at a baseball game! Makes perfect sense…"

“Yeah, I know,” she said with a chuckle. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? So, let’s just fuck some more! Mitch, I think I’m getting the hang of it!”