Date: Thu, 9 Aug 2012 09:15:26 -0700 (PDT) From: Damian Subject: Luke and the Red Canvas Shoes - Part 2 This is the continuation of a story about Todd, 25, a physician assistant, and Luke, 20, who first meet in a medical appointment that doesn't quite go as either planned. This posting is an in-depth relationship story that will build slowly. I plan to post subsequent chapters often, so please check back. Or let me know if you'd like to get an e-mail from me whenever I post one. No minors were harmed in the writing of this story, but if you are one please go find something else to do. Please do not reproduce this story in any form without the permission of the author. Your feedback is appreciated. Damian nvtahoeus@yahoo.com LUKE AND THE RED CANVAS SHOES END OF PART 1 Looking stricken, he grabbed the slip from my hand and bolted for the door. I wondered what I could have said to make him feel more comfortable. I'm no psychologist, but I sensed that he needed something more than this office could provide. I thought about him for days afterward. PART 2 So Luke walked into my life and in less than an hour practically ran out of it, leaving a void that would not be ignored. But what could I do about it? As a medical professional I certainly had access to his phone number. It was right there in his chart. But I couldn't just call him up and say "Loved seeing you naked the other day -- how about going for coffee?" If I were going to approach him at all, I had to be wearing a different hat. It had to be casual. It had to be natural. But more than anything else, it just had to BE. Although I'd been dating one of the lab techs in the hospital for a few months, we didn't live together and didn't really ever talk about any kind of exclusive arrangement. I knew he saw other guys from time to time, and so did I. It was more a relationship of convenience than passion. Brian and I didn't really have that much in common, except working in medicine, being 25, and needing to get our rocks off once a week or so with something other than our own right hands. When Brian came over that Saturday night, two days after my session with Luke, I found myself comparing his body and how I felt about it with Luke's. Brian came up short, in more ways than one. I sucked him off first, not enjoying it as much as I had in the past. As I was fucking him, I was having trouble getting off -- until I thought of Luke and how he had erupted so unexpectedly in the doctor's office the other day. That flashback did it for me, and I soon came in powerful squirts. "Wow, babe, that seemed like a good one, the way you were moving and moaning. What were you thinking about? Me, I hope," Brian said with a grin. "Of course," I lied. When my too-brief period of afterglow had subsided, all I wanted was for him to leave, but he had planned to sleep over until morning, as usual. My voice and body language must have betrayed me, however, and he turned over without further comment and promptly went to sleep. I got up and brushed my teeth and washed my face and my dick and then tried to sleep as well. An hour later, still tossing and turning, I reached down and found that Todd junior was hard as a rock again. I threw my sheet aside, turned over on my back, closed my eyes, and imagined Luke sitting naked between my open legs. The cool night air made the short hairs on my thighs stand on end as my right hand traveled down my chest and onto my cut cock. I pretended that my hand was really Luke's -- that he was gently teasing and squeezing and pleasing me, causing my hungry body to tense up. Pre-cum flowed out of me and I coated the head of my dick with it. With my left hand I tweaked my nipples, which became as hard as Luke's nipples did when I had run my stethoscope over them. It wasn't long before I gasped as ropes of hot, pungent semen covered my belly. My gasp woke Brian up, and he observed what I had been doing. "Don't you ever get enough?" he asked blearily before rolling over and going back to sleep. Yeah, I've had about enough...of you, I thought to myself. I cleaned myself up, and sleepiness washed over my finally satisfied body like a gentle ocean wave. "Good night, sweet Luke, wherever you are..." I whispered in my pillow as I drifted off. Brian left earlier than usual the next morning. I sensed that he had another date that Sunday and was as anxious to leave as I was to have him leave. I was starting to wonder what I'd ever seen in him, but maybe I'd just been too busy, tired, or lazy to scout out anyone else lately. My line of work will do that to you. My Sunday morning exercise usually started with a leisurely bike ride in the neighborhood. After a quick breakfast I threw on a pair of riding shorts and a tank top and headed out into the early August heat. Being a creature of habit, I followed my usual route, which took me past the home of an elderly gentleman who was always sitting out just under his open garage door in a folding chair, watching the world go by. He lived about six blocks from my apartment. We had never talked, but we always waved to each other. Over time his waves had evolved from a polite raising of his hand to an enthusiastic waving of his entire arm. I had the feeling that seeing me go by was the highlight of his day. I assumed he lived alone and was probably lonely for human contact, but -- being someone who doesn't do "chit-chat" with strangers terribly well -- I had never stopped to introduce myself. On this particular day, however, I noticed a young guy in the garage who was apparently installing some shelves for my elderly "friend." I did my usual wave and got one in return, but then I noticed that the fellow working with his back to me in the garage was wearing a pair of red canvas shoes! Not many guys wear shoes like that. Could it possibly be...? Denver is a big city, but I knew that most of Dr. Webberley's patients lived in or near the neighborhood where he worked and I lived. I felt my heart rate suddenly skyrocket as I biked slowly past the house. I wanted so much to go back, but I didn't know how to handle the unexpected situation. So I reluctantly continued on my way. After half an hour, I looped back home on a different route. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that the young man in the red canvas shoes had to be Luke. Even though he was wearing a cap and was facing away from me, I realized that the build was the same. The legs that protruded from his knee-length shorts looked to be the same as the ones I had examined just the other day, along with the rest of his young, deliciously attractive body. I thought about it all day but then decided it would have been too much of a coincidence. I prepared myself to return to work and tried to put it out of my mind. But I couldn't. On Monday morning I checked the appointment log, looking for Luke Matheson's name, wondering how we would interact on his follow-up visit. He had royally embarrassed himself on his first visit by ejaculating in front of me. Should I mention anything about it next time or just pretend it didn't happen? Fate decided it for me because Luke's name was on Wednesday morning's schedule, and that was my day off. Damn! I had so much been looking forward to seeing him again -- dressed or otherwise. I found a few minutes to talk to Dr. Webberley and told him that I hadn't found anything wrong with Luke on his first visit. I had hoped we could have a three-way conversation about it, but now it looked like the doc and Luke would be following up without me present. My heart sank. Luke was due in at 10 a.m. on Wednesday, so I waited to take my bike ride until I figured he would be on his way to the doctor. I'd made up my mind that this would be the day I would finally stop and meet the guy who always waved at me. Of course, I had an ulterior motive. Maybe I could find out who was building those shelves for him. If it was indeed Luke, I'd stop again on Sunday and maybe get lucky and he'd be there. I wasn't expecting to be nervous as I approached the older man's house, but I was. I knew he'd be out in his lawn chair, because he always was. I rode up slowly and waved. He waved back, and then a big smile crossed his face when he saw me angling my bike into his driveway for the first time. "I thought it was about time that we finally met," I said, extending my hand to him. "I'm Todd Burnison, and I live a few blocks away." "I know who you are, Todd," he said, causing me to look at him blankly. Up close he did look familiar, but I couldn't place him. "I'm Lloyd Matheson, one of Dr. Webberley's patients. You work in his office, don't you?" "Why, yes, I do," I replied, and then it hit me. He was Luke's grandfather! I'd only seen him a couple of times before, and he looked different sitting 30 feet away in a lawn chair than he had up close in the doc's office. "Wow, I'm sorry -- I just never made the connection before. How are you, Mr. Matheson?" "Lloyd," he said. "Call me Lloyd, Todd. Would you like to sit with me for a while? Can I get you some water or something?" "I have a water bottle here, Lloyd, but I can sit for a while. Do you have another lawn chair?" "Sure thing. Right there in the garage. I'd get it for you, but you're younger and quicker," he said with a smile. I found out that Lloyd was a widower who had lived in this house for 35 years. His wife died a short time after he retired, and he had no real hobbies other than sitting in his driveway and waving to his neighbors. I told him that I had moved into the neighborhood about a year ago -- the same time I started working for Dr. Webberley. To my relief, I noticed that the new shelving in the garage wasn't completed yet. "Who's building the shelves for you, Lloyd?" I innocently asked, already knowing the answer. "My grandson Luke is doing that work for me. He's a good boy -- kind of shy around people, but he's a good handyman. I invited him to move in here with me for a while. His parents are my son and his wife up near Fort Collins. There were some, uh, issues there, and I was glad to have some company down here." "Issues?" I said, implying a question without actually asking it. Lloyd looked down, as if to ponder how candid he should be. His pause told me that it would be best to change the subject. Although intensely curious about it, I had a vested interest in treading carefully into Luke's life. "Lloyd, I met Luke one day last week in Dr. Webberley's office." "Yes, I figured you might have. He hasn't been feeling well lately. He said the doctor had to reschedule him. In fact, he's there right now for a follow-up visit." I pretended not to know that. "Oh? Well, this is my day off, so I won't be seeing him." "He wasn't real eager to go back there today. I think he's kind of spooked by doctors' offices. I asked him how it went last week, and he didn't seem to want to talk about it. All he said was that he had to go back today." "Well, you know Dr. Webberley. If anyone can get to the root of Luke's health problem, he's the one." "Yes, I know. That's why I suggested that Luke go there. He just acts like he doesn't have much energy, which is odd for someone only 20 years old. I worry about him, but there's not much I can do." "Who does the cooking here, Lloyd?" "We both do. I just do simple meals, because it wears me out to be on my feet too much. Luke's trying to learn how to cook, but I don't think either of us is going to be a gourmet chef. We get by." We talked for a bit longer, and then I decided it was time for me to move on. I didn't think I should be there when Luke got home. I would swing by another time. "Thanks for stopping to talk to me, Todd. Come by any time. I know you go by a couple of times a week on your bike. Don't be a stranger." "You're welcome, Lloyd. It was nice to visit with you." "Can I tell Luke you stopped by? Maybe he would remember you from last week." I'm sure he would, I thought. "No, I think maybe it would be best if we just met casually another time." "As you wish. See you later, Todd." "Bye, Lloyd. Take care." All the way home, and for the rest of the day and evening, all I could think about was my conversation with Lloyd Matheson -- and the revelation that Luke was his grandson. Was this fate's way of telling me I should go back there in hopes of talking to Luke on neutral ground? Or was he -- as a patient of Dr. Webberley -- socially off limits to me? I thought about the way he had put that silly gown on backwards. About how I'd helped him put it on correctly without staring too much. About how he'd stood on the scale with his sexy little ass on display to me. About how he -- and I -- had gotten an erection from standing so close together. About how fate had intervened and given me an opportunity to give the guy a physical when Dr. Webberley had been called away. About how he'd gotten excited -- and then embarrassed at cumming naked in front of me. And then, sadly, how he'd left so quickly without even looking at me, much less saying good-bye. How would Luke react to me if I just biked into his grandfather's driveway on my next day off and caught him working in the garage "unexpectedly"? I eventually made up my mind that I'd do it if that was to be the only way I could see him again. I just had to. At work the next day I asked Dr. Webberley about Luke. I thought it was appropriate since I'd been the one to do his initial workup. "Nothing conclusive yet, Todd," he told me. "He seems to have symptoms of anemia, possibly. I sent him over to the lab for them to draw some blood, and we'll take a look at the results before taking any action. If his hemoglobin count is low, I'll probably send him for an x-ray to see what's going on in his gut. I asked him to come back next week for another visit. I'll let you know. Thanks for stepping in for me last week." The pleasure was all mine, I wanted to say but didn't. He ran off to another appointment, and I surreptitiously looked for Luke's name in next week's appointment book. Wednesday again! Did he ask for that, knowing that I didn't work that day of the week? I went through the rest of the day like a robot. That Saturday evening, Brian and I went out for a drink and then came home and went to bed -- more out of habit than any real desire on my part. The longer the night went on, the more I wanted it over with. "I had a great week at work," Brian told me, while stripping down to his bare skin. "You should have seen all the cute guys who came through the lab. Most of my customers are old farts, but I must have had three or four young cuties this week." "Oh?" I asked, suspecting that Luke was one of them. The thought that Brian had even so much as touched Luke almost made me want to puke. Todd junior was suddenly in no mood to cooperate with our usual Saturday night activity. I made a half-hearted attempt to suck Brian off, but I gagged when he came. "What's wrong, babe?" he asked as I slumped back on my pillow, showing -- and feeling -- not the slightest interest in any reciprocation from him. "I can't do this, Brian." "What do you mean? Did someone forget to take his Viagra today?" He was practically laughing at his own lame humor and toyed with my limp dick like it was supposed to do tricks for him or something. I swatted his hand away. "Just go, Brian. I'm in no mood..." "Well, excuse me, but I thought these little Saturday night get-togethers were the highlight of your week. Where'd you get that burr up your ass?" "We need to take a break. This isn't working for me anymore." "Anymore? That sounds rather ominous. Did you get a better offer or something?" "Maybe. Just go. Take your stuff and just go, okay?" "I'm going back to the bar," he said, angrily stuffing his satisfied dick back into his jeans. "We left better meat hanging there than anything I'm finding here tonight." Brian finally shut his whiny trap and found his way out, not trying very hard to close the door quietly. I was just glad that he was now on the other side of it. I knew he wouldn't darken it again. I brushed my teeth twice as long as usual and swirled some mouthwash to get the taste of him out of my mouth. Then I took a long, hot shower and changed the bed sheets so I could get some sleep. I had a mission tomorrow to rest up for. (To be continued) Thanks for reading my story. If you have any comments, I'd be happy to hear them. Your feedback is the only "pay" we Nifty authors get for our efforts. Please put "Luke" in the subject line so I know your message is not spam. Sign your first name and location, if you don't mind, so I can respond appropriately. I answer every message. Please don't reproduce any part of this story, or any of my stories, without permission. To see a clickable list of all my Nifty stories, please click on the "Authors" tab on the Nifty site. Then scroll down and click on "Damian" (but note that "Damian Chandler," just below my name, is a different author). I encourage you to make a donation to Nifty to support the work they do to make these stories available. Damian nvtahoeus@yahoo.com