Therapist Ch. 02

It is early Sunday morning and George is just returning to LSU from visiting his mother in New Orleans for Thanksgiving. He is on his way to Donna's apartment on Nicholson Drive just off campus. He knows that Donna likes to sleep late on Sundays but he needs to see her. After what happened while he was visiting his mother, he needs to know that she still cares about him. He needs to know that she loves him.

While driving into the parking lot of her apartment he reminisces about when they first met and started dating.

***********************************

It was originally in his course on English literature. At that time, she approached him after class one day and asked him if he would like to work with her on an assignment that the professor had given the class. He agreed. He is not too good at grammar so she began helping him write some of his compositions.

They had been seeing each other, meeting for lunch in the student union together and studying together for a couple of weeks when she asked him to help her look up something in the library.

Later, as they walked back to her apartment, he held her hand. The next afternoon when they met in the Greek Theater, she kissed him on the lips; it was the first time he had ever been kissed by a girl. But he did not tell her this.

"Want to go to the game this Friday night," Donna asks him.

They are sitting in the fifth row of the theater. She is sitting in his lap, straddling his thighs. Her arms are around his neck and she is playing with the label on the back of his T-shirt. He has his hands on her sides, just holding her.

"Sure," George answers her, "I haven't been to any of the games yet. It will be nice to do something different for a change."

"George, you're a freshman at LSU and you tell me you have never gone to any of our football games? I don't believe that. Why not? What's wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with me. I've never been to a football game in my life or a baseball game or a basketball game or any kind of ball game. I don't like playing ball. I'd rather play chess. To me chess is a whole heck of a lot more brutal than any sport I can think of."

"Oh, come on," Donna says mockingly. "I've played chess before and it don't seem all that vicious to me."

"You might have played chess but do you know the strategy behind the movement of the pieces?"

"No, not really."

"Well in football there's a rule against piling on once the man is down, but in chess if you don't pile on the pressure you'll lose. Again in football you cannot hit a man when he is down, but in chess if you don't hit him when he's down, then he'll win the game. You cannot hit a man below the belt, but in chess if you don't hit your opponent in his weak spot, then you'll lose."

"You really think so? I mean, in other sports you psych your opponent up and there are all kinds of strategies to win, including hitting an offensive or defensive line in its weak spot and things like that."

"Sure there is some mental gymnastics and strategy in other sports but nothing like the psychological warfare and strategy that exist in chess."

He runs his fingers through his hair.

"For example, in football once you've broken through your opponent's line and tackled the quarterback the play is over. Not so in chess, once you've broken through your opponent's defenses you have to hit him again and again or he's going to be able to regroup and then get you."

Donna does not answer him. She is just sitting in his lap, straddling his thighs and looking into his eyes.

George continues, "In chess if you're not totally, ruthlessly brutal with your opponent, then you'll lose the game."

He pauses.

Then "In any contact sport you're expected to conduct yourself in a sportsman like demeanor. You're supposed to exhibit sportsmanlike conduct. If you don't then you will be penalized. You can't attack your opponent with the intention of actually hurting him physically or again, you will be penalized. He can and does expect you to be somewhat merciful with him once you have him quote down unquote."

He makes the quote sign with his fingers.

"For example, you can't repeatedly hit the quarterback once you've tackled him. But in chess there is no such expectation. You're expected to continually hit the king until he surrenders or is checkmated."

Donna still does not answer him. She is just looking into his eyes, seeing a brutal side of George she has never seen before.

"In chess you sit across from your opponent, you skewer his pieces and watch him squirm. You do not offer him quarters nor do you take prisoners. I can't think of any sport that is more violent or more brutal than chess. In all other sports you merely attack a man's physical body. In chess you attack his ego, his pride. There's nothing more brutal than that except actual warfare."

"I never thought of chess that way. I always looked upon it as just a complicated board game."

"That's how most people look at chess. But they don't understand the strategy behind the game. When I was in high school I was called a geek and a loser by a lot of the other students. They laughed at me because I preferred to sit by myself and study chess moves than to play ball. But I didn't . . ."

"George, I don't think you're a geek. I think you're a kind, sweet, gentle soul. And I'm not just saying that. I like you George. I'm falling in love with you George. I'm sure of it."

George lowers his eyes momentarily. When he looks up she is leaning forward, her face only inches away from his. An October breeze catches her long brown hair and blows it in his face. She brushes the hair aside and kisses him lightly on the lips. Then she quickly kisses him again openmouthed, her tongue darting into his mouth.

He kisses her back. After several long seconds she breaks the kiss and says lightheartedly, "I don't believe that I could fall in love with a geek."

"OK, let's go to the game together. Who are we playing?" he asks changing the subject. He doesn't know what else to say. He has never been in love before.

"I don't know who we're playing this week either but I want to buy you a new LSU T-shirt for the game. One that matches the one I have. That way we can go to the game as a team ourselves. Would you like that?"

"Yes, I would love it." He wraps his arms around her hugging her. For the first time in his life George is happy.

************************************

As he is walking up the stairs to her apartment he notices a used condom on the top step. He thinks how disgusting it is.

"If they must have sex outside of marriage, why don't they dispose of their whoredom properly?" he says to himself as he steps around it. He knows that Donna would never have sex outside of marriage. She's not a tramp; she's a nice girl.

He had hoped he would have been able to eventually introduce Donna to his mother. But now, because of what he has done, he can't. He can never introduce the two of them. Why couldn't his mother accept it when he told her about Donna? Why couldn't his mother be more understanding? Why did that bitch have to force him to make a choice?

Now he is glad that Donna did not come with him to New Orleans as he originally wanted. He didn't want to leave her on campus by herself over the Thanksgiving holidays but she insisted he go alone. She told him that it would be better if he just told his mother about their relationship for right now. She said that there would be plenty of time later for her to meet his mother.

He knocks on the door to her small apartment. After several minutes, she opens the door to let him in. She is still in her sheer neglige. The baby blue nightie is just long enough to cover her cheeks and vagina. It is tied with a bow just below her breasts; her navel is showing.

She invites him in but he hesitates; he can see her nipples through the sheer material. George has never seen a woman dressed in a sheer neglige before.

His mother taught him that it is degrading to a woman for a man to look upon her if she is not properly dressed. She told him that people would think that she's a tramp if he enters into her apartment and she is not properly dressed. He does not want to destroy Donna's good reputation. So he says, "You're not decent. I'll wait outside until you're dressed." He turns his head and looks away.

"George, you woke me up. Come in. Don't be so modest; I'll put on a robe. Just be quiet and don't wake my roommate."

While Donna gets a robe from the closet, George keeps his eyes focused on the floor. He does not want her to see him looking at her body. He does not want to give her the impression that he is after her sex. He wants her to like him for himself. His mother taught him that.

Donna sits on the edge of her bed. She has not yet put on the robe; she is holding it in her lap. "What's so important that you had to wake me at . . . what time it is," she looks at the clock on her nightstand, "at 7:19 on a Sunday morning?"

"I just had to see you that's all. I missed you. I thought about you all during the holidays."

"Come here and sit next to me on the bed. Hey! What happened to your eye; it's all bloodshot."

"I tripped over some boxes in my garage," he lies to her as he sits down. He is glad that his long sleeve shirt hides his scarred wrists.

He looks across the room to see her roommate sleeping in her own bed. He can see her bare back and wonders if she has on any panties. Donna once told him that she sleeps in the nude. His mother told him that only whores and bad boys sleep in the nude.

Donna touches the side of his face with her hand. He takes her hand in his and looks away. He is very uncomfortable sitting next to the nearly nude coed.

"Are you going to put your robe on?" he asks her. He is embarrassed.

"What's the matter?" she asks.

"Nothing. It's just that I've never seen a girl in a nightgown before."

"It's alright. Why don't we go out for some breakfast, my treat?" She gets up and walks across the room to a vanity dresser. She throws the robe over the back of a nearby chair. Her back is to him. She watches him through the mirror behind the vanity dresser as she takes off the top to her nightie.

He is watching her. She smiles seductively at him through the mirror. Then she bends over at the waist and slides the bottom of the neglige down her smooth legs, presenting her ass to him. She is naked when she stands up. She looks in the mirror again and sees that George is looking away.

"George, I told you not to be so modest," she says to him. "It's not like I'm stripping in front of an audience. I did it for you."

He looks at her. "I've never seen a naked woman in the flesh before." In one glance, he takes all of her in. He can see her naked back and her very round, naked ass. Through the mirror, he can see her breasts, her navel and her vagina with a thin crop of dark pubic hair. Years of repressed sexuality suddenly floods upon him. He feels a stirring in his groin.

"Well, you've seen one, you've seen them all," she says to him jokingly.

She walks over to a chest of drawers. She opens a drawer and takes out a bra. She watches him as she puts in on. He is just staring at her, at her vagina. She takes a thong out of the drawer. She turns around and bends over again, again presenting her ass to him. She slides the thong up her legs.

When she straightens up, she turns around to face him. He is still just staring at her, mesmerized by her nudity.

"George, come out of it."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You're beautiful."

"You're just saying that because you've seen my naked ass."

"No, I'm not. I think you're a very beautiful woman."

She takes a pair of jeans out of a drawer and puts them on. "My breasts are too small," she says as she buttons the jeans and pulls up the zipper.

"I don't think so."

She cups her breasts and adjusts her bra. "Are you saying that because you saw them just now?"

"No." He bows his head and looks at the floor. He is very uncomfortable, never having been in the same room with a naked woman and never having discussed sex with a woman before this. The only thing he knows bout sex is what very little his mother told him when he was younger.

She turns around, takes a T-shirt out of another drawer and puts it on, keeping her back to him. Then she takes a pair of socks out of a drawer and comes and sits next to him on the bed. She puts on the socks. Next she reaches under her bed and pulls out a pair of shoes. She puts them on.

While she is doing this neither of them says anything to the other. George has just been sitting on the bed watching her get dressed. Then Donna turns to face him.

"George, have you ever had sex before?"

He looks away from her. Then he looks at the floor again. "No," he says almost inaudibly. "I'm a virgin."

"That's great George! That means you don't have any STDs. I don't have any STDs either and since I'm on the pill and can't get pregnant, that means we don't have to use a condom when we have sex." She puts her arms around his neck and tries to kiss him but he breaks away from her and stands up.

He looks at her incredulously. He cannot believe what he just heard her say. "Let's go to breakfast," he says changing the subject.

"Don't you want to make love to me?" she asks in a playfully but sexy voice.

"No! Not now. I just want to eat breakfast." Never having been in this type of situation before, he does not know what else to say.

"OK, but I'm yours when you want me baby," she says and then she pecks him on the cheek. "Let's go to that little diner around the corner. I like their rolls."

The noise of their talking causes Donna's roommate to stir in her sleep; she turns over and George can see her naked breasts. They have never met before.

He is suddenly filled with fear that she will wake up and get out of bed. Then he will see all of her naked body. She is a total stranger to him and he does not want to see her naked because his mother told him that only bad boys look at naked women. His mother would not like it if she found out that he had looked at a naked woman.

Also, he does not want to be in the room with her if she gets out of bed because it might embarrass Donna. He takes hold of Donna's hand and pulls her from the room. They go to the diner around the corner that Donna suggested.

Neither of them says anything during the short walk to the diner. They find a seat in the back.

"What would you like, my treat?" she asks.

"Just some eggs and sausage. I'll pay for it."

"Let me get it George. I can afford it; you can't. Remember, I got that trust my parents left me and all you got is that cheap ass scholarship and that dirty dorm room you share."

"OK," he answers her.

George is in shock. The events of the past weekend, seeing Donna naked – the only girl he has ever seen naked – and Donna's wanting to have sex with him are all too much. He does not want to have sex with Donna. He wants to love her, to marry her and have children with her. Sex should come after marriage. That's what his mother taught him. His mother told him that only whores have sex before marriage.

He eats his breakfast in silence wondering why Donna suggested they have sex. Donna is a nice girl; she's a virgin not a whore. She would never have sex before marriage. Donna notices his silence but says nothing. After his revelation to her that he is a virgin, she only wants to get him back in her apartment and make love.

After they finish eating, George suggests they go for a drive to see the state capital; he has never seen it. He is afraid that she will try to get him into her apartment to have sex. Her talk of sex has puzzled him. Donna is a good girl and good girls don't have sex before marriage. His mother told him that.

He is also confused over how he should respond if she approaches the subject again. So as he drives, he talks about the English Literature class they have together, a movie they saw together the other night, the LSU Tigers and their chances of going to a bowl game – he knows nothing about football. He talks incessantly about several subjects, anything but sex. Donna has resigned to waiting till later to have sex with him.

After seeing the capital together, he continues to drive around Baton Rouge trying to think of something, someplace to go, always keeping the conversation off sex.

After driving around for over two hours, George asks her if she wants to go to New Orleans and visit the Aquarium of the Americas. He knows that she loved to go to the aquarium when she lived in New Orleans. Donna agrees, thinking that she will get him into her apartment later this evening.

The drive to New Orleans is uneventful. Donna sleeps most of the way. George is thankful for that as he is afraid that the subject of sex will come up again. He doesn't know how to respond to questions about sex. His mother never told him how.

He wonders whether or not he should introduce Donna to his mother while they are in New Orleans. Then he remembers that his mother is dead. His mind is in total confusion.

When they finish touring the Aquarium it is nearing five o'clock. Donna wants to go to one of the seafood restaurants by the lake in Bucktown and get something to eat. George readily submits. He wants to get back to LSU as late as possible in order to avoid discussing sex with her, in order to avoid having sex with her. He wants to wait until after they are married to have sex. His mother would have wanted it that way.

Dinner is quiet; they spend it in small talk. But the pressure on him is immense. It has been that way all day. His mind is and has been in total confusion. Donna is a good girl and good girls don't have sex before marriage. That's what his mother taught him. But then why did she say that they won't have to use a condom when they have sex. He cannot think clearly. He is confused.

When they finish eating, they stroll together along the Lake Pontchartrain seawall. They sit on a nearby bench and George begins to tell Donna about his mother, about how wonderful she is, about how kind and loving his mother is. He can hardly wait to introduce them. He tells Donna that he knows that his mother and she will get along fine.

Donna puts her arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder and tells him that she hopes so. She does not realize that he is speaking of a fantasy mother, the mother of his dreams. She does not realize that George is slowly losing control of his mind.

A cool breeze blows up and she suggests they sit in the car where it's warmer. George opens the car door for her. They sit in silence for several minutes. George is trying to think of something to say. But his mind is blank; he is in total confusion. He keeps saying to himself over and over again: Donna is a good girl and good girls don't have sex before marriage.

After several minutes of sitting in silence Donna states the unthinkable.

"George, I want to go back to my apartment and make love with you."

His reply is instantaneous. "I think we should wait until after we're married. It's what my mother would want."

"Married! George I don't want to get married. I just want to fuck." It was the exact wrong thing to say to him.

"Please Donna, don't talk like that. It makes you sound cheap. It makes you sound like a common whore." It was the exact wrong thing to say to her.

She takes offense at being compared to a whore. "George, I'm not a whore. I may not be a virgin like you but I'm not a whore."

He looks at her in shocked disbelief. He cannot believe what he just heard her say. She's not a virgin! Donna is not a good girl; Donna had sex before marriage. Doesn't she realize what he did for her? Who he killed for her? He wouldn't have killed his mother for a whore! He wouldn't have told his mother to get fucked for a common whore.