Roy And The Road To Renee - Chapter 8

Roy And The Road To Renee - Chapter 8
By Pentatonic

Caution - this chapter contains explicit sexual material.

Saturday, February 14, 2015:

Sue, Joe, Becky and I attended the Valentine’s day dance. I wore my suit and Joe had on a sport coat. Both of us wore white shirts and dark ties. The girls had really gone all out. Sue had a red dress with the hem a few inches above her knees. Becky had borrowed my dance dress.

“I wish you were wearing that dress, it looked so good on you at the dance class,” Joe commented. I pretended to not hear him. He leaned closer to me and whispered, “Are you wearing panties under your clothes, sweetheart?”

I scowled at him, and said, “ Hardly.”

“Well I am, lover,” he confessed.

“What does Sue think about that?” I asked.

“She doesn’t know,” he answered, and then added, “Yet.”

“What’s it about you and female underwear?”

“I like the way it feels on me, and how it feels when I rub your behind,” he said with a leer. As if to prove his point, I felt his hand on my rear.

“Stop that!” I hissed. He withdrew his hand. Just at that time Sue and Becky rejoined us, after a potty break. I would have loved to hear what they said while they were in the washroom.

Becky and I traded off dances with Sue and Joe. While Joe and Sue were dancing a slow dance, I kept my eyes on Joe’s hands. I noted that he did not rub her behind. Did he reserve that for me? I wondered.

I had driven and Becky and I were in the front, separated by the counsole. Sue and Joe were in the back, enjoying each other’s company. Halfway on the way home, I heard Sue say, “Ooooh, panties.” I didn’t want to know how she made that discovery.

Saturday, March 14, 2015:

It was Joe’s seventeenth birthday. I had turned seventeen nine days before on the fifth. Joe’s parents threw an informal St. Patrick’s Day and birthday party for Joe. When I arrived, Joe said, “I had hoped that Renee would have attended.”

“You just can’t behave when Renee is arround,” I said.

“And what’s wrong with that?” he responded, “we’re both seventeen now.”

The import of what he said escaped me until I remembered ‘age of consent.’ Now I had an idea of the thoughts on his mind. I also recalled Dr. Devlin’s comment on my lack of sexual experience.

It was a nice party. There was pizza and the mandatory birthday cake. Joe had invited the usual crowd. Some of the furniture had been moved to allow dancing.

During the evening, Joe asked me to help him to bring in some more soft drinks. This was hardly a two person job, but Joe had ulterior motives. The soft drinks were outside, since it was cold enough out there to avoid using a refrigerator. Out in the dark, Joe put his hands on my shoulders, pulled me to him and kissed me. He then moved his hand down to my crotch, and with his other hand he grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch. He was aroused.

“Stop that!” I commanded.

“But it feels good, doesn’t it, honey?” It did, but I wasn’t about to admit it. He then moved his hands to my shoulders, again, and kissed me again. We then grabbed some soft drinks and rejoined the party.

I wouldn’t admit it, but Joe’s kisses were as enjoyable as Bercky’s. I wondered about my sexual orientation.

Sunday, March 15, 2015:

This being the Sunday before St. Patrick’s Day, there was a parade in the area, followed by various parties in the neighborhood. My parents had been invited to one such party. They weren’t expected to be home until after 9:00.

Becky and my sister Amy had been hired as babysitters for couples enjoying the festivities. Joe and I were not invited, and with a test scheduled for the next day, we needed to study. My mind wandered back to Joe’s birthday party and Dr. Devlin’s comment about my sexual inexperience.

In addition to the test, we were assigned to read a play for English class. Joe arrived at my house about 1:00. I could see the disappointment on Joe’s face when I met him at the door. “No Renee?” he questioned.

“You have trouble behaving yourself when I’m Renee,” I answered, “Anyway, we’re here to work on homework.” I did have a secret plan, however.

Joe then asked, “Hey, did you read that stupid play?” he said referring to the assignment for English class.

“Yes. Why?”

“I’m having some problems with it,” he answered.

“Let me guess,” I said, “you haven’t started reading it, have you?”

“Well, sort of,” he answered.

One thing I’ve noted is that plays are meant to be heard, not silently read. The play we were working on had a run time of about two and a half hours. When Joe arrived, I suggested that we read the play out loud, each of us taking different parts. I figured that we could be finished by about 4:00 and then start on our other studying.

We worked on the play for the first act when I suggested a break for some pop and snacks. When I returned from the kitchen, I asked, “Are you gay?”

Joe gave me a strange look, and blurted out, “What made you ask that?”

“Well, on more than one occasion, you kissed me, and you’ve tried to feel me up,” I responded.

“That wasn’t with you, that was with Renee,”

“ and with me as Roy,” I interjected. “Remember, I am Roy. No matter what I am wearing.” With that I went to the powder room and gave myself a spritz of my favorite perfume.

“I want you to close your eyes and keep them closed until I say you can open them,” I called out.

His eyes were closed when I walked back into the room. I walked over to him and said, “Stand up.” When he was standing I stood in front of him and put my hands on his shoulders. He sniffed the air and I knew he could smell my perfume. I leaned in to him and pulled him into contact with me and I kissed him. He hesitated for a moment and then kissed me back.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.” I said. He opened his eyes and looked into mine. “Now, kiss me again,” I commanded. He did, and our tongues darted in and out of each other’s mouth.

I was still holding him tightly when I said, “Not bad.”

“No, I guess it wasn’t,” he said, “but you tricked me with your perfume.”

“But I didn’t trick you when we kissed with our eyes open,” I countered. With that I kissed him again, and I felt his hands on my butt, pulling me close to him. I could feel that he was getting aroused. “Part of your body likes it,” I said, as I rubbed myself against him. I began to also get aroused. “You too,” he said, and he kissed me again. By now both of us were aroused.

I moved my hands down to his belt and loosened it. He reached down, unbuttoned his jeans, and unzipped his fly. His pants fell to the floor. He then pulled his underpants down.

Now was the moment of truth. Although I had planned it in advance, I wondered whether I could actually do it. I told myself that there is only one way to find out. I put my hand around his penis and began rubbing. He started to moan with pleasure.

“Sit down,” I commanded.

When he sat, I went down on my knees in front of him. And yes, I swallowed all of it. It was kind of pleasant.

I stood up and took off my jeans, revealing that I was wearing brief, lacy, black panties. “A little bit of Renee,” I commented. Joe smiled.

Joe slid my panties down and I stepped out of my jeans and panties. I took his hand and put it on my hard penis. “Turnabout time,” I announced, and he took me in his mouth. He also swallowed. We fondled and kissed some more and finally put all of our clothes back on. “I really liked that,” I said.

“Me too,” he answered.

“Well,” I said, “it appears that you might be gay.”

“If I am, then you are too,” he countered.

“It’ll be our little secret,” I said, and I kissed him again.

“Yeah, I don’t think Sue or Becky would like to find out about what we just did,” he said.

“Or that we both liked it,” I added.

Saturday, April 4, 2015:

Becky’s 17th birthday was on Thursday, the 2nd, and our friends were meeting at her house to celebrate on the next Saturday. Given my situation at home, where at least one parent had to approve, I went as Roy. Well, in truth, mostly Roy, with the exception of a brief, black, pair of panties. When I passed by Joe, I whispered, “Black panties.” In response he gave me a pat on my behind. Thankfully, no one saw it.

It being Becky’s party, I paid special attention to her, which included a long birthday kiss, much to the amusement to all present.

During the party, Sue pulled me aside. “You’re Joe’s best friend. There’s something I want to ask you,” she said.

“And what might that be?” I asked.

“Does Joe have another girlfriend?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Well, in the last few weeks, he seems cooler, less amorous,” she answered.

“I don’t know of any girlfriend, new or otherwise,” I responded, full well aware of Joe’s new love interest, me. I certainly didn’t want to disclose this to Sue.

Later on I motioned to Joe to go outside for a minute. “Sue’s worried,” I told him, “She’s afraid that you have a new girlfriend. She said you’re less amorous.”

“And you know why, sweetheart,” he said, “You’re better than she is.”

“Well, pretend that she’s the best. Show her some love. I don’t want anyone to suspect the truth.”

“Okay, lover,” he responded, “but you’ll owe me.”

“Owe you what?” I challenged.

“You know what.” he said.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015:

Becky and I were sitting at her kitchen table when her mother walked in. “I’m going out to check out the post Easter sales, so I’ll see you in about two hours,” and with that she picked up her purse and walked out the door.

A few minutes after her mother had left, she looked at me with a wicked grin and grabbed my hand. “When the cat’s away, the mice will play,” she said and we went up to her bedroom. “We have at least an hour and a half,” she declared.

We kissed. A long passionate kiss. She held her body close to mine and I could feel myself getting aroused. It appeared that she could feel it also. She stepped away, and pulled her top over her head, exposing her bra. She took one of my hands and put it on her bra covered breast. I began to fondle it, and it was not too much longer that her bra was on the floor. I bent over and began to kiss her naked breasts. She responded by loosening my belt and pulling down my zipper. She then removed my jeans and shorts. She pushed me until I was sitting on her bed and then she knelt on the floor in front of me. When she was done, she swallowed.

She then removed her jeans and panties, and we traded places. I had never done this before, but with hints from Becky, I figured out what to do.

We stopped short of intercourse, because I was afraid that Becky might get pregnant. What we did was wonderful. I can’t be gay, I thought, if I enjoyed it so much.

Friday, May 8, 2015:

I went to this counseling session alone, because I didn’t want my parents to hear what I was going to tell Dr. Devlin. I also dressed.

“Well, what do you want to talk about?” Dr. Devlin asked.


“Sex?” she questioned, “What about sex?”

“Well, some time ago you noted my sexual inexperience,” I said, and Dr. Devlin nodded her head.

“Well, since then I’ve remedied that situation.”



“Oh?” she questioned, “With whom?”

“Becky and Joe.”


“Yes, but not at the same time.”

“Obviously. And which did you like best?” she asked.

“I liked all of it equally,” I answered.

“When you did this with Joe, did you feel that you were a girl?”

“Sort of, but I was dressed like Roy, except for panties.”

“So you took Joe in your mouth? “ she asked.

“Yes, and then he reciprocated.”

“So you might be gay?” she asked.

“Maybe,” I answered, “But I liked doing it with Becky, and when we did it, I felt all boy.”

“Did you go any further?”

“No,” I answered, “I didn’t to get Becky pregnant.”

“How about Joe?”

“I’m not ready for that,” I answered.

The rest of the session followed along those lines. By the end there were no conclusions.

Saturday, June 6, 2015:

Becky’s parents had enrolled her in an advanced placement program at a university about two hours away. The program was open to incoming highschool seniors, and offered a variety of courses. I would have loved to go, but it was rather expensive, and my father had arranged for me to work at a local muffler and brake shop in town. “It might not pay much,” he said, “but at least it’ll keep you out of that darn dress shop.”

I saw Becky off on that Saturday, Becky looking all the part of a college coed and me looking like a mechanic.

Sunday, June 21, 2015:

It was my day off from the muffler and brake shop, and I was lounging around at home. I was really missing Becky. It was hot, and I was wearing a pair of tan shorts which I had purchased at the tall girl’s shop. They looked unisex so I thought I could ge away with it. I wore a t-shirt which came down to mid-butt. That was not all, however. In addition to missing Becky, I was missing Renee, so I wore a pair of lacy black panties.

It was about noon that Joe called. “Hi, Honey Bunch, how’s my lover, Sweetheart?” he said.

“Stop that!” I demanded, “so what’s on your so-called mind?” I added.

“Aside from you-know-what, I have a problem with my car.” he said.

“What kind of problem?’

“I get a funny noise when I step on the brakes.”

“ Is that funny ‘Ha, Ha,’ or funny ‘Ugh?’” I responded.

Joe just gave me a paind look in response to my attepted humor.

“When’s the last time you checked the brake pads?” I asked.

“That’s not my job,” he said, “You’re the expert on brakes, so it’s your job. My job os to fill your sweet mouth with my love juices.”

I chose to ignore his last comment, and said, “It’s your car, so checking the meat left on the brake pads is your job.”

“Speaking of meat, my meat misses your mouth,” he said with a chuckle.

“Knock it off,” I said, “or I’ll make you take your car to the shop where I work and pay their prices to fix the problem. I’ll come over, but in the mean time, jack up the front end of your car and take off the wheels.”

“Okay, love lips,” he said. He must be really horny, I thought. If the truth be told, I was kind of horny too.

“What’s got into you? Sue cut you off?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Kind of,” he said,

When I arrived at his house, I saw that he had jacked up the front end and removed the tires. The problem was obvious, The driver’s side rotor was scored. He needed a brake job and new rotors on the front end.

“I hope you’ve got some money to buy two rotors and and two sets of pads,” I told him.

“Well, there goes taking Sue to a movie and maybe getting lucky,” he complained.

“Not my problem,” I said, smugly. “Maybe you can hit your parents up for some money?”

“They’re gone for the day,” he said.

I went back to my car and retrieved my coveralls and a box of nitrile examination gloves. Joe gave a questioning look at the box of gloves. “What are those for?” asked.

“We’ve got to pack the wheel bearings with grease before we put on the new rotors,” I answered. “Without the gloves my hands will smell like axle grease for a week. Hardly my favorite perfume.”

“I thought it might be for something more personal,” he said with a crooked smile.

His comment brought another thought to my mind, maybe they could be.

Friday, August 14, 2015:

Becky was finally returning home. After Becky left, my summer was pretty miserable. Although we called each other quite often, my work schedule and her class schedule made it impossible for me to actually visit her in person. As it turned out that was a good thing for me.

After she had been gone for a month and a half, and I noticed a change when I called her. She was not the same old Becky. Something was bothering her, but she wouldn’t confide what it was.

I managed to get the day off for her return, and I was at her house when she and her parents arrived. It was obvious that something was wrong. Her parents also appeared to be very unhappy.

It took some time for me to get her to tell me what was wrong.

“I’m pregnant.” she finally admitted, “I met this guy, Chad, at the school and . . .”

“We only did it once, but that seems to have been enough.”

I was crushed. Not only had she gone out with another guy, but she had sex with him.

All the time, Becky’s parents were giving me accusing looks. I mentioned it to Becky, because it appeared that they believed that I was the father. I knew that I wasn’t.

“I told them it wasn’t you, but right now every teenaged boy is to blame,” she said.

“Did you tell this Chad character?” I asked her.

“Yes, but he said that it was my problem, not his, and he refused to talk with me after I told him.”

“So no marriage, I guess,” I observed.

“No marriage,” she confirmed, “but he did suggest that I have an abortion.

“That’s terrible,” I said.

Thursday, August 20, 2015:

Becky and her parents received a letter from Chad’s parents’ attorney, saying that Chad contested paternity, and would not pay any expenses. He also said that Chad would not admit paternity until it was conclusively proven. He suggested that Becky had been promiscuous with other students that summer, Finally, he demanded that neither Becky not her parents contact Chad or his parents.

This letter seemed to convince Becky’s parents that I was not the father. Becky called me and asked that I come over.

Becky’s mother greeted me at the door. “I’m sorry that we suspected that you are the father, although if Becky had to get pregnant, we would have vastly favored you to be the father. We both know that you and Becky love each other, and you will make a wonderful father one day.”

“I’ll be here for Becky and the baby,” I said.

“You know, a lot of people will believe that you are the father,” Becky’s father observed, “if you are in the picture when the baby is born, are you ready for that? Think about it.”

I thought about it. Maybe ‘Aunt Renee’ would come into the picture.

Monday, September 7, 2015:

By Labor day, it seemed that the entire school knew that Becky was pregnant, and it seemed that most of them believed that I was the father, no matter what Becky or I said.

“Couldn’t keep it in your pants, huh?” one girl commented.

“You gonna do the honorable thing and marry her?” another asked.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015:

About a week later, Becky’s mother called me. “I need a favor, but I hate having to ask you,” she started to say, Becky has an appointment with her Gynecologist today after school, and neither her father nor I can take her there. I wouldn’t ask you, but it is an emergency.”

“Mrs. Jones,” I told her, “I’ll do anything for Becky.” After I said this I wondered if that included marrying Becky and being the father to her baby?

So, on the day I met Becky at my car. “I’m really sorry that my mother asked you to do this. You know, this will convince everyone that you are the father.”

“They can believe what they want,” I said, “It’s you, and not my reputation that concerns me.”

The reception at the gynecologist’s office was decidedly cool. The receptionist and even the Doctor were convinced that I was the father. Only after they worked back the chronology of Becky’s pregnancy that they realized that I was miles away when Becky got pregnant.

When Becky was finished with her appointment, I suggested that she make the next appointment an hour later than usual. “That way the baby’s ‘Auntie Renee’ can drive you to the appointment,” I suggested.

This brought a smile to Becky’s face. “Auntie Renee?” she said, “I like the idea.”

Not only did Becky like the idea, but so did her mother.

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