Date: Sat, 1 Oct 2005 12:51:52 -0700 (PDT)
From: T Luke McPhee <achieving_loft@yahoo.com>
Subject: Achieving Loft 01

The following story is a work of fiction set in the
format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is
entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to
accurately reflect persons in towns, cities, or
governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If
sexual scenes involving male to male relationships
offends you, then you should not read this story.
Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in
most states and countries, you are not allowed to read
this by law. This is fiction. Don't forget, in real
life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got
condom?

"Achieving Loft" 01
Story by T. Luke McPhee

'I'm going to love this car!' became my first
reaction, as I pulled out of the driveway.

My new car, a leftover 2005 Jaguar XJ Super V8. I got
it for a 'steal', at $90,330.00. I told the Jaguar
agent that I wouldn't be needing child locks, since
I'd never be carrying a child in the car, so he
deducted $10 and threw in his cousin's guitar CD. Hey,
nothing wrong with some lite classical guitar music,
while cruising the countryside.

I entered Rt. 78, after journeying from Washington
Rock Road, via Mountain Blvd, up the hill, which I
only new as the 'steep hill', not worrying about what
it was actually called. , after zipping down the long
and winding road at speeds unmentionable. What a
joyride, I can tell you! I could probably outdo any
cop cruiser, but kept to the 35 mph speed limit, til I
reached the turnoff for 78. I knew the cops didn't
tolerate speeders along this drag of highway, but
often saw some hot ones cruise by. Sometimes I
wondered if it would be worth getting a speeding
ticket? Nah. However, maybe I'd be getting my wish, as
I saw the red lights flickering behind me. I pulled
over on the shoulder of 78, right before the Berkeley
Hts. turnoff.

The pushbutton did the hassle of turning the crank, to
get the window down.

"Good morning, Sir," was all he said, bending down,
looking in, his eyes swiping over the dashboard, from
left to right. After whistling, he replied, "Nice
piece of equipment you have here!"

I might have been mistaken, but I wasn't sporting an
erection!

"You mean the car, officer?"

He looked me straight in the face and giggled. I
realized what I had just said.

Brazenly, he replied, "Yeah, I meant the car, but hey,
if you're willing, I am too!"

With entrapment on my mind, I offered back, "Do you
always stop motorists, with picking them up in mind,
officer?"

He changed his tune, immediately, saying nervously,
"I... ah... um, didn't mean anything by it, sir, I can
assure you that..."

It became my time to laugh, at this cop falling all
over his words.

"It's okay. What's your name? Luke, here," I said,
more comfortably, extending my shaking hand, putting
my arm across my chest.

"Whew! You really had me going there, Luke. John
Newcomb's the name."

"Nice to meet you John."

"Hey, look, I'm sorry I pulled you over, Luke. It's
just that in this area there's some beauties that go
by and sometimes I can't pass up seeing what the
vehicle holds, on the inside."

"I'll take that as a compliment, John."

He most likely meant the guts of the car, but I loved
to tease!

"Looks like I'm getting myself in deeper and deeper,
huh Luke?" I knew he realized where I was going with
this, "I didn't mean... oh yeah.... hee heee."

"Well, I need to get going John. Nice to meet you.
Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime."

I could sense his disappointment. In a way, I had the
same inclination. From what I could see, which was
more than a good looking kisser, I wouldn't mind
getting to know John, beyond our highway encounter.

"Say, would it be okay if I left my number with you,
Luke?"

He did seem a bit edgy, as a cop handing a motorist
personal information, so I tried to ease it over. I
did want to keep in touch, as well.

"I see. You want to try out my Jaguar for yourself
sometime, huh John?"

"Um... yeah, that's it, Luke. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all John, here's a piece of paper."

"Thanks, Luke."

As I pulled off of the shoulder, he already warned me
to be careful, as to not have my tires spitting up any
loose gravel. A very pleasant man, John wished me
'good luck' and to be careful, as with any motorist.

He followed me up the road, until I make the left turn
switchover to Rt. 24. I had to piss something fierce,
so turned off at the Short Hills exit and proceeded to
the mall entrance. What a nightmare of mazes! Finally
I found a parking place almost directly in front of
Nordstrom's. I figured they 'have' to have a jon. Most
likely somebody would be cursing me out, as I took up
two parking spaces, the white line running underneath
the middle of my sportscar. As I proceeded to the
store entrance, I spied back at my brand new Jaguar
XJ, no less than five times.

My attire was more suited for dinner with a client,
but I didn't feel like zipping around in my casual
jeans and tee shirt. No wonder, with my $800.00 Hickey
tween sport coat, $225.00 flat front pants, and the
Tommy Hilfiger windowpane dress shirt, that set me
back $60.00, that somebody didn't beg to help me. No,
I waltzed right through the men's department and near
the customer service area. Yeah, alright, two teen
guys did give me the once or twice over. I smiled at
them. Nice of them to think of smiling back. They
didn't slouch, as far as the high ticket clothing,
covering their later teen bodies, had been concerned.
Why should I be surprised? This is the mecca of Short
Hills shopping!

Usually, when dressed to the 'T', I took on a stall,
which I proceeded to do. Suddenly, the penne dish I
had at Paisano's began to filter through my system.
Off came the sport coat, hanging it on the hook of the
back door. I quickly removed the tweed coat away to
read, scratched into the door, 'if you can read this,
you're gay!' I laughed, grinning to nobody but the
interiors of the stall. Typical high school stuff.
That wasn't the end of it. After making sure the
toilet seat was spotless, both sides, I dropped my
pants, low rise CK's and sat down just in time. I
didn't think I was too vocal.

'Ooooooh!' at the relief of the fare from last night
leaving my system.

"I know how you feel, mister!"

'How I feel?' I leaned to my left, bracing my arm
against the stall wall. Sure enough, a pair of jeans
sat on the floor. I wasn't clued in to how old the
occu'pants' could be, but the voice sounded young.
Silence followed for awhile. I did my business, pissed
out a few, wiped, stood, pulled up my briefs, pants,
latched the buckle, then went for my jacket. The same
time I threw the bolt on the stall door, I heard the
one next to me disengage. I have to admit that it
piqued my curiosity to see whom those jeans belonged
to. I looked in his direction.

"Hi!"

"Uh, hello there," I decided not to be too friendly,
heading for the sink.

"I'm Roberto."

"Oh, okay," I plainly said to the kid that looked to
be somewheres in the early college stages.

"I didn't get your name, mister?"

"That's because I didn't give it," I informed Roberto,
not seeking to be highly friendly.

"Oh."

Looking in the mirror, he looked kind of sad. My
immediate reaction had been 'drugs'. That's when the
men's room door flew open.

"Oh, so here you are, Roberto! I've been looking all
over Nordstrom's for you. Ro-ber-to, come on. You know
you've got to tell me when you've got to go."

"Sorry Alberto. I'm always a problem for you, aren't
I?"

"No. Never, Roberto. I just have to know where you
are. You know that, Roberto."

I then felt like a real heel. Obviously, there had
been something dibilitating about Roberto. Thinking
back to his remark, it struck me as comical.

"Did you get dad on the phone, Alberto?"

"No. Probably he's still at work. We'll have to walk
home."

I then figured out that the two looked like, most
likely had to be, brothers. Alberto, doing his
caretaker's job of keeping track of Roberto.

"My feet hurt, Alberto."

"I'm sorry about that, bro, but I don't have money for
a taxi."

"Thanks for the ice cream, Alberto."

What a tender moment, as Roberto rushed Alberto,
putting him in a huglock, the caring brother resigning
to placing his arms around his younger brother and
hugging him back. Looking up, he caught me eyeing the
two. I figured I'd get a rude comment back, like 'mind
your own business'.

Instead, Alberto informed me, "My brother," as if he
thought I thought something 'gay' about the two of
them embracing!

"What Alberto?" Roberto asked, as the younger brother
broke the hugging action.

"Nothing, Roberto. I was telling the man here that
we're brothers."

I felt like a total idiot, when Roberto spoke the
truth about me, complaining, "Oh, he's a bastard!"

"Rober-to!" Alberto scolded him. "That's not nice.
Mama didn't bring us up like that. Now apologize to
the man."

His head rocking back and forth on his shoulder,
Roberto replied to his brother's wishes.

"Sorry mister."

Alberto adds, "I hope my brother hasn't been bothering
you, mister. He's not supposed to be in the mall on
his own."

"Oh, no. He hasn't been a problem to me. In fact, he's
kind of right," I told Alberto.

He smiled, saying, "You mean, you are a bastard?"

I giggled, seeing the jocularity in Alberto's demeanor
showing through. I followed his lead.

"Yeah, I guess I am. I think I have some apologizing
to do to Roberto."

Walking the two steps, to stand in front of him, I
extended my hand.

"Roberto, I'm sorry I was rude to you. My name is
Luke."

"Hi Luke," Roberto then said, meekly.

Having Alberto there, seemed to overshadow his
response.

"And I'm Alberto. Alberto Dominquez."

"Good to meet you, Alberto."

"I'm sorry about my brother, Luke. It's nice meeting
you, but we've got to get going on home. My dad will
be home soon and I've got to get started on the
dinner."

I figured the least I could do, is be cordial.

"Say, can I give you boys a ride?"

Roberto pipes up with, "No. I can't ride with
strangers."

However, Alberto, eyeing me up and down, replies, "I'm
with you, Roberto. That's makes a difference, okay?
Besides, Roberto, you're nineteen years old. 'Bout
time you've learned to trust some strangers. I think
we can trust Luke. What do you think, Roberto?"

Both of us waited for Roberto to filter the thoughts
through his brain. He did more than make up his mind,
verbally, with me. Moving forward, he wove his hands
inside my $800.00 sports coat and hugged me, pinning
his chest up against mine, the top of his head fitting
under my chin.

"Sorry, Luke."

"It's no problem, Alberto," I replied, really not
minding, using my hands to rub up and down the kid's
back.

"If your offer still stands, Luke, we'll take that
ride."

"It's still there, waiting, Alberto."

"C'mon Roberto, before you wrinkle Luke's shirt!"

The two lived quite a ways from the mall, in a nice
section of Maplewood.

"This is our house, Luke. you can let us off here."

Roberto, having fun switching CD's nine million times,
asks me, "Luke, you want to stay for dinner, so I can
play all your CD's?"

I laughed out loudly, as Alberto blushed.

"Ro-ber-to!" Alberto again criticised.

"Oops! You can't come for dinner, Luke," Roberto
withdrew the offer.

"Ro-ber-to!"

Roberto kept digging himself deeper into trouble with
Alberto. I figured I better help him out of his
mischief.

"Actually, I have to meet with a friend. How about I
stop on my way home, in a week or so?"

"Where do you live?" Roberto inquired.

I know I had mentioned to Alberto that I resided in
Warren, but reiterated it, for Roberto's benefit.

"Do you live in a nice house like our's Luke?"

"Um, probably not as fancy," I fibbed, which Alberto
picked up on, figuring on how I was dressed and what I
drove.

"Roberto, run inside and get a paper and pen for me."

"Yes, sir!" Roberto saluted and then hightailed it
into the quaint brick home.

"Well, it's been nice to meet you Luke. Really."

"Oh I believe you and I think Roberto is kind of a
cute guy."

"Cute? You think?"

I realized that I had just moved our conversation into
a different outlook. I'm not sure how Alberto was
perceiving it, but I let it ride.

"How do you mean Cute, Luke?"

He was prying!

I'm not out to hide anything, so figure I'd let on to
my sexuality, seeming the timing to be correct.

"Well, Alberto, I don't know how you feel about this
and if you want to change your mind about dinner on my
return, it's fine. I'm gay."

A big grin widened his face.

"I wasn't sure Luke. So are we."

"Here's the pen and paper, Alberto. Hey, what's up?"

Both Alberto and I, realized Roberto's implication.
Yeah, there was a sense of mystery about us now.

Alberto put it bluntly, placing his arm over his
brother's shoulder, telling him, "Luke is just like
us, Roberto."

"He's a latino?"

Alberto and I laughed, which made Roberto blush.

"No, bro, he's gay."

"Did you like my hug, Luke?"

"Yes, but I didn't hug you because either of us are
gay, Roberto. I hugged you because we're friends."

"When you come back for dinner, can I have another
friendly hug, Luke?"

"How about one right now, Roberto?"

I didn't have to beg him to run around the car.
Opening my door, Roberto was waiting.

As I redoubled my trail, I got lost a little. I don't
know by which route Alberto directed me, from the
mall, but fortunately, I found myself on the Garden
State Parkway. I knew that it intersected with Route
80 and I'd find myself going west,   which had been my
original objective. From there I would find the  the
Andover exit. I skipped over the Mapquest segment for
Route 287.

"206?" I questioned.

Sure enough, the directions read Route 206. I figured
that I could have picked up 206 way down near
Bridgewater and had a nice scenic ride. Then it dawned
on me. If I had done that, I wouldn't have met neither
John Newcomb, nor those cute Dominquez boys. In
friendship, I meant. True, when nineteen year old
Roberto hugged me, in the men's room and later on, at
my car, in Maplewood, I sensed a 'wamth'. Plus, I
thought Alberto to be quite a handsome guy. As I drove
onto 80-West, I thought about how I really liked the
two and looked forward to visiting them in a week or
so.

I did make one more pit stop, up around Ledgewood, but
then figured I could hold it, as I began seeing signs
for 206.

Continued.....

              Copyright 2005 T. Luke McPhee
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