Chapter 19
Having given it more thought, I have decided to try again with Donna. After all, reforming one as notoriously and sexually uninhibited as Donna, would be an important victory.
I approached the matron.
"Madam, I wanted to talk to you about one of the inmates. Donna."
"What about her?"
"I would like to work more closely with her for a few months and see if there's not something that could be done for her after all."
"What do you think the little fucker of innocents, that despoiling witcher of babes, could be taught? And could she be taught by any means other than by forceful persuasion?"
"Yes, I think so. You see, Ma'am, there's always a psychological perversion involved in such cases. If I could get her to reveal it to me, I could help her to help herself. When she left here, she wouldn't ever get herself into a position where she would be committing a sex crime."
The matron looked at me for a while. "All right," she finally said, "I'll give you six months. But no more. Do you understand? No more. I don't expect you'll get anywhere. But if you can show some positive results, then I'll let you continue. Agreed?"
I smiled. "That's all I need, I think. Thank you, ma'am." I rose and left, planning my attack of Donna's mental barriers.
I had to win! I must win!
But, what, I wondered, conversely, if Donna was one of those rare people who didn't have a sex problem? Well, I told myself, she would when I got done with her!
I waited a week, formulating my plans and going over her records carefully. I doubt if there was a single thing I could start with ... except ...
She had mentioned in one of her questioning periods something about a long time ago boyfriend. She had just glossed over with a reference and a name, but there was, here, a starting place.
I made a mental note to begin with Harry.
I had her come for an appointment later in the day, as this would enable us to take extra time if necessary.
I would need all the help I could get and time was a very useful commodity of which I didn't have that fucking much. I would have to make the most of each minute.
"I thought," she said as she came into the room, “that you were all done with me?"
"I thought so too, Donna. But I was going over your record for the last time before putting it away and I came across the reference to Harry. Who was Harry?"
She frowned and sat down in the hard-backed chair.
"I really don't want to drag him into this. He was different than anything else and I want to keep his memory clean ... that means, no sharing, no telling, not a single thing."
She folded her arms across her tits and stared at me. Suddenly, she was being uncooperative and belligerent with me.
"Donna, do you want to get out of here, someday?"
"Of course and I will, too."
"Not if I say you're unfit for social reinstatement." I let that sink in.
"You mean that if I tell you about Harry and me, you'll let me go? What's your game, anyway?"
I looked at her, mustering all the self-righteousness I would have felt if I'd had her interests-and hers only-at heart. "Really, Donna, my only game-as you put it-is your recovery and cure from this possessive necessity."
"I smell a rat, doctor."
"What do you mean? Is something wrong?"
"Yeah. Your sudden and new interest. You want to know everything about me. You weren't that interested before. Oh, you were interested. But only in me as another patient. Like last time I was here."
"It's no different. Like I said," I replied, "I had almost given you up as incurable and beyond help when I ran across this short reference to Harry."
"So?"
"As you know, I wasn't your counselor in the beginning. You were transferred from another man. I suppose he must have missed Harry."
"So?"
"Well, Harry could be important, to you, I mean and to your mental health. Won't you help me help you?"
She stared at me, sullenly. I had hit a very sensitive nerve in her memory and relationships. Whoever Harry was-or is-he was a key, if not the key. Explain Harry, I thought and I have my case.
Then she began talking. Of course, it didn't all come out in the following order-all neat and presentable. There were gaps, flashbacks, things that I had to drag out of her with great circumspection. There were little things she either forgot or suppressed.
She never met Harry until she went into high school. and for the size of the school, they probably wouldn't have met except that they were in class together and seated side by side in desks.
The first day she noticed him because he was so very, very handsome. His hair, eyes, build and features were so like hers-almost like they could have been identical twins!
And, he noticed there close resemblance.
But, she was shy about introducing herself to him. Apparently, he was just as shy. Two weeks passed in unspoken silence.
Then, they found themselves in competition with each other for the top grades in the class. And they went at it in earnest, vying for both the teacher's approval and for the highest marks.
It was the first cool day of Fall and Donna had worn only a sweater. As she stepped from the school building, she saw that it was drizzling.
Standing there, she shivered with the chill of the late and dark afternoon.
"Where's your coat?"
She whirled at the familiar voice. Harry, her class competition and look-alike, stood just behind her.
"I forgot it." She felt embarrassed and the blush rose in her cheeks.
He smiled. "I didn't feel like taking mine this morning, but mum insisted. Now I'm glad."
"Why?"
"Because I'll share with you and walk you home ... that is ... if you don't mind ... "
She smiled at him.
"Thank you, Harry. I'd like that."
Unbuttoning his trench-coat, he offered it to her.
"You take half, too," she said.
He came close to her and put his arm around her. They both felt embarrassed at this close gesture, but she rationalized that it was to keep from getting wet and a chill, so she did not move away.
She found that she liked his arm around her-that is, once she got used to the strange feeling.
She couldn't explain to herself, much less to him, what she was feeling. She didn't know or have the words as she had never known of such a thing-a feeling, a being.
But she did not and still she couldn't have said why, but she knew she did not want her mother or father to know she had been in such close proximity with a boy-even for the laudable purpose of keeping her dry.
When they came to her street, she stopped.
"Thank you, Harry," she said and smiled. "I'll go on from here alone."
He looked at her. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She looked in that minute like a startled fawn, her eyes big and innocent. "I just think I should go home alone, this time."
"Doesn't your mother want you around boys at all?"
"I don't know."
"Huh?"
"Well, I mean, I haven't ever discussed it with her. Nor she with me." She looked solemn. "But, I'll tell you what ... I'll ask her if you can come over tomorrow afternoon with me and we'll study together."
"Fine. I'd like that. See you tomorrow, Donna."
"Good-bye. Until tomorrow, then."
She turned and walked down the short block to her parents' house.
Turning at the entrance to the walk, she paused in the rain and waved to him, standing on the corner with his coat over his shoulders. He waved back.
At dinner she broached the subject to her mother.
"Momma," she asked, "my classmate, Harry Winters and I would like to study together. May he come home with me tomorrow after school?"
Her mother looked at her daughter. "Why do you want to bring a boy home? Surely, a girlfriend would be better!" Her mother paused. "Yes, bring a girlfriend home if you wish. But no boys. You're a mere child."
"Yes, mother," she said and bowed her head in submission.
That was that!
But, Donna didn't want to call it quits at that point, so she began going to the library-or so she told her mother. It was perfectly true that she did have a research paper due that semester. But she had study halls and got all the work done for that on class time.
What she didn't tell her mother was where she was going to the 'library'-with Harry, to his house.
His mother was very nice. She didn't ask questions, accepting on face value that Harry and Donna liked each other and liked studying together.
She often left them completely alone while she was out of the house. While she was gone on one of these little jaunts, Harry was lying on the floor, watching Donna doing her homework.
Suddenly, Donna was conscious of being watched. Looking up, she saw him looking across the books at her.
She blushed.
"Hi."
"What?"
"Nothing," he replied, "except that you're the most beautiful girl I ever knew-except Mom, that is."
"Oh," she said, blushing deeper. "Thank you."
"Will you let me walk you at least part way home tonight?"
"Well, I ... yes, I will."
"Good. And will you go to the movies with me on Saturday?"
She looked at him for a minute. "I'd like to ... could we be back before four o'clock in the morning?"
"Well, sure," he said and smiled, "long before that, I hope. Why?"
"Well Momma and Daddy are going out and they'll be late. She told me so last week."
"When shall I pick you up?"
"Oh, gosh, after nine. Nine-thirty."
"Right."
They went back to their studying as his mother's car pulled into the driveway.
That Saturday night, her mother questioned her staying home alone.
"Don't you have a sitting job, Donna?"
"Not tonight, Momma. I've got this awful headache and ... "
"Oh, dear. Tom, we can't go. Donna's not well. And I can't leave her here alone and ill."
"Momma. It's all right. I've got a headache, not pneumonia. I’ll go to bed early and will be all right in the morning."
"Nonsense," her mother said. "Tom!"
"Grace," her father said, "the child'd only resent it if you don't stop babying her. Come on, we'll be late."
"Tom! How can you say that when our child ..."
"Grace!" When her father said his wife's name like that, she desisted immediately.
"Yes, dear," she said, but she was worried. "I'll call you every half hour, Donna ... "
"No, Grace. You're going to leave the child alone with her headache. I'll just bet that she really wants a few hours to herself. I'm sure she needs them."
"Why, Tom. What a horrid thing to say. Children love to be with their parents. Children shouldn't be left alone ... ever."
"Grace, children need to be alone for some time. You've never let Donna have any privacy, whatsoever. You've always been down her throat."
"Now, let's go. She'll be all right." He ushered his worried wife out the door.
Donna heard him telling her that she was not to call the child, either. "I hope if you do, she doesn't answer, just for spite. Leave the child alone for a single evening, will you, Grace?"
They were gone, then.
Donna rushed upstairs and dressed. She was ready almost before he came knocking at the door.
"Hi," he laughed. He had a hand behind his back.
"Hi," she breathed. "What are you hiding?"
"Oh, nothing." Then he produced a small corsage. A single flower-and white at that. "Like it?"
"It's wonderful. Thank you." As she took it from him, she reached up and pecked at his cheek. But as he was turning his head at the same time, their lips met.
It was like fire and ice. Donna felt herself sizzling and freezing all in that single instant. Something within her exploded.
She didn't want to go to the movies. She just wanted to be with Harry ... alone with him ... totally alone.
She steeled herself to ask ...
"Harry ...?"
"Yes."
"Would you mind, terribly, if we ... if we ... well ... " She couldn't control the blush.
"Stayed home from the movies?" he finished for her.
"Yes. You see, I told mother that I had a headache and she wanted to stay home. I know she'll be calling ... "
He smiled. "I understand. Mothers can be a problem, at times."
She smiled. "I'm so glad you understand. Come on in. Want to hear my records?"
"Sure."
"Here let me take your coat."
She led him upstairs to her room where her records and her own player were. They went in, closing the door after them. She put on her favorites and they settled quite naturally down on the bed, the only place to be comfortable except the floor which was drafty and hard, having no carpet.
Mostly for a while they listened to the music and talked about the singers and their songs-which they liked, which they didn't, which they had in common on both sides.
He put his arm across her waist and she felt that wonderful feeling come across her again. Then he kissed her-just a little.
She felt something inside of her snap and she instinctively ground her mouth into his.
Their first kiss was gently taken. The second was the promise of the ice and fire. Before she knew what had happened, she was over onto her back and he lay just a little on top of her, his mouth grinding back at hers.
She moved beneath him, sensuously and didn't even realize what she was doing. She felt a burning growing between her legs.
Moaning with the desire and delight, she began to roll her hips, trying to make the burning stop itching. Instead, it only grew and excited Harry the more.
When the kiss ended, his mouth continued on down over her cheek and chin, down to her throat. She loved it and began purring with delight at the delicate ripples of desire that surged through her body.
She trembled all over, as he was trembling now.
"Harry ..."
"Yes," he said raising his head.
"What's happening. I ... feel so ... "
"Tingly?" he suggested.
"Yes," she exclaimed in a low voice. "Yes, tingly." She shivered. "All over, too." She shivered again. "What am I feeling?"
"Love, honey. Love."
"Oh, love." She rolled the word over her tongue as though just discovering a brand new word-which she felt she had. "Whom do I love?"
"Me, of course."
"Of course. I love you, Harry."
He leaned down and kissed her mouth again ... fiercely again with pressure.
She responded with vigor, rather than experience. It was only her third kiss, ever.
His fingers tangled in her hair and sent shivers down her spine. She imitated him and twined her fingers through his shorter hair.
She felt him react to that and lowered her fingers, exploring his new and fascinating body. He was doing the same with her.
When his hands reached the buttons on the front of her blouse, he began unbuttoning them casually. She did not try to stop him.
His fingers worked their way down, down, down until something inside of her reacted. His hands on her tits, now both of them were on her swelling melons and he was gently squeezing them.
She felt a fire raging within her cunt and didn't know how or why she felt as she did. But it so clearly was because of Harry's proximity, his flesh touching hers, his mouth on hers, his body heating into hers.
He pulled her gaping blouse apart as she went to work on his shirt, opening the buttons and revealing his hairless chest.
Her hands felt searchingly all over his growing muscular torso as he returned the compliment on her boobs and cupped them in his hands.
Then, his hands went lower, to her waist and his lips moved down to her tits, caressing and kissing, licking and scrubbing them with his tongue.
She sighed and wiggled, increasing both of their longings and desires.
Suddenly his hands pushed down to her skirt and then shoved up. His hands lay on her belly.
She trembled with anticipation as the hot little chills ran across her belly and it curled up on itself under his rotating palm.
"Like that?" he asked.
"Love it." she replied. "Do it some more."
He complied and she felt the waves intensify and race madly across her young and virginal eager body.
Now he was working with the frenzied haste of the very young and inexperienced. His hands were gentle, though.
She felt herself being transported into a special world along with him. They were off and floating on a private cloud of their own. Neither of them heard the record playing the same line, stuck, over and over until it wore the plastic out.
She wiggled and spread her legs apart as his fingers probed into her hot and steamy cunt. She felt as though her pussy were swelling. But she thought it was only a part of the itchy feeling that burned within her body.
His index finger accidentally hit her clitoris and as she leaped, gasping with pleasure, he repeated this new discovery.
He gasped himself when he felt the discovered knot of skin, so like a callous, begin to swell. In fact, he noticed that her whole pussy was swelling and becoming more rigid.
Just like his aching prick.
"Donna?"
"Yes."
"Will you do me a favor?"
"What?"
"Will you suck my cock off?"
"Your what?"
"Here, I'll show you," he said. Opening the fly of his pants, he extracted his prick. It was full, swollen and purple with desire and want.
His breath caught in his throat as did hers.
"How do I do it?"
"Suck it ... like it was a straw, I suppose."
She bent her head over his slightly trembling pecker and opened her mouth.
The front door opened.
"Tom, I'm worried, I tell you. Donna just doesn't have headaches. She's never had one in her life."
"All right," he answered pettishly, "all ... is that her player I hear at this hour?"
"Yes, it is. Donna?"
Upstairs, Donna and Harry were trapped until she thought of his leaving quickly through the window.
"Honey," he whispered, "I'll be back and we'll finish sometime," he promised her.
"Yes, we shall. I promise, too."
Closing the window, she left the player and stripped. Grabbing her gown, she pulled it on, turned off all but the small light and jumped into bed.
When Grace opened the door, her daughter had fallen asleep and the light and player were still on. Silently the worried mother went and turned them both off, happy that she was home.