Date: Thu, 14 Oct 2010 22:51:13 -0600
From: dnrock@rock.com
Subject: Jonathan and Cory 1

I hope everyone enjoys this tale.  It has all the usual cautions and
cavities.  If you are under some legal age you should not continue and
leave now.  Sorry about that but I don't make the rules for anyone, other
then myself and my characters.  If you are offended by: sex, passion,
physical and emotional love or just the freedom to read and think what you
want, you will be offended.  If you have a problem with men and boys, boys
and boys, man and men, men and boy and women and girls having sex, I assure
you of that.  Some of this story is pure fiction some not.  If you can't
always tell the difference, I have done my job well.  The protagonists all
live in my head and on my hard drive.  Please remember they are not real
people and not modeled after any that I am aware of.  Some will find the
level and detail of the sex inadequate, others to much and still others
about right.  I do try and achieve a balance.  Please enjoy.



Jonathan And Cory
By: dnrock(dnrock@rock.com)



1: Preamble and Introduction

Jonathan had always been a loan wolf.  Now at 31 he was wondering if his
singular life style was really all that good a thing.  Many of his lovers
had thought him lacking in commitment.  That is not the case, Jonathan had
more commitment in him then any of them.  He was just not committed to any
of them.  Jonathan is gay, he is committed to that.  Perhaps committed is
not exactly the correct term here.  He had always been gay from the time he
became aware of gender differences, in the real sense of that.

He figures it was about 5 or perhaps 6, when he started school.  In those
days he was more girl than boy in his physical presence.  He knew or he
will tell you he knew, he was a boy and it was only boys he was interested
in being with.  Sure he had six older sisters and sure they were girls but
they were his sisters, older, bossy sisters.  His mom was a female, a girl,
in his terminology of the day but she was mom.  Jonathan doted on his dad.
Dad walked on water.  Dad could do or say no wrong.  Dad is a boy like him.
Dad would let John shower with him.  Dad would let him lay naked in bed and
snuggled under the covers with him.  Dad would take him places and dad did.
Dad talked about boy things.  Dad did boy things.

By this time in Jonathan's life dad was almost 40.  Jonathan looked like
dad had as a boy.  Dad was average in height.  Light brown hair when he was
young and had some.  Dad was smooth skinned and compared to other men, very
girl like from Jonathan's young point of view.  Dad had almost no hair on
his body.  He was a school principal and coached sports like gymnastics and
swimming.  All of his sisters did those things and he did too.  Dad would
take him everywhere he went.  When Jonathan was in grade school, dad would
take him every Sunday morning to his fitness club, while mom and sisters
went to church.  Dad told him, when he asked, why they did not worship god,
"we do son, we worship the real god of maleness, of our bodies".  Jonathan
liked the gym, he could be naked and he could run free.  All the boys and
men in the gym were naked on Sunday morning.

Dad is bisexual and a bottom to end all bottoms and he spent most of those
mornings getting fucked.  One of his dad's friends had the biggest and
longest cock, Jonathan has to this day seen.  That man was his dad's best
friend and most frequent male fuck partner.  All the men and boys liked
Jonathan and many would kiss and fondle him, that was all any of them ever
did with him in those days.  Dad saw that Jonathan had the sexiest,
briefest little shorts and swimsuits imaginable, for those times they were
required.  Jonathan learned everything one needs to know about the
mechanics of male/male sex.  Dad had recognized Jonathan as gay even at
that early age.  He made sure the boy was conformable with who he is and
the way he is.

Jonathan, at age 14 was attending the Sunday morning get together, mostly
on his own; dad was not at all well and many of the other older men no
longer came.  Dad had always protected him and he still did, as best he
could.  All through Junior high and high-school, dad made sure the boys,
John and his buddies, had a safe place to play in the garage, with no girls
allowed.  Jonathan wanted it that way.  John was sensitive to the feelings
of other people and he quickly realized, no matter how much he wanted his
sisters' boyfriends or his brother-in-laws they were hands off.  He had a
steady string of boyfriends right through college but none stuck.

One swimming coach and two gymnastics coaches had his ass on many occasions
too.  John was willing to fuck, he sure did suck, but he was most fond of
being fucked.  His homosexuality was never questioned, it was simply
accepted by his family and friends.  He was accepted and even indulged by
his class mates, probably because of his athletic accomplishments and self
confidence, he knew who he was.  John suffered a bit from the local bullies
in those day too.  All of the gay boys did.  After a couple of years in a
marshall arts program, he put a quick end to that crap for himself and his
friends.

In high school and university John discovered girls.  Okay, he didn't
discover them like a scientific eureka moment.  No, it was much more subtle
than that.  He discovered they could be much more than friends to laugh and
joke with, they could and would fuck.  John had also discovered that
fucking boys was as much fun as being fucked.  He had begun the transition
from bottom to versatile.  Now he found fucking a girl produced the same
wonderful feelings as fucking a boy, except for how tight a pussy is
compared to an anus.  Aside from that John found himself firmly in the
bisexual camp, when it came to pleasure.  He still had little or no strong
desire to form romantic relationships with girls or boys for that matter.

The only questions anyone ever asked him, why, given his fine arts degree
and obvious creativity, he became a porn and male fashion photographer.
John's answer was simple, he likes photographing naked bodies and it sure
as hell paid well, until he at least established his more general
reputation.  He did other types of photography.  While his non porn was
well received and often acclaimed, it did not pay all that well.  He
established a good reputation for photographing sports such as: gymnastics,
swimming and diving.  He had many flings with his subjects.  Not all of
them are into boys and some are like him, mostly bottoms.  Professionalism
was always more important to him then long term relationships.  Friendships
yes, get together for long, hard fucks and traveling companionship, yes.  A
steady, dedicated lover, no.

John often took pictures of young boys and girls.  He did a good job at
that.  He was kind, friendly and very much stimulated by the boys anyway.
He would not act on it.  They were clients and not adults.  Look,
photograph, don't touch in a sexual way.  It was obvious to him, many of
these boys were like he had been, ready, willing and able.  It was him that
was not.  Not until one day, at age 31 and a week, that is.  Some how
Jonathan was overwhelmed.  His defenses were down for a brief moment and
his heart was captured.  How did this happen?  What would it mean?


1a: The Plot

John came out on his balcony.  He was naked, as is his preferred condition.
At 31 he is still quite fit, retaining his swimmer-gymnast's physique and
flexibility.  He keeps his body shaved clean, not that he had much hair
anyway.  Having shaved genitals makes his 7 inches look longer, for those
times he struts his naked stuff.  The late spring air was warm and the sun
bright.  Having just finished a short but intense workout, on his old
Nordic Track.  He picked up a club soda on ice and stood admiring the
soundings.  His balcony faces east, overlooking the city and river valley,
nothing is blocking his view.  He strode around half hard, doing a few
stretches and some isometrics, warming down.

Something caught his eye.  He looked again, a glint.  The glint of a long
lens or perhaps a telescope.  He strained his perfect vision but could
not....there it was again, on a roof top several blocks away.  Someone was
watching him.  He was pleased at first.  John likes to be noticed and his
body is noticeable.  Were he not behind the lens he would have little
difficulty before it.  Not that he is so much an exhibitionist, he does
like being the center of attention.

"Hold on," he thought and muttered, "I'm not sure I like to be viewed this
way.  By a telescope or what ever."

He quickly went into his apartment returning with his 500 mm telephoto on
an old film camera body.  Inspecting the suspect location he could see a
person, a boy, he was not sure of the age, looking through a refractor
telescope, aimed at him.  The boy looked up with a start.  He was now being
watched.

John put the camera down and raised his hands laughing.  The boy bent over
again to see what John was doing.  John held up his right hand, palm out,
raising one finger.  He held that position for a few seconds and retreated
into the apartment, returning with a large cardboard and black marker.  In
big letters he wrote his phone number and held it up.  When he judged long
enough he set the cardboard down and picked up the camera.  The boy was
getting his cell phone out.  He appeared to be blondish and dressed only in
a skimpy speedo.  John could see the roof top had a small sun shade and a
wooden deck with some chairs and potted plants on it.  John's Beethoven's
Fifth ring tone sounded.  "John Cuttler here".

"Um, ah, hi, um I, the one using the telescope, um..."

John laughed.  "I'm the one being spied on.  That's cool I don't mind.
Like what you see," he said?

"Um, ah yes.  You are way buff.  I didn't mean to spy, I...I was looking
through this thing and just saw you.  Wow are you buff, I mean you look
like, like..."

"One of those internet models on the over 18 sites," John said.

"Ya like that, only better."

"You don't look or sound old enough to know, however," John jumped in.

"I uh, I'm 13, got this telescope for Christmas.  Are you always so, um
big, you know between your legs?"

John laughed and grasped his meat, giving it a couple of tugs, "I wish and
so do my friends.  No, just when I finished a workout and get to talk to
sexy boys on the phone."

John was feeling a little out of practice, not having any sex partners for
a couple of weeks.  He had began using a small prostrate stimulator while
he did the Nordic Track bit.  Not only does that keep him stretched but it
sets his motor running almost as much as talking to sexy young boys, well
sexy boys of any age.

"By the way what is your name, I told you mine?"

"It is Cory Wright.  Got a pen? my cell number is......  I got to go now,
my mom wants me but maybe we can talk some later?"

"I would like that Cory.  I will be home this evening, so feel free to call
any time."

John put his stuff away, refilled his glass and sat naked in the afternoon
shade.  He wondered if the boy would call back.  He wondered why he
wondered and with every twitch of his erection, he had the answer.  It was
just that, he was not sure it was the one he wanted.  Now that he traveled
so much, he no longer attended the Sunday meetings at the gym.  He no
longer had access to naked boys.  Not that any of the men ever had sex with
the under aged boys at the gym.  Not that he never had boys before.  Not
that he didn't almost prefer boys to the self centered men in his age
group.  He did and he wanted more of it.  This was a minor
ethical/moral/legal question he chose to ignore.

Several of his recent jobs had young men, that looked two or three years
younger then their 18 years.  He like fucking them and being fucked by
them.  He liked being fucked more than fucking anyway and these lads were
experienced, skilled and hung, some better than him.  His ass was twitching
just thinking about it.  John went into the bedroom.  Spread a large towel
on the bed, put one of his recent shoots into the DVD player, greased up a
big vibrating dildo and shoved it into his, oh so vacant, ass.  "Beating
you meat is okay, not as good as the real thing but okay," and when he
ejaculated it was, "just fine thank you".  He sure hoped Cory had enough
between his legs to keep him happy, for a little while anyway.  "Now that
was jumping the gun wasn't it," he thought?

His memory drifted back to that time in his own life.  The time of being 13
and requiring several orgasms a day just to keep sane.  How he seduced all
of his supposedly straight buddies into fucking him.  Still sees some of
them from time to time.  All married with kids now, that does not mean they
are unwilling to fuck his butt.  A couple are willing to get fucked too.
Lester was the other gay kid in the group.  He was a funny one, never liked
the other boys, he wanted men, older men, still does.  He never said but
John always thought, Lester had been getting fucked for some time by either
his dad or his uncle, maybe both.  He guessed if you get accustomed to a
man at 11 or 12 no boy is going to satisfy you.

He drifted off into a brief power nap.  One of those instant REM sleep
modes, filled with wild dreams, sexual dreams, dreams of lust, wild and
irrational lust.  He woke with a start.  Something invaded his blissful
dream state.  It was his ring tone.  "John Cuttler at your service."

"John, it's Kevin, I just want to tell you, the shoot for tomorrow is
canceled.  The model is sick.  Are you coming in to the studio then?"

"I'm not sure Kev, do you need me?"

"Between my legs but not for business," Kevin chuckled.  "I can handle the
mail and telephones."

"Okay, I will sleep in and maybe head for the beach in the afternoon.  Care
to come?"

"Would love to, however to much other stuff going on here."

Okay, you know how to reach me."

Kevin is John's office manager.  John and Kevin, a business major he met at
school, formed a cooperative office sharing group.  The group shares
Kevin's services, switchboard, reception room, main studio space, computing
power and the like.  The others in the group are a graphic artist named
Kimberley, a small web design group and a wedding photographic group.
Kevin provides all the bookkeeping and other business services.  The place
is located in one of those light industrial, two story strip complexes,
just off the expressway.

No sooner had that call ended then one of his agents phoned.  Leah Johnson
is a middle aged business woman with no children.  She had been a model in
her younger days.  Leah, gets many of his porn and fashion assignments and
provides the models when required.  He has another agent for fine art and
other types of photography, such as advertising.  John saw her name and
number flash up on the screen.  John's relationship with Leah is all
business; she is good at what she does and keeps him reasonably busy.  He
answered.  "Leah, how nice to hear your voice."

"Cut the crap Jonathan, did Kevin call you?"

"Yes, he told me the model is sick and tomorrow is canceled."

"Right, the bitch has PMS and at 22, I don't believe it.  Can we reschedule
for the day after tomorrow?"

"If the studio is open, I am available."

"Kevin had it open from 10 to 3:30.  I told him to put us down, that should
be enough time."

"Okay, I'll look for your smiling face around 9:30, day after tomorrow."

Leah was pissed, he knew she would be.  As long as the set up was easy and
the model professional, she was correct, it should be more than enough
time.

"God am I glad I am a man," John thought, "at least I don't need to put up
with minstrel cycles."

John had grown up with seven of them, he sure as hell knew what that was
all about.  "If you live with a woman she feels compelled to share such
things with all around her.  It isn't her cycle, it becomes our cycle.  How
the hell did dad ever survive it," he wondered?

John put on another of his porn flicks while he made his dinner.  He likes
watching his work, most of the time.  It is only the ones he sees errors in
or where improvements could be made, that he dislikes.  He is not fond of
the work by many others, those that do not meet his quality standards.
John does have shall we say a bit of an ego.  He has earned it through,

"Cooking for one is the pits," he thought.  John began working after his
dinner was eaten and cleaned up.  Now that everything is digital, it is
Photoshop not the darkroom, that matters.

He was just completing a series called Boy On Top.  This was a new 18 year
old model who was performing on a table top.  The young man was small in
stature, with a fine body, a great smile and penetrating hazel eyes.  He
was graceful with a good camera presence.  John was sure this lad would do
well and be in demand.  Once the series was delivered he could post a few
of the non pornographic images to his web site.  Most of his clients
appreciated that.  It was another way of advertising for them.  One that
did not cost anything.

Jonathan the Photographer or JPT.com was what he called himself.  His site
has three components: His sales catalogue for the art and stock image part;
the models, studios and magazines he shot for and an adult only, by
subscription section, with nudes and porn he both shot and produced.  His
videography and still series, done for others, was listed in his resume and
client list.  Those would need be viewed or purchased from the production
house that commissioned them.  One of his clients was the largest and
probably the best porn studios in Europe.  For them he was mostly doing
stills and promotion shots.  The videography was always a different
photographer, mostly staffers.  Much of their still work was also by
staffers.  John filled in as needed.  He did not mind flying half way
around the world to take pictures of gorges boys and men. (read that 18 and
slightly older men) That studio's philosophy and standards were close to
his and they gave him great creative freedom.

His work is often reviewed on many of the boy blogs.  He did not spend much
time looking at the reviews, his agent had people to do that, several of
them ran blogs too.  He found the blogs a good place to see what other
photographers were doing.  Ideas and techniques are always valuable to
creative people.  Eye candy, is eye candy.

Beethoven's Fifth sounded.  John looked at the clock, "my god it is already
10 pm.  Who would call so late?"

"Hi John," Cory's bright voice bubbled out of the speaker, "I hope it is
not to late, you remember me don't you?"

"Of course I remember you Cory, it is not every day I get perved via a
telescope."  Cory giggled.

"Are you Jonathan the Photographer?"

"Yes, that's me, my friends call me John but you can call we anything you
want except Mr. Cuttler, he is my father."

"You mean your Principal Cuttler's son?"

"That's me too.  How do you know my father, oh you must attend Westford
Middle School."

"Yes, he is the Principal of Westford High, just across the playing field.
I see from your picture that you look a lot like him."

"Well thank you Cory.  I think my dad is the best dad in the world, but I'm
better looking, got my mom's eyes and hair color."

"Could have fooled me on the hair color."  John senior has no hair left,
bald as a billiard ball.  This time John laughed.

"I just Googled your name and hunted through the sites until I saw your
picture.  You are better looking then most of the models on your page, well
the boys anyway.  You sure have lots of them.  Your bio said you were a
high-school and university champion in swimming, diving and gymnastics."

"Junior high too.  Have a look in the trophy case when school starts in the
fall.  You will be in what, grade 9?"

"Yep, I will."

"Okay, you know a lot about me but what about you?"

"I don't know what to add that you don't already know.  My face book page
is....  I like sports but don't get to do much.  My mom gave me a bike but
she won't let me ride it very far alone.  Let me see, I like to swim and
love the beach but..."

"Do you have a Skype address?"

"Sure my address is Cory-Wright2."  John typed it in, and in a second Cory
sent back his acceptance and the bell sounded.  John answered and up came
the lads picture.  They both hung up the phones.

"Wow you are better looking on Skype then on your web page."

"And you are better looking on Skype then on your Face Book shot."

John was sitting at his desk.  He was still naked but his MacBook Pro
camera only showed his upper body.  His massive shoulders and pecks were
clearly shown along with those penetrating blue eyes and his killer smile.

"Man you don't look 30.  You look like your still in high-school."

"Well my boy, looks can deceive sometimes.  I don't look quite that young."

Cory was sitting in his room which was partly shown in the background.  It
looked like a typical boy's room, full of models, sports equipment, the new
telescope and just stuff.  Cory's light brown hair needed to be cut.  John
immediately began figuring out how to make him up for a photo shoot.  He
had on a bright red Tee shirt and John assumed shorts.  His eyes are wide
set, blue as a lake, his lips naturally red and full, his mouth bow shaped
and his smile was permanently fixed to his face.  They chatted a while not
saying all that much of importance.  One thing Cory did say was, he had few
friends that lived near by and no one to do stuff with during the summer.
He also told John his dad was dead.

"I have the day off tomorrow.  The model got sick.  Can you ride your bike
to the park that is just down the street from your building?"

"Sure I can do that, why?"

"I will ride over and maybe we can hang out a while and even get down to
the beach."

"Sure that would be cool."

"About 9:30 over by the swings."

They talked for a long time about teen music and visual arts.  Cory told
him how much he loved science and John got deep into lenses.  It was quite
late when they closed off for sleep.  This little conversation had set both
of them off.  For Cory it fired up feelings and emotion he had not
experienced before.  The boy pulled off his briefs and using them to help
clean up, pounded his erection until he spilled and joined Morpheus.  John
was more adult about it.  He too was stimulated.  He knew these emotions
and feeling well.  To well perhaps.  His lust was also great but his
masturbation more pedestrian.  It too achieved the same calming effect.

...................

Look for chapter 2 in about a week.  If you like this story and have not
read many or any of many of my other stories, see DnRock in the Stories by
Prolific Net Authors, under Information for Readers, on the Intro Page.