Date: Tue, 25 May 1999 12:41:57 EDT
From: WminVA@aol.com
Subject: Todd's Summer Job

This is my first submission. Because this is a true story, and because real
life doesn't tend to play out like most porno films (or at least not for
me), you will have to wait patiently (like I did) for the really juicy
parts.  But meanwhile, please let me know what you think!

_____________________________

Todd's Summer Job

I first saw him out of the corner of my eye as I drove down a road near my
home. I was in a rush to get somewhere, but I can't, for the life of me,
remember where.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. I had looked at
this particular house a million times because I drive this way often and
admire its Victorian detailing. But this was the first time I had ever seen
anybody in the yard. And this was definitely the first time I had ever seen
this young guy!

He was cutting the grass, and in that instant all I saw was the most
amazing shirtless teen chest that I had seen in a very long time. Before I
could get more than a glance, I was past the house and out of range. I had
no choice but to take the first right and circle the block to catch another
glimpse...this time a little slower!  The whole way around the block I
hoped to myself that he would still be out there.  And that if he was, that
he would be pushing the mower towards the street so I could get another
glimpse of that chest. I'm sure the rear view would have been nice
too...but I'm a chest man.

As I completed my lap and pulled back onto the main road, I proceeded at a
slower rate; but, hopefully, not slow enough to look suspicious. I peered
through the passenger window as I approached the second house...his
house. Just as the yard came into view, he emerged from the shadows of a
large oak pushing the mower.  This time I got a much better view. He was
stunning.

Like last time...the first thing I noticed was that chest. So nicely built
for a teenager. Not bodybuilder, steroid-built...just extremely nicely
shaped and impressive for his age. And the tan didn't hurt either. It was
early in the spring, but already he was a deep bronze color. He obviously
spent a lot of time outdoors and shirtless. (So why hadn't I seen him
before??) His chest lead to a nice flat stomach (cleaved slightly in the
middle, just like his chest) which dissapeared into a pair a khaki cargo
shorts hanging loosely around his waist...exposing just the slightest bit
of the waistband of his underwear. His skin glistened with a light coating
of sweat that accentuated every detail of his well-carved torso. I was
instantly aroused.

The next thing I noticed was his hair. This kid had some big curly hair! At
first the hair was a shocker. It kind of looked like he had stepped out of
the seventies. Then I realized that the hair was somehow part of what was
making the whole package so sexy.

Let's talk about curly-haired guys for a second...because I'd like to know
if anybody agrees with my theory; or if I'm just nuts. I think there is a
correlation between curly hair and chest structure. Guys with really curly
hair seem to have the same kind of chests...firm, flat, squared off, and
well defined. The ridge from stomach to chest is well defined and generally
forms a 90 degree angle, making the pecs perfectly shaped plateaus. Guys
with curly hair also tend to have tight nipples.  During the teen years
each nipple seems to move to the outside of the pecs as the muscles grow,
swell, and develop. A great example, for anybody old enough to remember
him, was Willie Aames. He had the typical curly-haired-guy chest. And so
did this kid mowing the lawn.

By this time I was past the house and out of time. I wanted to take another
lap. In fact, I wanted to drive up in his front yard and jump his young
bones...but I really had to get wherever it was that I was headed.

After that day, I drove by this house daily...more slowly than I used
to...hoping for a peek of my new eye candy. But I never saw him. I watched
the length of the grass, trying to determine when the next cut...and
show..might occur. And I also considered the very real possibility that the
kid didn't even live there. Maybe he was just there to cut the
grass...maybe even just that one time. Maybe I had seen the last of him.

One morning I had to be at the studio earlier than usual for a photo
shoot. (I've been a commercial photographer for four years now since
graduating from college.) I turned the corner after the Victorian and
headed down the hill. And there he sat...at the bottom of the hill, with a
backpack by his feet. He was obviously waiting for the school bus...and he
was all alone. I recognized him immediately by that wild mass of dirty
blonde, curly hair. He had on a t-shirt and shorts and sat with his legs
pulled up in front of him and his hands locked around his knees. Because I
had to stop at the stop sign directly across the narrow street from him, I
had a good chance to get a better look at him. He appeared to be about 15,
deeply tanned, and totally disinterested in my presence. When I could sit
at the sign no longer without attracting attention (there were no other
cars in sight) I proceeded on my way, catching one last glimpse of him in
the rear view mirror.

I noted the time. It was exactly 7:45 a.m. I decided then and there that I
would be going into the studio a little earlier than usual from now!

The next morning, I arrived at the bus stop just as he was walking up. He
wore a thin white t-shirt that clung to him as he moved through the
breeze. The thin cloth accentuated the square, almost architectural
structure of his impressive young chest.  There were tell-tale traces of
his nipples. He really was beautiful. Probably about 5'10" tall and around
135 pounds, I would guess. I found myself thinking that the girls in his
high school must really have the hots for this one. Then I reminded myself
that there were probably a fair share of guys drooling over this package as
well.

Every morning he was alone at the bus stop. And every morning I would try
to soak in enough detail to last me through the day; and fuel my fantasies
that night.

About two weeks later a female friend and I met for dinner at our
neighborhood Italian restaurant. The place was jammed as usual, and the
food was typically mediocre. But paying our bill turned out to be
heavenly. As I approached the register with my check and cash in hand, I
saw him. The manager was at the counter and the boy was sliding what
appeared to be a job application toward him.

"I'll give you a call if anything opens up, son. But you're really a
little late to be looking for a summer job," the manager said, taking
the application.

"All right, well thanks," the kid said and left the restaurant.

I fumbled with my cash, distracted by trying to watch the kid as he walked
down the sidewalk outside of the window. I settled up and hastily said my
good-byes to my friend. She gave me a weird look as she walked across the
parking lot to her car. I guess it was kind of obvious that something had
grabbed my attention, and it wasn't her.

The kid was sitting on the curb about two stores down. Was he waiting for a
ride?  Well, I figured this was my chance to make contact, so I acted
quickly.

When I reached his side I said, "I overheard you trying to get a summer
job at "Ben's."

His hair flopped back loosely as he looked up at me.

"Yeah, but he says he doesn't need anybody."

"Well, I don't know if you're interested, but I've been looking for
somebody to help me out during the summer." (Actually, I had toyed with
the idea of getting an intern. But now I was suddenly preferring the idea
of "toying with an intern!")

"Oh yeah?" he asked. "Doing what."

"Well I'm a commercial photographer and I share studio space with two
other guys over on Palmer. I could use an assistant. Mainly lots of grunt
work...hauling equipment, building sets, running errands...that kind of
stuff." My heart about jumped to my mouth when I saw the look of
excitement on his face.

"Man, that sounds cool! Would beat the heck outta serving up Ben's
slop!"

"Well, here's my card," I said. "Can you stop by the studio Monday
afternoon so we can talk about it?"

"Sure!" he said. "I just got my license last week. So I can borrow
my mom's car and be there around 4:00. We just live up the street from
here."

I tried to act like I didn't already know that. "All right. Well I'll
see you on Monday." And then as an afterthought..."What's your name,
by the way?"

"Todd" he said extending his hand.

"I'm Rick. Good to meet you," I said. He had a nice firm handshake.  His
forearm muscles swelled as he gripped my hand. He was wearing a button
front shirt that draped him haphazardly. With the top three buttons undone,
him sitting, and me standing, I caught an enticing glimpse of his chest.
For what seemed like an eternity I focused on the line that traced down
between his pecs...and lead to places I could only dream of right now. Then
we released our handshake, said our good-byes, and parted company.

My heart raced as I got in my car and drove away. This kid was coming to my
studio on Monday. I tried to reign in my fantasies. After all, if he had
just gotten his license, that means he was only 16. And in my state that's
jailbait.

But still!  I hear the food in jail isn't all that bad!

(to be cont'd)