Date: Sun, 19 Feb 2012 14:34:07 +0000
From: Edmond Giles <edmond.giles@hotmail.com>
Subject: Tony and Friends - Instalment 4

4

   A few days later, Dunc asked me if I was up for doing some shots of some
of his tattoo designs. No problem. There were three guys that he'd asked,
he told me, and he'd arrange for them to come round the next evening.

   I needed to set up a backdrop, so I got Alan to come over and hang one
wall in the playroom with crimson velvet curtains, and the opposite wall
with a plain white screen. We moved some strong lighting into approximate
position and taped down the power cables to avoid accidents. He helped me
to dismantle the sling and hanging chains. No point in putting the punters
off. When I explained why I wanted the curtains, Alan started getting
randy, and we ended up spending the rest of his time on the bed.

   Duncan brought the three lads round just after he closed the shop at six
o'clock. They were all students at the Art College, and were eager to earn
a bit of extra money. Dunc was paying them for the tattoo pics, and had
promised to reimburse me if I had to pay them more for some more `artistic'
shots. He was fannying about like an old hen when they arrived. It was
unlike him and it got on my wick. I told him to piss off and leave us to
it. As he left, I gave him a hug and a big wink to indicate that there were
no hard feelings -- except in my groin.

   I'd sorted out who was who by this time, and organised how we were going
to do the shoot. Andy was blond, long and thin with an aquiline
nose. Dressed neatly but not flashily. Kieran had bright ginger hair cut in
a No.2. grade. He was dressed in bleached jeans and black boots and looked
quite tough. Brian was a sweetie. He looked younger than the others,
although they were all final year students. I didn't think that he'd need
to shave very often. He had a good build, and two gorgeous dimples in his
cheeks and a ready grin.

   The lads weren't too keen on the idea of getting any of their kit off
together, so we agreed that I'd do them one at a time. Andy said he
couldn't stay long, so we left the other two in the kitchen drinking lager
and listening to some music, while I took the first lamb to the slaughter.

   Duncan hadn't told me anything about the tattoos each of these lads had
got. Just that he wanted some good clear shots to go in his catalogue,
preferably without faces to save the blushes of the guys when potential
customers were looking at designs. If I got lucky in persuading them into
more candid shots, he would have a market for them through contacts of
Pavel up in south London.

   In the cellar, I asked Andy to tell me about his tattoos, so I could get
some idea of the best way to pose him. He's got a star-burst across his
shoulders and upper back, and an angular abstract design on one hip that
spread across here - and he gestured to his lower abdomen. Right. The back
and shoulders first.

   I got him to slip off his shirt and stand facing the white screen. A
couple of shots of him half length, and then closer shots of the actual
artwork. Nice clean muscle-lines, but not too bulky. No moles, no hair and
no spots. Just a dozen or so black outlined stars across the flesh. I was
close enough to smell the citrus soap and deodorant that he used. As we
worked, I got him talking about his plans for the evening. He was meeting a
group of other students for a drink, and was hoping to get off with a girl
called Jenny.

   Matter of factly, I suggested that he take off his trousers. He turned
towards me. And I was surprised not to be able to see any evidence of the
tattoo that he had said `spread across here' above his waistline. He bent
over, the bones in his spine showing neatly in a line down his back. He was
unfastening his shoes. I told him to hold it there and took a couple of
quick snaps. As he unsnapped the buttons of his fly, I clicked the camera
again.

   "'Ere! That's not on. You're meant to be taking pics of my tattoos not
the rest of me."

   I explained that the way the light and shadows fell across him made an
interesting composition, and that I wouldn't be showing the shots to
anyone, just keeping them in my portfolio.

   "Am I gonna get paid extra then?" he asked with a leer.

   "Sure," I said, "Just depends how many I take and what of." He nodded
understanding, and I was sure he knew exactly what I meant.

   Assuming that I now had permission for some photos suitable for Pavel, I
suggested that Andy push his trousers down a little bit. He did and stood
there defiantly staring at the camera erotically, with one hand half-inside
his open fly. Then he took the trousers off and folded them neatly over a
chair.

   He stood there in his tight white briefs. I'd only been bullshitting
earlier when I talked about light and shade, but his thinness did actually
make him an interesting subject, quite apart from his male
attraction. There was just a small scattering of hair round his nipples and
on his calves. He stood there with one elegant foot resting on top of the
other and one hip thrust forward. I assessed the jagged black and white
abstraction running from under his boxers to just above the right knee.

   A few more shots to get the detail of the lower reaches of the
tattoo. And then it was time for him to drop the covering so that I could
see the rest of his skin art. The lightning flashes of the ink stabbed
across him between his cock and his belly button. I stepped back to get the
full length of the tattoo in focus. Then in close to get the abdominal
detail, I thought.

   "I want to get in close," I said. "I'd like to get a profile view of
that belly button ring."

   The perfectly flat stomach had a nice green ring sticking out from the
navel, a really nice line against the sharpness of his pelvis. I crouched
and focussed the zoom lens. As I pressed the shutter release, I noticed
that Andy's dick was starting to unfurl. As I stood up, he grabbed his
penis and waved it a bit, and it grew steadily.

   "Yeah. I thought you'd like that," he said as I urgently took another
couple of frames. "But I'll have to come back another time for you to
concentrate on it. I'm late already, and Jenny'll be ready for some of
this. He gave his growing hard-on a last loving caress, and reached for his
clothing.

   Well, at least there would be another day.

   "How much do you reckon I owe you?" I questioned.

   He thought for a moment,

   "Dunc's giving me £15, and you took more for him than for you, but yours
were more personal like. Say £25."

   No sweat, I thought; Duncan will make more than that back from Pavel,
and I paid him.

   I let him out into the street, and went back across the courtyard to the
kitchen. Cute Brian was flicking through the sports section of the paper,
and Kieran was definitely suffering from attitude. He had an angry nature
to go with the angry red of his hair.

   "That took you long enough," he stated as he clumped down the stairs
behind me. "Right. Where do you want me?"

   He flopped onto the chair that Andy had dumped his clothes on and sat
with his legs splayed. An angry young man all right, but with a nice
package swelling out the front of those bleached jeans.

   He started unbuttoning his shirt, while I fiddled with the
camera. Unobtrusively, I managed to get a couple of shots of him. The shirt
was dropped carelessly on the floor, and I decided to let him stay where he
was, even though the red of the curtain clashed strongly with his hair. But
it contrasted beautifully with the chalky white of his typical red-head's
skin. Probably has a pink willy and pubes, too, I thought dismissively. Get
this over and done with.

   I was puzzled. No tattoo to be seen on his front or upper arms. Nice big
biceps though. Strange he hadn't adorned them since he was into ink.

   "On your legs then, is it?" I asked bluntly.

   "Nah. On me back innit." And he stood and turned round before sitting
down again astride the chair and facing its back. Cute bubblebut in those
jeans, too, I noticed. Great. We were off. Quickly, I took the required
frames of the Celtic patterned multicoloured cross on his back and asked if
he'd got any other tatts that I was supposed to record.

   "Nah, but Dunc said to ask you if you'd mind doing a couple of shots of
me piercin'. If yer don't mind."

   Kieran's piercing wasn't visible above the collar; indeed, I couldn't
see it with his shirt off. That could only mean one thing . . .

   "Um. Where is it then?" I asked naively.

   "In me dick, innit? Wanna see?"

   He stood and turned round to face me again. OK, I thought Dunc's a
devious bastard, but I'll sort it out with him later.

   "I'll 'ave to take me boots off though, cos me jeans are that tight I
can't just shove 'em down a bit," he explained. Taking the boots off
provided me with a few more secretive shots of the lad. And it took an age,
as he carefully loosened the laces in each and every one of the eyeholes
that led up the front of his boots to just below the knee. More shots were
taken as he wriggled around to ease the tight jeans off his sturdy thighs
and bulky calves. As I had thought. No hair on his legs at all. Like many
people of his colouring he had a little underarm hair and that was it. Well
fit, though.

   He dropped his tight underpants and kicked them to one side -- click,
click - and then just stood there, legs spread and hands on his hips.

   "Wha' d'you think?" he asked proudly.

   I was confused. I couldn't see a piercing. And I was wrong about the
pubes, he got dark red curls trimmed back to just a little patch above his
pride and joy.

   He saw my confusion and laughed. Almost giggled, in total contrast with
his angry attitude earlier, which had been shed with his clothes.

   "'Ere," he said, taking his white, white flaccid member between thumb
and forefinger and pulled back his loose foreskin to reveal an almost
purple helmet.

   It wasn't a Prince Albert, that ring that goes down the piss slit and
comes through beside the joy-string. It wasn't an ampallang, one of those
excessive bar jobs that pass through from side to side of the glans, just
showing two studs when erect, like Kyle had. No. It was a dinky mauve ring
that went through the frenulum, the joy-string, from side to side, right
where the helmet met the shaft. I bet that caused some nice friction.

   He sat down on the chair again and spread those meaty thighs. His balls
were quite small and were riding high in their bag, which meant I could see
right up to his tight rosebud anal pucker. He flopped his peeled helmet
back on to his belly and waited. I stepped in and raised the camera. My
hands were a bit unsteady, and he noticed.

   "Can rest yer elbows on me legs, like," he suggested. Nice thought, so I
did. A couple of clicks, and the job was done, as I told him.

   "I fort you might want a couple of action shots," he said. "It's summat
or nuffink when it's just 'angin' there."

   Sure enough, his cock was beginning to swell. Flaccid, it was just over
four inches I suppose, and not very thick.

   Erect, it was just on six inches, so about average, but very broad seen
full face and quite narrow seen in profile. The ring looked surprisingly
good --nibbleable -- against his engorged dickhead. I took pictures from
the side and in front. Then we really were done, and I set the camera down
and got to my feet. That's when the major surprise came.

   "Have to toss this off," he said suiting his actions to the words. "I'll
never get them jeans back on otherwise. And you might as well use the
camera, like yer did when I wasn't noticin' like."

   Shit! Caught in the act as a perv, but he didn't mind!

   His action was jerky, all from the forearm, and full handed, with just
his helmet poking out of his fist. It soon became shiny with dick juice,
but he was very slow reaching orgasm.

   "Sorry bart this," he grunted. "Dunno wot's slowin' me down. Wujja mind
holdin' me balls for me?"

   Mind? Back on my knees, I reached forward and touched his scrotum,
fondling the orbs within. With the other hand, I continued to hold the
camera. I didn't want to miss the cum-shot when it came, but didn't take
any pics that might have my hand in view.

   Soon he was grunting with anticipation. I slipped a finger under his sac
and pressed against his perineum and tickled his hole. Recently shaved by
the feel. That did the job and as his knees began to tremble with the onset
of orgasm, I drew back and waited with camera ready. Quickfire, I took a
dozen shots as his cum leaped out past the bouncing mauve ring and splatted
thickly onto his contracted belly. Hopefully at least one of them would
catch some cum in mid-flight.

   He shut his eyes and just massaged slowly as he came down from the high
of his ecstasy. A couple more shots of that. I pulled a tissue out of my
shirt pocket and offered it for mopping up, but Kieran shrugged and just
smeared it across his belly with a broad palm.

   "Cum smells better'n that pouffy scent of Andy's." He wriggled back into
his jeans and shirt as I negotiated payment with him for the `extras' he
had provided. Another surprise.

   "Don't want nuffink," he said, "Dunc's paid me, 'n' I got off didn't I?"
He hadn't put his briefs back on when getting dressed.

   "Usually go commando," he boasted. "Only wore 'em for you." And he
chucked them at me. I caught the smell of fresh boy sweat and randy crutch,
and felt a bit of dampness on the front. The little bastard had known
exactly what he was getting into, and had been turned on by it. I opened
the toy cupboard and chucked his pants inside for later investigation.

   Back in the kitchen, Kieran spoke to Brian, "Yer don't need me to 'ang
about, do yer? I wanna pint before last orders." With a wink and a "See yer
later," he was off out the door.

   I apologized to the remaining cutie, and led the way down the stairs. He
was smiling nervously, the dimples deepening in his youthful cheeks. His
head bent forward bashfully, and the dark hair swept aside from his very
straight parting swung across, shielding his eyes.

   "I'm a bit nervous about this," he explained. "I was when Duncan did my
tattoo as well. I hope you don't mind." Just the one tatt then.

   I got him another can of lager and just talked as I made unnecessary
adjustments to the furniture, the red curtain and the screen. I wasn't sure
what the tattoo was, but given his simplicity, I wondered if it was a heart
on his shoulder with the word Mum inscribed underneath. I ought to have
known not to prejudge people after the recent experience with Kieran.

   "You'd better show me your tattoo," I hinted, still expecting him to
pull up the short sleeve of his shirt.

   He didn't. He blushed and hesitated.

   "It's not an issue. Just show me, I've seen it all before. I'm not going
to laugh at you." He hesitated some more.

   "You might," he said. I shook my head from side to side.

   Brian turned away from me and the movement of his arms indicated that he
was undoing his flies. He turned back to me with a face as red as the hair
on Kieran's head. Sticking out from his fly was a flaccid cock with a blue
and green curly pattern tattooed right round the shaft, in a band about an
inch wide.

   "I don't think I can get a decent angle on it with your trousers in
place," I pointed out. "Every time you move, about half of the tattoo is
hidden by your zip." Reluctantly, Brian started to loosen his waistband.

   "Now I'm sure you're going to laugh," he muttered. Why the insecurity?
Well, I thought the reason was apparent, as his trousers slid down to his
knees and he pulled his shirt up out of the way.

    Although his legs were very hairy, there wasn't a single hair to be
seen at the base of his cock or round his balls. Shaven. Shrivelled up as
it was at the moment, it looked like the equipment of a lad rather than a
man, and I was almost ashamed to be looking at it. It turned out that
wasn't the thing that Brian had thought I would find amusing.

   "It's just that I've got a bit of a problem with control," he said,
standing there with his hands hiding his crutch.

   "What? Do you mean you dribble pee, or what?" I asked, feeling sure that
I knew what he actually meant. Brian giggled and moved his hands. His boy
cock was rising. I'd have to revise my opinion. It was certainly a man's
dick. Up it rose and curved towards his stomach; finally straightening out
like a ruler parallel with his flat belly.

   "That's no laughing matter," I said. Brian giggled again.

   I took pictures of his cock from all round. For some of them he was
standing, for others he was sitting, as I moved around him with my busy
camera. Eventually, I told him that we would have to find some way of
making it go down, since I wasn't sure that Duncan would be able to display
a picture of a hard-on in his catalogue. Brian giggled again.

   "I knew you were going to say that," he said.

   Then he confessed. "While you were taking ages doing Kieran's pictures,
I crept down the stairs. The door was shut," he added hastily, "I didn't
see anything. But I did hear the sound of someone wanking and then Kieran
asking you to hold his balls."

   "You don't mind?"

   "Course not. It's only bodies. It's only natural." He giggled again. "I
went straight to the bog and tossed myself off quick so I wouldn't have a
hard-on for you. But now look." And he waved his rock-hard prick at me. "I
told you I've got a control problem."

   His admission set me free to take whatever pictures I wanted. We got him
totally nude. Sat him on the chair with legs apart like Kieran. Made him
sit astride the back of the chair with his cock sticking out through the
slats. I had him lean against the wall, supporting himself with one hand
and pushing all he had back between his thighs.

   When he sat down on the chair again, he raised one heel to the seat, and
pulled his foot up close to his bum, as he openly wanked on that wonderful
cock. I was down on one knee taking shot after shot of the action when he
raised his elegant foot and placed it deliberately on my crutch and wiggled
his toes. He wanted to see what I've got.

   With one hand, I pulled out my throbbing and dripping prick and balls
and let them hang there. His eyes widened at the sight of my P.A. and his
foot came back, lightly touching my balls and moving away. With one hand I
grabbed his ankle and brought his foot back. I raised it to my lips and
kissed it. Then I fellated his big toe and licked between each of the
smaller ones. He was really getting into it now, his hand moving really
swiftly on his rod.

   I pushed his foot down into my groin and pressed my cock into the cleft
between the big toe and its neighbour. Brian groaned and hunched. I only
just got the camera on him in time as he convulsed. Cum dribbled out
generously from his slit to anoint the back of his hand. Looking brazenly
at me, he raised his hand to his lips and licked away the deposit of creamy
cum. And the camera clicked again. I set it aside, needing to deal with my
own urgent need for orgasm.

   Brian's foot pushed my hand aside. He walked his toes up the length of
my dick and nudged at the P.A. The other foot joined in, toes moving on my
scrotum. I took them in my hands and pressed them together around my
thrusting cock, making a tunnel so that I could fuck between the arches of
his feet. A few seconds later, and my cum was shooting and shooting onto
his beautiful hairy ankles and up onto one calf.

   I raised one of his feet and then the other to my lips, and kissed my
own cum into my mouth, feeling his wiry hair rasp on my tongue. I swallowed
and sighed. "That was great!"

   "It sure was. And I want to do it again when I've recovered," said the
no longer shy or nervous Brian. He bent forward and hugged me.

   I kissed one of his dimples and then the other, and he just
grinned. "Where's the bedroom?" he asked, and pressed his lips to mine to
taste the residue of my cum.

   "Not yet, tiger," I said sternly. We've got to get the pictures of your
dick for Duncan, while it's still soft.