Date: Thu, 6 Apr 2017 21:56:09 +0000 (UTC)
From: Tony Freitas <tfreitas62@yahoo.com>
Subject: 3.2.1...Smile! - Chapter #1 - "Flash" (Gay Male- Adult/Youth)
This story is work of fiction and contains sexual scenes between adults and
minors. Please note this story also contains minor drug use. If these
things offend you, or you are under the age of eighteen and this subject
matter is illegal then please stop reading. As Always, please remember to
support nifty, as your donations are what keep the site going. I love to
hear your feedback as it inspires me to keep writing.
(Tony @ tfreitas62.yahoo.com). I hope you enjoy.
3, 2, 1, Smile!
Chapter #1 - "Flash"
Sitting on my bed in my boxer briefs, I flicked my plastic yellow lighter,
the flame hovered above my black glass pipe I had affectionately named
"Captain Kush". I took my third draw in as the flames darted into the bowl
and the smoke filled my lungs. I set Captain on my nightstand as I grab my
bottle of lube, the only items I had unpacked. My thumb hooked the band on
my boxer briefs and pushed them down, as I coughed out that last inhale.
My right hand now coated in lube grabbed my 5-1/2" teen rod, as the high
set in. My head was dancing between images as my hand pumped my stiff
cock. The time seemed to pass slowly until the sensation was too much and
shots of thick cum splatter my bare chest. I was in no rush to wipe it
off, instead I just laid their naked, baked, and satisfied as I fell
asleep.
"Blake, it's time for breakfast." My mom yelled from the kitchen.
"It's too early." I mumbled back.
My mom and I had recently moved into what used to be my grandparents'
house, after my grandma had passed away a few weeks earlier. My grandfather
had passed away several years prior and my father left us when I was seven,
so it was just my mother and I. Before moving into my grandparents house,
My mom and I use to live in a two bedroom apartment in the downtown Seattle
area, where my mother worked very hard at her retail management job for a
large chain store.
My grandparents on the other hand had lived in a nice house in Tacoma,
which my mom found out during the meeting with the lawyer was completely
paid for and now ours. While it was hard to leave our friends and
routines, it was a no-brainer to move into the house that was paid for. So
my mom and I packed up, headed south and moved in just a few days ago. It
was weird moving into the house I had so many fond memories of and not
seeing my grandparents there. My mom and I loved them very much and when
my grandma passed it hit us both pretty hard.
My mom opened the door to my room, "Hey, I know its summer time for you,
but it would be nice if you got up and.... OH MY GOD, are you kidding me
Blake. You know how I feel about you smoking, and come on, you could be a
little more discrete. You're fourteen, it's time to grow up a little." My
mom said looking at the bottle of lube and my weed pipe. My mom then
turned and headed out to work without another word. She had gotten her job
transferred to the local store here in Tacoma once we moved.
I had barely lifted my head to hear her when she was lecturing me, but when
I did start to get up I was sure glad that at some point in the evening I
had pulled the covers on me as I was still naked as the day I was born,
only I am pretty sure I didn't enter the world with dry cum on my chest.
Funny thing about it, it doesn't take much to distract a fourteen year old
boy. You see, I had every intention of getting up this morning and
tackling the moving boxes in my room, until my mom came in yelling at me
and mentioned my pipe and the lube. Now they were all I could think about.
I knew she didn't like me smoking weed, but being a hippy girl herself, she
just barked a lot and not really did much to stop me.
I smoked a bowl and launched another load of cum onto my bare chest before
heading to the bathroom to hit the shower. Stopping at the mirror to
examine my current state of affairs. The long hours spent diving and
playing soccer, my two favorite sports, had left me with a very nice
physique. My abs were starting to show the signs of a full six pack, which
the current load of cum was just starting to slide across. My legs and
arms were filling out nicely, with the definition in my shoulders standing
out the most. From my mother I inherited a bubble butt, which stood out on
my somewhat short 5'-1" frame, and was often commented on when I walked
around in just my speedos. My short dirty blond hair, light blue eyes, and
little facial features made me look younger than I really was. All in all
I was quite pleased with my look, and if the attention I got from both the
girls and boys was any indication, I was right with my assessment.
Of course it was only the boys and their oppinions that I cared about, as I
had know for a couple years now that I was gay and had no interest in
girls. Only my two closest friends knew it and they promised to never
share my secret with anyone.
The shower left me feeling refreshed, the pot left me feeling hungry. I
threw on a pair of old white nylon soccer shorts without any underwear,
before I headed to the kitchen to rummage for food. Grilled cheese sure
sounded good to me, so I placed a pan on burner and went to grab the
ingredients. When I opened the fridge I saw the leftover pizza from the
night before and changed my mind. Unfortunately I had forgotten about the
pan and the burner I had turned on. I was in my room unloading boxes when
the smoke alarm went off. I ran to the kitchen but it was too late to do
anything as the flames raced up the wall behind the stove.
By the time my mom pulled up, the fire fighters had extinguished the fire
and were packing up to leave. The damage was contained to just the kitchen
and the roof above it. My mom had ran up to me to make sure I was fine,
but then focused on the damage as she paced through the front yard. Before
the fire fighters left they gave my mom a number for a contractor that
dealt with fire damage like this. She was told to call him before we
entered the house again, which we did while we waited for his arrival.
"What happened Blake?" She said with a worried look on her face.
"I left a pan on the top of the stove and forgot about it." I said looking
at the ground in shame.
Quickly switching from worried to pissed, my mom glared at me, "Were you
high?"
I didn't answer, I just continued to look at the ground.
The tone of my mom's voice turned from upset to almost panic as she looked
at me, "Blake, this is bad, real bad. I found out when we got this house
that grandma had forgotten to pay the homeowner's insurance. I was in the
process of setting it up again, but we're not covered. I have no idea how
I'm fixing this." She said more to herself than me as she turned and
looked at the hole in the roof above the kitchen.
Just as I was about to apologize and promise to never smoke again a large
raised white ford truck came roaring down the street. Hudson Construction,
I read silently the decal on the side of the truck. A large man in a blue
stripped button shirt, which was tucked into his blue jeans stepped from
the truck. The man had a buzz cut with a thick neatly groomed beard and
mustache and stood at least 6'-4" or greater. My mom and he talk briefly
before he entered the house, as I went and sat up against a tree in the
front yard. On his return he walked over to my mom, who had been talking to
all the neighbors who had come out to watch the spectacle. I sat on the
ground with my knees up to my chest as my arms wrapped around them, fearing
what the man had to say.
"So the damage seems fairly isolated to just the kitchen, with most of the
load baring walls still intact. I can have my boys jump on the roof and
get some plywood over the hole and some plastic put up so you can go back
in there." He said to my mother, before staring down at me holding his
gaze on me for what seemed like an uncomfortably long time.
"Thank you Mr. Hudson." My mom said,
"Call me Jake." He said to my mom and then returning his gaze back to me.
"Ok Jake. Do you think we can stay here tonight or would you recommend we
stay somewhere else?" My mom asked.
"Well, once my boys put up the plastic and plywood I don't see why you
couldn't stay here, if you can get passed the smoky smell."
"As we discussed earlier I'm working on getting the homeowners insurance
renewed, but until then this is coming out of my pocket. Any idea what
this will take to fix?"
Again Jake looked down at me, before he spoke. I was starting to wonder if
my mom had told him how this was all my fault, and his gaze upon me was to
let me know the shame and guilt I should be feeling for letting this
happen.
"Well the cost for the initial review and mitigation will be around $2,500.
The clean-up and build back of the kitchen is probably around $30,000, when
you throw in all new appliances and a roof."
My mom pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger,
clearly troubled by the news Jake just gave her.
"Why don't we just start with securing the place and then we can discuss
rebuilding your house tomorrow, and I'll see what I can do to help you
out." Jake said to my mother before he looked down on me again, only this
time his look was not that of moral judgement but as if he was giving me a
once over from head to toe.
It was at that point it occurred to me that I was sitting shirtless in a
thin pair of soccer shorts, which currently based on the way I was sitting,
you could see through the leg hole straight down to my crotch. I stood up
quickly crossing my arms over my chest, feeling very exposed, as Jake
smiled at my embarrassing predicament.
My mom was at least pacified by Jake's comments, and relaxed a bit on the
lecturing as we made it through the night. I on the other hand couldn't
stop thinking about the interaction with Jake, and really needed a hit off
my pipe, but there was no way in hell I was ever smoking weed or anything
ever again.
The next morning the smell of burnt wood filled the house, as my mom and I
were busy cleaning up as much of the mess as possible, when Jake returned.
"Hi Jake," my mom said as she welcomed him in.
"Hi Tammy," Jake said as he walked in.
After shaking hands with my mother, Jake walked right up to me, in which I
was glad that I was properly dressed this time.
"I apologize young man, with all the goings on yesterday I forgot to ask
your name?" Jake said as he reached out to shake my hand.
"Blake", I said as his massive hand engulfed mine in a manly hand shake
that shook my whole arm.
"Very good," he said as he released my hand and walked over to the kitchen.
"Well I crunched the numbers and I was pretty close to my estimate
yesterday. Just a bit under $30K to replace your kitchen." He said
looking at my mom.
Her sullen face was clear as day, which made my heart sink in my chest as I
felt horrible.
"Is there anything we can work out, perhaps some kind of payment plan?" My
mom asked.
"Unfortunately payment plans on something this small tend to cost me more
money than the projects worth. I have to front the cost for the material
and labor and by the time you've completely paid me back, I have lost all
of the profit in paper work managing all the billings." Jake said sharing
his gaze between my mom and me.
My mom could only sigh, as she starred off into the mess that was our
kitchen, until Jake spoke again.
"However, last night I thought about your situation and how unfortunate it
was for you to have recently lost your mother, and then at no fault of your
own not have insurance for this house when this accident struck. So..... I
am willing to make you two this deal." Jake said emphasizing the word two
as he spoke.
"If you'll cover the $2,500 for initial visit and cleanup, then I will
cover the cost for everything else, including the new appliances to build
out your kitchen." At this point there was a long pause leaving my mom and
me in suspense.
"This sounds too good to be true," my mom finally said, questioning Jake's
sincerity.
"Well there is a catch. What I ask in return is this, Blake is to come to
my house once or twice a week and clean my yards and do any other chore's I
have around my house, like cleaning out my garage or washing my cars. This
will allow me to save money on thoes expenses, like my landscaper and such,
which I will apply to cost of your kitchen."
"Oh my God, that's perfect. Of course he can do that." My mom said with a
glee in her voice as she sold me off to slave labor without batting an eye.
I on the other hand wanted more information before I handed myself over to
hard labor, "How long do I have to do this for?"
Jake seemed ready for this question as he quickly responded, "Until your
mother and I feel your services have covered my costs in repairing this
kitchen. Being honest, I feel it should be at least a year, but like I
said your mother and I can work that out."
"I think that's more than fear." My mom said shooting me a look for even
questioning this great gift we'd been given.
"If you're ok with the deal then I'll get you guys on the schedule and get
going with the repairs. Blake do you have a bike or means by which you can
make it to my house, which is about 5 or 6 miles from here?"
"Yeah, I have a bike, just let me know where you live." I said with little
excitement in my voice.
After it was settled, with my future seemingly destined to have weed and
grass in it again, Jake and my mother moved on to discussing the repairs to
the kitchen and roof without me. The more I thought about the situation
the more I realized it wasn't that bad. I had never mowed a lawn before,
but how hard could it be?
The next morning I threw on a white t-shirt, jeans, some boxer briefs and
ran a wet comb through my hair as I grabbed my bike and headed out the
door. It took me just about 20 minutes to ride to the address Jake gave
me. I was to be there by 10am which seemed like an odd time since I knew
he worked, but I wasn't complaining as I got to sleep in. The neighborhood
he lived in was full of huge custom houses, which sat on yards that went on
forever. Jake's house was at the end of cul-de-sac and was surround by a
large metal fence that was interweaved with a hedge giving the whole
property complete privacy. Two large red brick columns supported the gates
that blocked the road up to his house. I pushed on the intercom button and
announced myself as the little placard gave directions to do. Without a
response the gate began to open. Pedaling up the long driveway I was
shocked at what I saw, first the house and the yard it sat on were
enormous, and second there was a crew of men already working on the
landscaping. As I walked up the steps to the front door I wondered if Jake
was going to fire them now that I was here to take care of the yards. Of
course I also wondered how on God's green earth was I going to do what it
looked like was taking five professional men to do.
I stood in awe at the front door to this massive house, clearly noting Jake
had done well for himself in the construction trade. I was assuming a
butler or an assistant was going to answer the door as it was only fitting
for a house this nice, so I was a bit shocked when Jake answered.
"Blake, you're right on time. That's good because I don't have a lot of
time to waste. Follow me." He said in a very no-nonsense voice, as he
turned and headed down this long hallway.
His house was huge and decorated with very modern looking furniture as I
followed him down the hallway. At the end of the hallway there was a
circular staircase, which headed down to a lower room that reminded me of
game room that I had seen in one of my friend's house. But this room was
much larger and there wasn't the typical TV or gaming items or anything
really that you'd expect in a game room. This room was sparse with its
cold tile floor and white empty walls, the only things set up looked like a
professional photo shoot, complete with a large green screen, large
umbrella lights on tripods and a cart of cameras and detached lenses. The
only other item in this room was a large 5-setion folding screen that
people use to use in the olden days to change behind.
"What's all this? I asked. But Jake ignored me and walked over to a laptop
which sat on the cart with the cameras.
"Come here Blake, I need to explain to you what's going to happen from now
on." He said as he spun the laptop screen in my direction.The screen was a
large excel spread sheet that had my name at the top and a list of
categories.
BLAKE PATTERSON CATEGORY #3 $50 Owed = $30,000 CATEGORY #2
$150 Photo Shoot #1= $ 0 CATEGORY #1 $250 Balance = $30,000 CATEGORY #0
$500 CATEGORY P# $1,000 CATEGORY X $1,500 CATEGORY XXX $2,000
"When I am not doing construction, I like to take photos and sell them.
This is what you're going to do to pay off the debt you now owe me."
"I don't understand, what about mowing the lawns and washing your cars?" I
asked dumbfounded.
"Did you see the size of my yard? Do you really think I would have kid take
care that?" He said laughing at the thought of it.
"So what, am I to be your assistant or something?" I asked kind of puzzled
by it all.
"No, I don't need an assistant. I need you to stand over there. It's you
who I am going to be taking photos of." Jake said looking down at me.
"So what, you're going to take photos of me, and like sell them? Like to
strangers?" I asked still really confused.
"That's exactly what I'm going to do." Jake said matter of factly.
"Why? I mean who would buy photos of me?"
"You'd be surprised at how many people love looking at photos of young men
such as yourself." Jake said.
The light bulb finally came on as I figured out what he was talking about,
"You mean like, like perv's and freaks?" I asked shocked and pissed.
"Well I don't know I'd call them that, but sure, to keep it simple for you,
yeah I'm selling them because people, or as you call them perv's and
freaks," He said using air quotes, like looking at boys like you."
"That's sick, and I didn't agree to this. What if I say no, what then?" I
said with a curled lip.
"Simple, I call my guys and tell them to pick up their tools and head home.
Then I call your mom and tell her you refused to mow the lawn, and that the
deal is off." He said as if it didn't affect him either way.
I was at a loss as I stood there frozen, paralyzed by a mix of emotions,
confusion, anger, fear. "I'll, I'll just tell her what you were going to
do and she'll have you arrested." I yelled with all the muster I could
get.
Jake just smiled as he spoke calmly, "The room would be turned back into a
game room before you hung up the phone with your mom, and in the end it
would be your word against mine. I'll also tell your mom you came over
here stoned out of your mind. And that I just didn't feel safe having you
around my house." He said as if he just declared check mate.
I stood there stewing over his words, deep down knowing it would be his
word against mine, and based on the recent events, it was really just his
word.
"This is fucking blackmail." I said in a defeated voice.
Jake took a seat on a stool near the cart as his voice softened and his
face took on an expression of genuine concern,
"Look Blake, this isn't my first photo shoot. I've done thousands of them
and there's a reason I continue to do them without getting, let's just say
in trouble. It's because I don't force anyone to do anything they're not
willing to do. Models come to me, and they choose how far the shoot goes.
Now you're a bit different in that I chose you, but you still get to decide
how far we go" Jake said as he pointed to the laptop screen.
My eyes had stopped watering, as his words sank in, and I while I wasn't
exactly sure what he meant I at least felt like I had a little more control
over the situation then I did a few seconds before.
"I'm listening". Was all I said.
"It works like this, you tell me which category you're willing to do, based
on the categories on this screen, and I take care of the rest. After an
hour or so of taking photos, you get the amount of money next to the
category you had chosen. In your case, instead of getting the money, the
amount comes off what you owe me for the kitchen repair."
"What does the categories mean? What is Category #3 for fifty dollars?" I
asked, somewhat intrigued by the suggested arrangement.
"Ok, follow along because I only want to explain this once. There is three
parts to this. First, each number represents the minimum amount of clothes
you're willing to wear. Clothes are considered a top, a bottom, and
underwear. Shoes, socks, and other items like hats are just accessories
and don't count. If you were to choose category #3, it means you'd like to
wear some sort of shirt, some sort of pants or shorts, and some form of
underwear at all times during the photo shoot. Understand so far?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Good, now the second part to it all. Once you've chosen to do a photo
shoot there is no backing out and no questioning of any of my choices, and
I choose everything you wear. For example, you may choose category #2, and
I might decide to put you in a tight fitting swim shirt, speedos, swim cap,
and swim goggles. It has you wearing two articles of clothing which meets
category #2, but perhaps not as you expected. Do you understand?" Jake
asked.
I had no issues with wearing speedos since I wore them all the time for
diving, so if he thought he was going to scare with that example he was
wrong, but I understood what he was saying. "I get it."
"Finally, you will follow my instructions to the letter. Before every
shoot you will come in here and enter the bathroom," to which Jake pointed
to a small door in the corner of the room which was on the opposite side of
the stairs we had come down. "Once inside you'll take a shower and brush
your teeth. I don't care if you just took a shower or just brushed your
teeth before you came here, when you are here the first thing you'll do is
take a shower and brush your teeth without question. Next you'll leave
your clothes in the bathroom and you'll come out in just a towel. From
there you'll go to behind that privacy screen where you'll get dressed in
the outfit laid out for you. Once dressed, you will follow my every
instruction until the shoot is done. Then you will remove the clothes from
the shoot, get dressed and head home." Jake said as if it were just that
simple.
Looking at the laptop screen, I zeroed in on the categories after #2, "So
if #1 means just one piece of clothing, who chooses what article of
clothing it is?" I asked.
"Articles of clothes are removed from top to bottom, so as you work down
the category so do the clothes that are left out. So if you picked
category #1, then the top and bottoms would go away leaving just underwear,
or something like underwear."
I shook my head understanding his explanation. "So then, am I right to say
zero is naked?"
"Yes, and because I don't have all day to answer your inevitable questions,
category P is with a partner in which each of you is wearing some form of
clothing, category X is what I call simulated adult scenes also with a
partner but you're naked, and category XXX should be self-explanatory."
"Sex!" I shouted out like I had solved a puzzle.
Jake didn't answer, he just smiled at me and nodded.
"Ok, let's get started. Please go take a shower and brush your teeth."
Jake said as he spun around on the bar stool and grabbed on his cameras.
"What like now, right now?" I asked clearly not prepared for it as I was
still processing everything I had just learned.
"Yes, now. I didn't have you come over here to just talk about it. Let's
go, I have to be at a project by 1pm today."
I was at a loss for words, and subconsciously found myself heading toward
the bathroom as my head was working out if I was going to really do this.
Once inside I was blown away by the size. The bathroom had dual sinks on a
marble counter top in which an unopened tooth brush sat. The shower, that
could easily fit four, had two shower heads on each of the side walls with
on/off handles for each and a fifth shower head that was center of the
ceiling above. There was another door opposite the one I had come in that
appeared to open to the outside. Following my typical routine as I would
from home I brushed my teeth and then stripped down to take my shower.
Even though I was a bitter about feeling like I had no choice in all of
this, the little kid in me came out once I was inside the shower and I
giggled excitedly when I turned on all five shower heads at once. However
the fun was over quickly as I stepped out and wrapped the towel around me.
Now for some reason, even though I was quite used to walking around people
I didn't even know in nothing but a speedo, walking out to only Jake, had
me red as could be with embarrassment.
"Damn." Jake said as I shyly walked over to him.
"What?" I've done everything you said to do." I said, worried I had
missed something.
"Oh no, there's nothing wrong. You're just cutter than the first day I saw
you." He said, his eyes giving me a once over.
I could feel the warmth of my blushing, embarrassed from the
compliment. "Wait, you're a perv too?" I said shocked. For some reason I
saw Jake as just doing a job for money. His comment shattered that image.
"If noticing things that are beautiful makes me a perv, then a perv I am."
Jake said as he gave a shoulder shrug, like the degrading moniker meant
nothing to him.
I on the other hand, was certainly turning an even darker shade of red. No
one had ever called me beautiful, and I wasn't exactly sure how to process
it.
"So here it is Blake. Behind the privacy curtain over there is the outfit
I want you to put on. It will always be behind the curtain and you will
always put on everything that is behind the curtain regardless of what
category photo set you choose. Example, you may someday choose to do a
category zero photo set, but behind the curtain might be a full outfit as
if you were heading to the snow. You'd put on the full outfit without
question, and during the photo shoot we'd eventually remove all the
clothing. Understand?"
Was the blushing ever going to end? Here I was not but three feet from a
man who I barely knew, bare assed accept for the towel around my waist, and
he's talking about someday doing a naked photo shoot. I don't know why but
for some reason my dick twitched at the idea. "I get it." I said quietly.
"Ok, now typically the models I work with tell me the category shoot they'd
like to do a week in advance. But since I need to start recouping money
from you as soon as possible to cover the kitchen, there just isn't time."
His mention of recouping the money for the kitchen made me feel guilty all
over again.
"So, now for the uncomfortable truth Blake. You owe me about thirty
thousand dollars. And while I keep my word, in that I never force my
models to do anything they do not want to do, if you choose category #3 and
nothing else, and you come to my house almost every day, it will take you
almost two years to pay me back. I don't have two years Blake, and you
can't come here every day. I'm ok with whatever you choose today, but do
you understand what I'm saying?" Jake asked with what seemed like
compassion for the position I was in.
"I understand." I said trying to muster up the courage.
"Good, good. So what will it be for today?"
I took a nervous swallow, "Category #2."
"Great. Head on over and get changed." Jake said as he turned toward his
tray of cameras.
Behind the wooden folding screen, which was carved in an intricate Japanese
pattern, I found a small table that had a box numbered #1 on it. Opening
the box it was clear very quickly my first outfit was to be a soccer
uniform. The jersey was a white Adidas shirt with black trim in the
traditional three stripes. It had the number one on the back, in a solid
black color. After the jersey was the matching white shorts, trimmed with
the black stripes down the sides of each leg and the black Adidas logo. The
white soccer socks laid folded under the shorts, and next to the socks was
a pair of white fruit of the loom briefs. There was a sense of relief when
I saw the uniform as it was something familiar and comfortable to me in a
world that was changing around me in a flash. I snapped my head to each
side as I let the towel fall the floor, my dick bouncing as literally
jumped into the underwear. It had been seven years since the last time I
had put on a pair of y-front briefs, and this pair was perhaps one size too
small. I put the shorts and jersey on in seconds and slid on the socks,
pulling them up my calves as if I was ready to play a game. Part of me
half expected to see some soccer shoes to complete the outfit. The jersey
fit fine, but I had to tie the draw string on the shorts or they would
start to slide down.
"You about done back there." Jake asked, just as I walked around the
screen.
"Yep, all set." I said walking over to him.
"Perfect. Looks like everything fits."
As I approached Jake he grabbed a spray bottle of water and quickly
spritzed the front of my hair. This through me off for a second, especially
as his large hand gently styled the front. I keep my hair buzzed on the
sides and back with it just a little longer o top and in the front for
styling.
"Ok Blake go ahead and head out to the front of that green screen and will
get started." Jake said as he positioned his stool.
The screen was about eight foot wide and started at the ceiling and
traveled down to the floor. A similar screen was laying on the floor, and
on it was a traditional white and black patched soccer ball and a large red
and white 1 gallon water jug like the ones I took to my games. I stepped
next to the ball and turned to face Jake.
"So what do...?" I was about to ask what he wanted me to do, as the flash
from the lights and photo umbrellas went off. Before I could compose myself
to ask again the flash went off three more times.
"Some of my best shots were of models who didn't even know the camera was
on. That's when the photo is the best, when the model is sharing something
real, something pure. Not a fake smile because I asked you to say cheese.
Sure I'll tell you where to stand or sit, but you, you young Blake have to
add the emotion. You have to tell the story. Maybe you're nervous, or
scared, maybe you're happy, maybe you feel a little daring for showing some
flesh, maybe the last time you wore an outfit like this your grandparents
were charring for you on the sideline, and maybe that brings a smile to
your face, or maybe it makes you sad? Either way your emotions have to
come from you, not because I told you how to feel. Understand?" When Jake
mentioned my grandparents it made me think of the last time my grandma had
made it to one of my games, and how loud she charred.
"I think I get it." I said with a warm smile
"Just figure the camera is always on when you're over here, so you might as
well try and forget about it and just focus on how you're feeling in the
moment, and just let it come natural. Sound good?" Jake asked as he
switched lenses.
"Yep" I said.
"Then let's do this. Hands behind your head like you're winded from
running." Click, click, click." Went the digital shutter on the camera.
"Hands on your waste." Click, click, click.
Jake moved me into all sorts of positions. I was on one knee with the
ball, then on my back resting on my elbows with my feet flat on the ground
and my knees up, at one point I was pretending I was slide tackling an
opponent. It was actually quite fun. In between telling me where to stand
or move, Jake asked me all sort of questions about my family, my hobbies
like diving and such, and the upcoming school year where I was to be a
freshman at a new high school. I was so into our conversation I hadn't
heard his last request.
"What?" I asked.
"Shirt off please."
I looked at Jake, as the nervousness came back. I didn't question him, I
knew I agreed to this, and so I started to take the jersey off. Click,
click, click, the bright flash rang out as I pull the shirt off.
"Great, now fling it on your shoulder." Click, click.
My skin for the most part was blemish free, sure there was a tiny freckle
here and there but nothing that screamed out here I am. And while I didn't
have much body hair to begin with, what little hair I did have I shaved off
for diving. I didn't have to shave it off, it's just when you're part of a
swim team where the rest of your team, the swimmers, have to shave it off
for speed, you just kind of do it as a part of solidarity. But, if I'm
being honest I was just so excited to finally be old enough to have hair to
shave off and also kind of liked the way I looked with the bare chests and
legs. The chill of the room had my nipples at attention, and I was finding
it hard to hear Jake's questions anymore, as I started to think about what
I was really doing.
"What if my mom see's these?" I blurted out.
Jake didn't stop for a second, he just kept snapping photos as he answered
my question, "Your mom isn't going to see these. I sell them to a man who
sells them to modelling and web agencies in other countries. Sure some of
them are going to show up on the web, but nowhere your mom is going to go
looking."
"Go ahead and stick your thumbs into you your underwear hooking the waist
band of both the shorts and underwear, almost like you're pushing them
off." Jake said not waiting for me to process the information he just gave
me.
I found myself subconsciously following his instructions, as my thumbs
slightly pushed down on my underwear and shorts, exposing the area just
above my little dusting of pubic hair.
"Do you know what websites they go to?" I asked as he took picture after
picture.
"Nope. Now turn and pretend like you're about to moon me."
I spun and grabbed the waist band of the shorts and briefs and started to
pull them down until just beginning of my crack could be seen. I looked
over my shoulder to continue my conversation.
"You've never asked?"
"Never really concerned me. Go ahead turn and grab the water jug."
"You're not curious? I asked, again doing as he said while my mind was a
million miles away.
"Why would I need to go looking for my photos when I have them right here?
Go ahead and let the draw string loose on your shorts." Jake instructed.
With one hand I pulled the draw string on the soccer short releasing the
knot as they slipped a bit down, revealing the waist band of the fruit of
the looms.
"I guess that's true, I just thought you'd want to know what people were
doing with your photos." I said, now looking at him puzzled that he didn't
seem to care, when just 40 minutes earlier he seemed so passionate about
his work.
"I love taking photos. I love working with gorgeous models like you, and
that's all I need. Searching the web for my own photos just seemed like a
waste of time. Go ahead and unscrew the cap to the water jug."
As I unscrewed the lid to the large red jug, it suddenly occurred to me
what might be coming next as the water and ice swirled around. I gave a
funny look to Jake as he snagged another unexpected photo.
"I think you know what's coming next Blake. Go ahead and dump the water on
top of your head." He said with a smirk.
I slowly positioned the bottle above my head, holding it with both hands,
as Jake got closer snapping photo after photo. I cringed as I turned the
jug over and the ice water came crashing down. The cold water made me yelp
as it shocked my skin. There was so much water that it cascaded down both
my front and back, which was enough to pull my shorts even further down,
only stopping because they were now clinging to my thighs as the shorts
were soaked beyond belief.
"Huh, huh, damn that's co..cold." I said through chattering teeth.
Jake just kept shooting photos as I started to realize how far down the
soccer shorts had slipped. The fruit of the looms that were covering my
dick were soaking wet as well and now almost see through and clinging to my
skin, leaving very little to the imagination of the three inch bulge I had
spent most of my life concealing.
"Hey." I said giving him a dirty look as I quickly spun around to pull the
shorts up.
Jake kept taking photos after I had spun, "No worries, you're beautiful
that way too."
I snapped my head over my shoulder, struggling to pull the wet nylon shorts
up my legs, as I gave Jake another dirty look.
"See, that right there, that's real emotion." He said never taking his eye
from the camera as it whirled off photos.
"Yeah pissed emotion. You tricked me. You knew these short were going to
slide down." I said turning to face him.
Jake stopped taking photos and looked at me with a serious face, "If you
haven't figured it out yet, let me fill you in on something Blake. You're
a beautiful boy without question, but that ass of yours is sinful. You
don't know it yet, but it will make people do whatever you want. It's
already paying for a thirty thousand dollar kitchen." Jake said as he
smiled a wicked smile.
I bit my lip as I thought about what Jake said and what my ass looked like
in the wet shorts and underwear. It was then that I felt the blood rushing
to my dick. Jake noticed my sudden predicament and chuckled a bit, my hands
now holding the shorts up and also covering my ever expanding crotch.
"We're done Blake. You can go change. Please leave the clothes where you
found them." Jake said, as he handed me the jersey as I scurried off to
the screen, trying not to slip on the tile floor in my wet socks.
By the time I had reached the privacy screen my 5-1/2"s of teen cock was at
full attention, and cold water be damned it wasn't going away. I removed
the wet clothes and did my best to use the towel to pin my hard dick
against my abdomen as I shuffled to the bathroom. I used the towel to dry
myself off and slid my boxer briefs up and over my still stiff cock. Every
time I thought it was starting to subside, I thought about Jake and his
comments about my butt and my prick regained its rigidity. I was
definitely regretting I didn't wear something looser than the jeans I had
picked. After five minutes of willing my prick to go down, I just gave up
and conceded I needed to take the bull by the horns as they say, or in the
case the hard cock in the hand. I squeezed a drop of body wash from the
shower into my hand and then turned and faced the toilet with my briefs and
jeans around my ankles.
"Uhhhh, mmmm, ohhhhh, yesssssss, shit." I quietly mumbled as it took only a
few minutes to pump a hefty load into the toilet, while I imagined Jake
rubbing his hands on my ass.
"Everything ok in there?" Jake asked through the bathroom door.
"Yeah sorry, I'll be right out." I said as a large drop of cum dripped
from my hand into the toilet. I quickly stuffed my deflating chub into my
briefs and jeans and threw on my white shirt as I walked out with my shoes
and socks in hand. I headed over to Jake who was looking at his laptop as
I walked up.
"Not bad right?" He said as I looked at the laptop and saw a photo of me
standing in the white soccer uniform on what looked like an artificial
soccer field with an out of focus image of a soccer goal in the background.
The picture was amazing. It looked very professional, better than anything
I had ever taken for the real soccer teams I had played on. "How did you do
that?"
"Easy, the green screen allows me to drop in the backgrounds and then over
time I've gotten a fill for working in shadows and light to make it look
like you're physically standing in the middle of the soccer field.
Sometimes it's best to do it this way, while sometimes I want just the
model to be the focus and the screen behind them will stay white or a
contrasting solid color. Sometimes you just have to go into nature if you
want it look real. It's easy to use an artificial soccer field that never
changes, but it's hard to recreate the ever changing complexity of real
nature. A good example is like a beach and the ocean waves, where the
light and shadows are always changing, you can't fake that from just a
single stock photo, if you're looking to take more than one shot."
"Well whatever you did it looks cool." I said, my feelings for Jake and
his craft having swung one hundred and eighty degrees from my initial
stance when he first explained to me how things would go.
"Thanks, it's pretty easy when your model is as cute as you are." Jake
said as he gave me a light slap on the ass. Had I not just unloaded, my
cock would have certainly sprung to attention as his hand slapped my ass.
"So, now it's time to discuss the small details of our working arrangement.
While you're on summer break for the next couple weeks we can schedule a
couple sessions a week. They'll have to be around the lunch period so I
can make it work with my schedule, but it should work fine. Once school
starts we'll see how it goes for you, but we'll probably keep it to the
weekends. Sound good?"
"Makes sense."
"I'll let you handle your mom. Obviously it's best for everyone if she
thinks you're doing yard work. So if she's home when you get home, then
she'll be expecting a kid who looks like he's done some sweating. Even if
she's not home, but she does the laundry, she'll be expecting clothes that
look like you've been working with grass and dirt. Maybe on your way home
you can find a park and roll around on the grass or something, whatever it
takes. Today you can tell her I walked you around, and that I expect you
back tomorrow to start the actual work. If she asks."
"So we're doing another session tomorrow?" I asked unable to hide the bit
of excitement in my voice.
"I knew you'd like it. A lot easier than actual yard work, right?" Jake
said smiling.
I was smiling too as I nodded yes, as it was pretty easy, and while I still
wasn't a hundred percent comfortable with it, there was something or
someone that turned me on about it.
"So what category will it be tomorrow?" Jake asked showing the laptop with
the category options, but now it showed my new balance after deducting the
money I earned from my first photo shoot.
Hudson Photography
BLAKE PATTERSON
CATEGORY #3 $50 Owed = $30,000
CATEGORY #2 $150 Photo Shoot #1= <-$150>
CATEGORY #1 $250 Balance = $29,850
CATEGORY #0 $500
CATEGORY P# $1,000
CATEGORY X $1,500
CATEGORY XXX $2,000
For some reason, I felt a sense of pride in seeing what I owed Jake had
come down. So much so I felt a little bold, as I took a deep breath and
looked at Jake, "Category #1."