Carlie, Part 12

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Carlie has sissy predispositions, but overcomes difficulties with love, courage and increasing self-awareness. In this chapter, he meets Cindi's parents.

Carlie

XII. Meeting the Parents

As Cindi drove down the interstate to her parents' home, I asked her what she told her parents about me.

“I told them that I was bringing my friend Carlie to stay the weekend with me and we’d be there about 7:30.”

“Did you tell them I was a boy?”

“I told them you had a double major in nursing and early childhood education and wanted to be a high-priced nanny.”

“I never said I wanted to be high-priced.”

“I know, but they respect people that charge a lot.”

“But you didn’t tell them I was a boy?”

“No, why should I?”

“Because it would be honest.”

“There are lots of honest things about you I didn’t tell them — like your dad blowing himself up or Sandy being your lawyer. There is no reason for them to know any of them. They’re lucky they know you exist and I care about you.”

“Well, I wanted to get to meet them and see how they feel about us sleeping together.”

“You will and you will. Leave it to me and they’ll send us to bed together knowing we’re lovers. Look, if they ask if you’re a boy, you can tell the truth, but if they don’t ask, let’s just say that means they don’t care. You’ll see. They don’t care what I do or who I’m with because they don’t care about me. I’m just a margin note on their resume: Child 1, age 18, sex f. It would be bad form not to care about me, so they pretend they do.”

“That’s sad.”

“Yeah, ain’t it?” There was a hard coldness in her voice that I’d never heard before. We were both quiet until her mood improved.

“Guess what?” she asked.

“What?”

“I’m wearing big girl panties and a matching bra — went to Victoria’s Secret to get them special for you. I’m going to be a big girl for you tonight.”

“Let me see.”

“I can’t silly, we’d have an accident — or maybe you would as we drove along safely. Either way, you'll just have to wait for the unveiling.”

“Can you get me tickets?”

“You got 'em all, lover.”

“Good, because I don’t like sharing.”

“I know. I don’t either anymore.”

After that the conversation went back to things that wouldn't arouse our passions before we got there.

About 7:15 Cindi exited the interstate. Soon we were in a neighborhood of large houses set well back on huge lots. They weren't estates, but they were close. When we came to a mail box with “McCartney” on it, Cindi turned in and parked under a side portico.

Cindi let herself in. I followed carrying her overnight bag, and the gym bag I’d used when I came to Mommy’s house. Her parents, Eileen and Sean, were sitting in the living room watching Fox news. Cindi introduced me. Sean gave me a warm embrace — almost a bit too warm for my taste. Eileen stood, eyed my gym bag for an eternal second, said “Any friend of Cynthia’s is a friend of ours,” and gave me some air kisses. I wasn’t sure what to do with air kisses, so I found myself making a bobbing curtsy which she didn’t know how to respond to. “1-1,” I thought.

“Well, we thought we’d put you two together in Cynthia’s room. Cynthia, I do know how you so like to share the bed with your girlfriends.” The latter was said with a unmistakable mix of condescension and innuendo.

That is just what I expected, mother,” parried Cindi. She was right, her parents didn’t care what she did — as long, I suppose, as it didn’t embarrass them. Glancing at her father, I saw a vague sadness cross his face before he recomposed himself.

Eileen continued, “We have dinner reservations at the club for 8:30. So, you two just have time for a wash and a change.”

I followed Cindi to her room, shocked by the atmosphere. “You’re right, they don’t give a fuck about you, do they?”

“I told you — and here we are — sent off to share a bed with her knowing we’re lovers.”

“Well, technically, we’re not. Not yet.”

“All in time, lover. … did you bring a dinner dress?”

“I don’t have one. We poor folk don’t go to the ‘club’ much. I brought a sports coat and slacks.”

“Well, this should be rich.” She slipped out of her flirty A-line to reveal deep violet hip hugger panties and matching demi bra before she disappeared into her in suite bath. I stood there for a few seconds until I remembered I was supposed to change for dinner.

Due to mommy’s expert packing, neither my pants nor my jacket were wrinkled. My dress shirt was still folded from the cleaners. I took off my bra and put it on, but it’s starched front irritated my nipples. A raspberry cami solved the problem, but could be seen though my shirt. I'd finished dressing and was struggling with my tie when Cindi came out of her powder room, topless. Of course, my concentration was completely broken. She put my hands on her breasts, then gave me a passionate kiss. When we broke for air, she stepped back leaving my hands in place and tied my tie. I'd wear a tie every day if this was how they'd be tied.

“Sit here lover,” she said as she pushed me down on her vanity seat. She turned her back and made a show of lowering her panties to put on a garter belt. Sitting on her bed, she slowly pulled up and fastened her nylons. A strapless bra and a very adult LBD followed. Finally, she slipped into black metallic Jimmy Choo glitter pumps. Where was my little girl? Then I realized the whole outfit was designed to hide her real self from her parents. Still, I was embarrassed at being way under-dressed and told her so.

“Don’t worry.” She went to her dresser and replaced my birthstone studs with a pair of 2-3 carat flower button diamond earrings. “My parents gave them to me for my 8th grade graduation, but they wouldn’t let me take them to boarding school. So, they've been sitting here gathering dust ever since. I doubt they even remember buying them. Probably, Lydia, their office manager, bought them. Anyway, they really power up your dyke look.”

I wasn't sure I wanted a dyke look, but that, and not a sissy boy, is what I saw looking in the mirror.

We went down to the living room where her parents were still watching Fox news. Eileen was not pleased. “Carla, do you have to dress like a complete dyke? What will our friends think?”

“Now, Eileen, let the girl be herself! They will think we are in the same situation as the Cheneys — not bad company, I’d say. … Carlie, you look fine. Just be yourself, honey.”

I was starting to like Sean, despite my feeling that faithfulness was not his forte. I thought maybe that was forgivable given who he was stuck with.

The club was one of those closed gate places which you can’t even see from the road. We were shown to our table by a maitre d’ who obviously knew the Doctors McCartney well. I got some stares and murmurs, but nothing overt. The McCartneys were served their cocktails almost before they were in their seats, and there was no hesitation in asking Cindi and me what we wanted to drink. Cindi said we’d both like Brandy Alexanders, and they appeared toute de suite.

We had the best steaks I’d ever tasted. I’d thought, from the chewy meat my dad bought, that I didn't even like steak. Boy, was I wrong. We had a flaming dessert, Bananas Foster, and finished with aperitifs.

“Well, I'm sure the young folks are anxious to get to bed. Let’s go home,” said Sean.

“I’m sure they are,” Eileen said, giving us a disgusted glance that changed into a pleasant smile as George, our waiter, brought the bill to be signed.

When we got back Eileen air kissed us all and went up to her room. Sean gave me a nice hug, said he could see what Cindi saw in me and he hoped to see more of me. I almost felt like coming out to him, but I could see Cindi looking nervous, so I didn’t.

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Comments

No wonder,

Hypatia Littlewings's picture

Cindi wanted to be babied and cared for, looks like she never got any love from her parents.

Yes

Dear Patia,

Carlie knew it in his head, but seeing it in reality is different.

Love, Andra