David's Friend Vivian, Ch 1
My name is David Thornberry.
It happened when I was just 18 in 1958 and I have to admit that I still feel rather ashamed at what I did.
In 1958 one of my parents' closest friends died. He was a well respected member of the village and was chairman of the cricket club, clerk to the parish council and treasurer of the village hall committee. His funeral was to take place at his place of birth which was at the other end of the country. My parents planned to pay their respects and to leave early and stay the night there.
Two of our neighbours decided to go to the funeral too, and booked the same hotel as mum and dad. My parents suggested that they should travel together and it was agreed that all four of them should travel up in our neighbour's large Volvo estate.
Reg and Vera, the neighbours, had a daughter named Vivian. She was twenty years old, just two years older than me.
I had not seen Vivian for several years mainly because I had been away at school but also she lived only for television and hardly left her home.
I was completing my final year at an all boys boarding school and was home over the half term.
I have to admit that I was, at that time of my life, extremely frustrated sexually. There were no women at my school, except for Matron and the school secretary and the both appeared to be well into their sixties.
I led a typical celibate schoolboy life style which involved dreaming of women all day and wanking furiously at night in my room or whenever the coast was clear.
There were also dirty magazines in the sixth form common room but these all mysteriously disappeared at the beginning of term and found their way into my study bedroom. I had to ditch them eventually when the pages became stuck together.
My thoughts were always taken up with girls and women. I used to fantasise about them all the time. At any opportunity I would stare at their breasts and legs under their clothes and imagine what it would be like to see them completely naked. Hormonally speaking I was a walking time-bomb, ready to 'explode' inside my underpants at the least stimulation.
***
The Morning.
On the morning of the day of the funeral I heard the phone ring and my mother answered.
"It's Vera, George," she shouted up to my father who was still shaving, "Vivian's coming here to stay as they have an electrical fault and it can't be repaired for two days."
"David, can you look after Vivian while we all go up to the funeral?" my mother said to me with an imploring look in her eyes.
Before I had a chance to reply she was telling Vera to bring Vivian and an overnight bag and that I would be able to look after her.
Secretly my mind was racing. This would be the first time in my life that I would be alone in a house with a girl, and she would stay the night. I was almost shaking with excitement and felt my penis stiffen.
I rushed to the back door and ran up the garden, through a gap in the hedge and into our large orchard which was some distance from the house. When I was out of range I dropped my trousers and underpants and masturbated wildly, and as I emptied my semen onto the grass I whispered "Vivian," in a strangled gasp.
***
The Arrival
It was 9 o'clock in the morning when the big Volvo swung into our gravel drive and up to the front door. I peered out from my bedroom window and waited to see what Vivian looked like. I imagined her as the nervous tall gawky girl who used to spill jelly down her dress at childhood parties. I expected a scaled up version of her and I certainly wasn't expecting the vision of loveliness which stepped out of the car.
I had to polish my glasses thoroughly as I watched the tall elegant young woman ease herself out of the rear passenger's seat and stand fidgeting in front of our entrance door. She had a small valise in her hand and looked rather nervous. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a high pony tail.
"David, they're here," shouted my mother from the hall.
I leapt down the stairs in four giant steps and landed, as usual, with aplomb, at the side of my mum. I had been doing that since I was twelve years old and still got the predictable "You'll break your neck one day," remark from my father.
I grinned at him like a sheep and waited for Vivian Lloyd to make her entrance.
My mum opened the door and there she was, Vivian Alice Lloyd aged twenty,"
"Hello Vivian, do come in," said my mother, smiling in her usual motherly way.
"Thank you Mrs Mrs. Thornberry," she stammered nervously. I knew that she stuttered and stammered but had forgotten just how bad she was.
She saw me standing behind my mum and blushed and looked away. I stepped forward and took her small valise and grinned at her insanely not knowing what to say.
In the meantime my father was helping Reg to repack the back of the Volvo to make room for their suitcases. My mother's suitcase was the largest as she always took too much, even if it was for just one night.
Soon everything was ready for their journey and I watched them reverse down the drive and onto the road while Vivian and I waved as they drove off.
***
"Can I take your coat?" I said to the tall slim blonde girl standing in the hall.
It was only when she took her mackintosh off that I really noticed how incredibly beautiful she was. She reminded me of a French film star not only in looks but by the way she stood.
"Thank, thank you very much," she said handing me her coat which felt warm and smelled strongly of her perfume.
"I'll, I'll just hang it up for you," I stuttered nervously as I became aware that the mere fact of being alone with such beauty was having an effect on my normal 'happy go lucky' outlook.
I couldn't tell who was more nervous of the other but I had a serious aim which seemed to suddenly cure my nervousness. I was determined to see her knickers.