Life of Paul: Rendezvous: Rena

All characters appearing or mentioned in this story are 18 years old or older. This story is a work of fiction and any reference or description to actual persons is unintentional.

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If you are enjoying these stories, leave a comment about what you liked or didn't, or things you want to ready more of. I'll take advice into consideration when I'm working out the next parts of the LoP stories.

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January 18th, 1999

By the time my birthday came again, I was expecting a bit more of a to-do about it all. With friends and more than a few lady friends around, I'd thought that some one might have stopped by. However, it was a Monday, the least fun day to have a birthday, so not a lot of folks stopped by. Not a lot being none.

Still, some people called and wished me a happy day. My uncle, some of my skating friends, several girls. However no one wanted to hang out or do anything cause they were busy or had to work the next day.

Not a great start to my 19th year. Still, I tried to stay positive as I went about my day. Starting with my contractor calling me and telling me that my house will be another 6 weeks.

"So, what the hell is happening there," I said. "This is the 6th delay."

"Winter is whats happening," the gruff voice on the other end said. "It's raining here way more than normal right now so work is going slowly."

"Alright," I conceded, "Just do your best then. Thanks."

I also decided to get some tacos for lunch because a taco always managed to make me happy. And it would have, if the taco joint I usually go to wasn't closed.

"What the shit?!" I yelled at the empty parking lot. A worked, Javier, someone I knew in school, came out the back door carrying boxes of taco fixings.

"Hey," I called to him. He tossed the coveted taco ingredients unceremoniously into the dumpster. "What happened?"

"Oh, hey Paul. A new guy closed last night. We told him to hit the lights when he was done but he accidentally turned off the main breaker. Our fridges turned into hot boxes since they're next to the fryers and all our food spoiled."

"Fucking hell," I said. I wasn't the only disappointed would be customer since others were pulling into the parking lot, seeing the sign, and the leaving. I turned and left well.

OK. No worries. I'll just grab my board, hit the waves, and get something from a taco stand by the beach. I drove back to my apartment, grabbed my stuff and loaded the car.

And then my car wouldn't start. Like, at all. No turning over attempts. Only the tick-tick-tick of bad electrical.

Fuck. Me.

I saw Leila pass by and I called her over.

"Hey," she said brightly. Her hair was tied back and she was in her scrubs so she must have been off to work. "Whats wrong," she asked after seeing my face.

"Cars dead," I said.

"I'm sorry. Did you need a ride somewhere?"

"No, I was just going to the beach." I put on my best smile and asked, "You wanna ditch work and go surfing? You drive and I'll buy lunch."

She smiled, leaned in and kissed me. "I would normally," she said, "but I have a proficiency test I need to complete for a class. But next time."

She strolled off to her car before I could try to guilt her about it being my birthday. I watched her leave (a wholly fascinating view) just in case she changed her mind. She didn't.

Taking my stuff back up to my apartment I started going through the list of people I knew who could possibly help me fix my car. I could fix it myself, possibly, but I needed to get to the store for parts. A number of people weren't available, but it was Lauren who had the most promising lead.

"I'd help you if I could, you know to return the favor and all, but I'm at work right now," she explained. "But, I know someone who can help though. She's a real gear head and she helped me recently with my car."

"I'll take it. It's not been a great day for me so far."

"Her name's Rena. I think she'll help. I'll give her a call and have her call you."

Rena...Rena...I knew that name from somewhere but couldn't quite remember it. I knew she went to our school but couldn't come up with a face. Oh well. I'll see her soon I guess.

I thanked Lauren and hung up. I looked around my place for something to eat since my stomach reminded me that it was lunch time. Frozen waffles were the only thing I could hunter-gather in my sparsely stocked fridge, so that was what I had.

About a half hour later Rena called. I explained the issue and she had some ideas. I told her I'd pay for her time and parts, which she readily agreed to. We made an appointment for a couple hours away and hung up. Her voice didn't do anything to assist in placing a face with her, except to tell me that yes, I was indeed familiar with her.

After my waffles I went and skated for a bit until it was time to meet up with Rena. On my way home, rolling through the parking lot, I saw someone bent over under the hood of my car. Swearing that I locked my car door, I wondered if someone was trying to snag my ride.

Seeing a curvy, bent over lower half of a woman told me this was unlikely. "Hey," I said to the woman currently fiddling with my engine. She extracted her self and stood up. Seeing her face sent a zap through my brain to activate my memory.

That was where I knew her from! She lived down the street from me before I left my parents house. We rode the bus from 5th through some of 10th grade (along with 20 others from my neighborhood) until I started driving. She was over half a year older than I was but we were in the same grade.

Taking her in quickly I could see that she had moved on from 'cute' to 'hot damn'. She was average height, average size, with nice legs and small yet firm looking B-cup breasts. Her oval face and blue eyes seemed to only compliment her very wide and full lips. The backwards hat hid what I knew to be a blonde head of hair, and her tight jeans and green tank-top showed off her fit form and very nice arms. Not to mention the fact she didn't feel the need to wear a bra, which was clearly evident and something I tried (and failed probably) to not leer at.

"Hey," she said, smiling back at me. "Lauren told me what car you drove so I just started in on the problem."

"Don't you need the keys? Cause that would be, like, breaking and entering I think."

"No really needed," she said. "I jimmied the door and hot wired it. Or tried to anyways. It looks like your starter solenoid crapped out. Which was due to low power from the battery. Which was due to your battery cables going to shit." She explained this in a very 'this is your own fault' manner. I kinda took offense to it.

"OK," I said genially, "thanks for the assessment. Now what will it take to get it working again?"

"About a hundred in parts and a couple hours. More if you help me with the work," she said.

"Why would it be more if I helped? I'm not a bad mechanic myself."

She tucked in a strand of hair that escaped her hat with a greasy finger. "Because when people help they get in my way, which is what adds time."

"It's my time I'm paying for, so I'd like to see what you're doing and maybe learn something I didn't know before."

Rena looked at me steadily for a moment. Cocking her head to the side, she smiled and said "Fair enough. My rates are $30 per hour so it's your dime to spend."

She closed the hood of the Green Goblin and collected her small toolset. "C'mon. I'll drive us to the auto parts store and we can get this beast working."

And so we went to the auto parts store. Rena rattled off parts and the clerk grunted ever time because he had to move his ass up a ladder because my parts were not for a current model car. In the end, we got what we needed and headed back to my complex.

Putting everything in though was fairly straightforward from the looks of it. Rena took out the battery cables and solenoid, cleaned out some connections, and put everything back to right in pretty short order.

I held the light. Cause that was what she told me I could do. Which was fair I suppose since she was the professional here.

After we were done, the Green Goblin roared to life easily. We went for a test drive around town to charge the battery and got a smoothie from a shop. We got back and I paid Rena for her time, plus some extra.

"It only took me two hours. This isn't necessary," she said. She didn't hold out the difference, instead pocketing the entire amount. She did not look ashamed to do so.

"It was worth it for the work and for the short notice," I said. "Besides, this is about the best thing to happen for my birthday yet, so it's worth it."

"It's your birthday? Happy birthday," she said, giving me a hug. She was warm against me as she hugged me, smelling of sweat and just a hint of grease. It was strangely intoxicating.

"Got any plans," she asked, beginning to clean up and put her tools away.

"Not really. Everyone's busy or will be busy or has to work or whatever." I tried not to sound disappointed, but truth be told, I was a bit.

"Well," said Rena, standing before me again. "If you are still feeling in the generous spirit, how about you take me to dinner tonight? At least that way you won't be completely alone on your...19th birthday?"

"Yes, 19. And yes, dinner with you sounds... intriguing."

"Oh, big word. Hopefully you can match that with some big spending. The Italian place on the hill. I'll make the reservation. You drive. Deal?"

I looked at Rena in a bit of a new light. Here she was, very attractive despite the sweat and grease (or perhaps because of it), very sure of herself and more than a little cocky about things. I was now very curious to see where this night would lead.

"Deal," I said.

"Good. Pick me up at 7." She gave me her address. Turning to leave, she called back to me, "And wear something nice. I don't want you to embarrass me."

#

Driving up to Renas house, I could see that she inherited her love of cars honestly. There were 2 classic cars parked in her driveway, likely her parents or siblings. Renas customized Civic was parked on the street so at least I knew she was home.

Approaching the door, I was hoping this wouldn't be a 'meet the parents' type of situation because, honestly, I didn't know how to interact with parents. Any parents. Thankfully, the door opened as I approached.

"Wow, you clean up nice," she said as I stepped into the porch light. I was wearing my Italian suit and crisp shirt with cufflinks and a tie that Kelly had helped me pick out on a shopping trip. I thought I looked rather dashing, but I'd take nice. Especially compared to what Rena was wearing.

She had obviously washed off all the grease, and had her blonde hair pulled back tightly, putting it in a bun on the back. Her make up was simple and striking, with deep red lips and shadowy eyes. Her dress was blue, in a halter style that crossed before going around the neck, showed a lot of her shoulder and collar bone, and went down to just below her knees. A slit up the side showed an impressive amount of toned thigh, as well as some sort of silver jewelry around her upper leg, which was fascinating because it was connected to a chain that went higher up. She finished it with silver shoes that showed neatly painted toes, and a slightly larger than expected clutch purse that was silver.

Of course I was staring, taking it all in. When I looked back up at her, I responded, "Thanks. You aren't so bad yourself."

"Oh please," she said, wrapping a shawl over her shoulders and closing the door, "you know I look fabulous."

I opened the car door for her which she accepted. Our trip to the restaurant was quiet, and thankfully quick. The place we were going was fancy enough to have a valet, so we strolled up to the entrance like fancy folk. We certainly looked the part despite us being covered in grease only a few hours ago.

"Ah, Ms. Rena, so nice to see you," the host greeted us. "Please, right this way, your table is ready."

We followed the host through the restaurant. It was surprisingly crowded for a Monday, and we got more than a few glances our way. Most of them were for Rena and her impressive amount of toned back she was flaunting, but a few women looked my way as well. It made me feel better about the insane amount of money I spent on the suit.

Once seated, I saw that we had a private booth with a nice evening view of the city. The tall backs showed only the tops of some heads and the tablecloths went nearly to the floor. I learned that fancy restaurants had such things, so I was glad Rena picked a good spot.

Sliding into the booth beside Rena, I caught a whiff of her perfume, which was quite fetching. It wasn't the same sweat and grease mixture from earlier, but still nice. The host gave us menus and told us our server would be there soon, but I was oblivious to that since I was openly staring at Rena.

"Stop staring," she said without looking at me, "I know I look good, but you'll stab yourself in the face when we eat. And I have plans for that face later." She was looking over the menu as she said this, no smile or glance at my direction. Just a statement of what was to come.

OK. Now I definitely needed to know where this night would lead.

Our waiter just happened to be a friend of mine who I skated with often. He did the usual rant about specials and we ordered our food. While collecting the menus, I ordered a nice bottle of white wine and made sure he saw the $20 bill I slipped behind my menu. He smiled crookedly and said it'll be right out.

Rena, curious, stared at me for ordering wine, and getting it.

"Don't stare," I said, pointedly folding my napkin and not looking at her, "you might stab your face. And I have plans for that face later." I might have smiled slightly. It was one of my better comebacks.

Our wine and appetizers came and we ate sparingly. Like every typical Italian place I've ever been to, they gave you a grip of spaghetti with every meal and I wanted to at least try to eat some of it. We chatted about cars and what plans are for after school. How Rena is working on being a certified mechanic and that she thought being a to-your-door car mechanic had merits.

"I mean, I proved the point today with your car," she explained as she twirled some pasta on her fork. "No need for a shop in a lot of cases, fast service, and I could fix it in a parking lot."

"It sounds like a great plan," I said, finishing off my chicken parmesan. "I hope it works out for you."

"Me too," she said, sipping on her wine. We were both still working on the first glass as we didn't want to get in trouble, or arrested, so we took our time.

After our meal, Rena slid a little closer to me, her bare shoulder rubbing up against my suit jacket. Her perfume snuck into my nose again, tantalizing my senses and inviting me to get close. I slid my arm behind her, and she slid just a tad closer so her shoulder touched my torso.

"This was nice," she said quietly. "I'm glad you said yes when I told you to bring me here."

"You know," I said in the same soft voice as she, "you're a little bossy, and awfully sure of your self. Anyone ever tell you that?"

"Is that a problem," she said, smiling.

I leaned close to her ear, and whispered, "I find your confidence even more sexy than you look in that dress. And that is saying something."

I leaned away and took a sip of my wine. She did the same.

"You know," Rena started, "Lauren told me a few other interesting things about you. Other than the car you drove."

"Oh? Such as?"

She leaned in close to my face. "Such as that you really know how to show a girl a good time. And not in the most basic sense, like in the exciting, naughty type of time."

I tried to will my member to stay where it was, but it was a losing battle. "Why, whatever do you mean?" I said, mock shock in my tone.

She put her hand on my thigh and slowly slid her hand up. "I mean, and I'll use simple terms your hormone raging brain can understand, I like being naughty too. And I think I'd like to see how naughty you can be. You up for it?" Her hand glided over my increasingly difficult to hide member, grasping it lightly up and down the entire length.

"I think I'd like to try. What did you have in mind?" I asked her.

Our waiter came by and took our plates away. He set down a coffee pot and cups and the bill, saying we can pay up front.

Once he left, I felt Renas breath on my ear. "I want you to pleasure me with your fingers. Right here. Right now," she said in a sultry, breathy voice.

If I was actually taking a drink of coffee, I'd have shot it through my nose. As such, I just cleared my throat lightly, hiding my shock at her very forward request.

Playing it cool, I poured us each a coffee and took a sip before answering.

"Out of curiosity," I said quietly, staring into her eyes, "where does that thigh chain end?"

"Why don't you find out," she said.

I moved my left hand onto her exposed knee, slowly tracing my fingers up her leg. It came across the chain wrapped around her thigh and I proceed to slowly trace the link up and up until I stopped at her hip. I was turned on to see she wasn't wearing any panties. I also felt some other dangling bits of metal and must have given a curious expression.

"Its a type of belly dancing chain," Rena said.

I felt along the top of her leg and could feel that she opened her legs, inviting me to explore further. The slit in her dress made for easy access.

Drifting over her lower tummy, I could feel that the chain around her waist was of a fine quality with very small links. Coming to the middle of her tummy, I found another chain that led down. Tracing my fingers along the path, I came to her very warm, bare, moist sex.

"Mmmmm," I heard her purr into my chest. "You can follow a trail, I'll grant you that."

I pushed down further as she scooted her hips forward to allow me further access. Exploring her soft folds elicited some more quiet, happy sounds from Rena.

I focused on putting pressure on her clit, stroking it rather than rubbing. This got a deep inhale from Renas lips and a soft yet firm hand was placed on top of mine. Exploring further, I dipped my fingers in her hot, wet sex only a little bit. I played with her like this for a few moments before plunging my fingers farther in.

Keeping pressure on her clit with the palm, I explored Renas pussy, searching around for that all important area.

Rena gave a sharp inhale suddenly. "Oh, right there," she said quietly. Her breathing picked up some intensity as well, due, I'd like to think, to my attention to her pleasure.

Pressing down on her g-spot and clit simultaneously with one hand was quite the workout for my hand. I could feel it starting to get tired, but I pressed (and rubbed) on. I was pleased to hear after a couple of minutes that my efforts were being appreciated.

"Fuck, Paul, that feels so good. So good. Yes, keep going, don't fucking stop. Oh, oh, oooooooohhhh, ffffffffff," Rena hissed quietly through her teeth. She reached up her other hand and bit her knuckle to keep from crying out. A few sharp breaths, a long exhale, and a sudden wetness on my hand told me that she had climaxed, and climaxed well.

"Oh fuck," she breathed. "That was fucking hot." She grabbed a napkin and soaked up some of the juices she squirted. Tossing it on the table, she started to scoot out of the booth.

"OK. Pay the check and let's go," she said with authority. "I need you to take me to your place. We have a few things to do."

I grabbed the check and paid on the way out, leaving a healthy tip for my waiter friend. We raced back to my place since it was close. Once inside, Rena sat on the couch, looking a little pensive about something.

"What's up?" I asked.

She smiled before speaking. "You seem like a guy who can keep a secret."