Saturday 12 November 2011

Donna Goes Straight

It was another party. One of Nellie’s rugby playing friends was celebrating his thirtieth and we were invited to join the throng. This was no posh do, it was a typical rugby club piss up. Despite this Donna and I made an effort to look good for each other. This naturally led to a little ‘puss and pull’ before we were finally ready to stroll hand in hand to the venue. Nellie had pulled out all the stops and looked like a cross between Dolly Parton and a Christmas Fairy. Her chest was proudly displayed and her fiancé was clearly a tit man – he barely left her side all evening. Donna and I mingled, sometimes together, sometimes separately and were enjoying ourselves. I may have mentioned that I am an incompetent dancer. Donna is not. She has a feline grace that sometimes seems as though her skeleton is not linked by normal ligaments but by soft elastic. Her hips develop a sway that, to be blunt, makes me as wet as hell. It obviously worked for others too, a queue of rugby players formed to take her onto the floor. I watched her with enormous affection. After one particularly boisterous dance she returned to me sweating slightly, or ‘glowing’ as we are supposed to say of ladies.

‘Gawd, College, I haven’t hurled myself around like that for years. Sure you won’t take me on?’ I demurred. Indicating I’d wait for what she calls a ‘swayer’ and she sipped her cold beer to slake her thirst. We enjoyed a quick snog in the ladies toilet, not, as she pointed out, the most romantic of trysting places but, well, we just needed to then she headed off to find another dance partner to exhaust. A little later she joined me where I was chatting to Nellie and her man. ‘I’ve just been propositioned,’ she told us mischievously. ‘He is, apparently, the ‘blind side assassin’ whatever that means.’ Nellie, who now had become something of an expert on the game, explained. ‘Whatever,’ said Donna. ‘He thinks all lesbians are merely concealing their deep desire for men because of their deep attraction to their own fathers and the profound repugnance that causes due to society’s reviling of incest. Apparently, College, it is common currency amongst the players that you and I are dykes and that, given a following wind, they could give us a Damascene revelation that would put an end to all that pent up desire. He kindly offered to whizz me back to his studio flat and undertake the cure.’ At this point, said player arrived looking more than a little the worse for his exertions on the dance floor. I suspected the true cause of his perspiration was more likely to be the effort of marshalling such a deliciously risible argument.

‘College, meet David.’ I shook his hand which he held longer than strictly necessary. Donna noticed this and I watched as she was clearly hatching some sort of plan.

‘I never asked you before, College, but have you ever had a boyfriend?’ I told her that I had had two, the first at the age of 8 and the second at the age of 16, this latter being for the sake of trying to see if I was normal. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘but you are normal. Did you love your dad?’ I indicated that I had loved him very much. I had a feeling I knew where this was heading so played along as her smile grew broader, realising I was following her lead. ‘This tends to support your theory, David.’ She placed a hand casually on his shoulder and I saw in his eyes the nascent light of conquest. ‘Do you think that your love for your father has made you a lesbian?’ I replied that it had never occurred to me but I too could see there might be some merit in the idea. But, I pointed out, Donna had never had that opportunity and so perhaps that demonstrated a flaw in the theory. ‘As ever, College, you slice through the morass of detail and home in on the crux of the issue. Would you object if I were to test the theory?’

Nellie’s eyes widened, sensing an imminent dispute between two lovers. ‘Donna!’ she exclaimed.

I patted Nellie’s hand. ‘Naturally the decision is yours.’ There was a clearly visible bulge in the player’s trousers by this time and Donna had been leaning gently on him as the conversation developed. She suddenly let his side and took me in her arms and kissed me very fully on the lips.

‘Know what, College, I think we’ll have one last dance since they seem to be playing something more to your liking, and then we’ll go home and engage in some of our more disgusting practices.’ She turned her head to David, her arms still around me. ‘Sorry, Dave. Great dancing but crap psychology.’ With that she led me giggling to the dance floor.

Back home we showered together to rid ourselves of the sweat and I dropped to my knees for two reasons. The first is that it makes it easier for Donna to wash my hair. The second is that in that position I can have a lovely conversation with the lips that never answer back. I rose a few moments later and we held each other and kissed.

‘You’ll have to get quicker at that. Our hot water bill will be enormous.’

‘Have you ever had a boyfriend?’

‘Well, I think I had one for about seven minutes tonight. It didn’t last. I was rather taken with a certain pair of nipples that were waiting for me.’ She squeezed one of them quite hard and kissed my mouth. ‘Time to make a trib-ute to Sappho.’ And so to bed.

6 comments:

Dan said...

“Donna Goes Straight”, you had me there for a minute LOL. Ok so male psychology doesn’t always work, but it is built on impeccable logic. Great stuff as always Monica.

Monica said...

Don't worry, Dan - female psychology is equally fallible lol.

Thanks for your kind wordsas always.

Nicky said...

Excellent writing, as usual Monica. I enjoyed the story.

Linda said...

This as sure as hell beats Strictly Come Dancing. As always a wonderful read.

Saffron said...

Well that gives me something to aspire to now, a cross between Dolly Parton and a Christmas Fairy. *laughs. Yes once the old trouser snake is in the ascendancy there’s not a man – bless them who knows deep down that all any confused woman needs is a good seeing to and everything will be fine again and the natural order of things established. The great strength of Donna is that the plot and characters are instantly recognisable. You’ve been here before yourself, but you’re busting to know how somebody else handles this. And as somebody wiser than me has already said ‘Donna’ reveals so much about the writer too. Not surprising that ‘Donna’ is such a rip-roaring success.

jaye said...

Oh you already know I loved it! It goes without saying anymore.