Date: Sat, 11 Dec 2004 20:33:12 +0000 (GMT)
From: roy p...... <sunbeamtb@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: The Photographer's Jackpot

Just a quickie(!) about a man's fall into the comfortably
profitable world of pornography. He doesn't know it yet, but
it will make him rich enough to live a more luxurious life
than he'd ever dreamt would come his way. In five years
time, his two favourite models will join his business (one
as sales and promotion manager, the other as his I.T.
manager), and his life as live-in houseboys. By then, if
you've ever read a gay magazine, or surfed that area of the
internet, you've seen his work. This is how it all started.

                 The Photographer's Jackpot.

I'm a photographer. Not a particularly good one, but I
almost make a living out of it. If I'm careful. And lucky. I
have a studio in the front of my house, well it was a corner
shop converted from the end one of a row of terraced houses,
and I use the old shop part as the studio and workshop, and
live in the back room (my lounge) and the upstairs rooms
(two bedrooms, one used as a storeroom, and the bathroom.)
They were probably nice houses in 1880, but they're a bit
past their use by date now. As is the whole district. The
good thing is that Victorians always had a nice park in
their suburbs, and when they built this worker's paradise,
they put the park just over the road. I go there a lot in
the summer, it is an oasis of green in this grim northern
town.

I usually take a couple of cameras with me, sometimes I
photograph the flowers, or the wildlife (a squirrel), or the
boys playing football. Boys. That's my other interest,
although I wasn't very good at getting them to be interested
in me when I was one of them, so I've always been a bit of a
loner. Not out of choice, you understand, but I never did
wake up with that interest in the opposite sex that my peer
group all did as the years passed. Nor was it acceptable in
working class Lancashire at that time to have an interest in
the same sex. O.K, I can sell the boys pictures of
themselves scoring 'the winning goal at the Wembley Cup
Final', despite the jumpers for goalposts. At 50p a time,
it's only a drop in my ocean sized overdraft, but I get to
keep a copy too.

One evening I'd gone out hoping for a red cloud sunset, but
something else attracted the attention of my camera. Two
lads, about 15 years old I'd say, having a kick-about on the
grass. I could tell they weren't much into football, they
weren't from the usual gangs of kids who ran wildly about
blatantly fouling their opponents to get the ball and kick
it hard between the jumper goalposts. They were just kicking
it to and fro between themselves and seeming to have a
conversation whenever they were close enough together. They
were so engrossed in their own world they both jumped when I
approached and said "Take your photographs, lads? Only 50
pence a copy!" and proffered one of my business cards.  "Oh!
O.K, that'd be nice!" one said, and they turned to face me
and posed, one with his arm on the other's shoulder, he then
put his arm round the first's back. Not what I'd expected at
all! One had dark brown hair, and was wearing dark blue
jeans with a matching denim jacket, the other was golden
blond, wearing lighter faded jeans and a blue lightweight
jacket. They weren't particularly 'beautiful', but I
wouldn't kick either out of -- not that I'd ever get the
chance, or even try. I don't want a spell in prison, thank
you.

Now I can take a photo of a footballer the split second his
boot hits the ball, and dents it before it moves, but posed
shots are something else. The conditions, background,
aperture and exposure all have to be perfect, and you might
get a picture worth keeping. Anything slightly out, and
you're wasting your time. I carefully lined up the view,
checked my exposure meter to get the optimum setting, and
took the shot. The light was failing fast, and I didn't rate
my chances highly. But for 50p - unless - "I don't think
it'll be very good," I started - "Oh, shame!" one of the
lads butted in - "but I've got a studio over there -"
pointing to the corner house "- and I could do one under
floodlight if you like." "Well - I don't know!" said the
blond one. A moment passed. Two. Three. I wasn't going to
push it any harder for a couple of 50p photos. I turned to
go. "Do you want to take our pictures or not?" comes after
me. "Only if I can sell them!" I shout back. I really only
meant sell to them, but - suddenly they've run up alongside
me, and "Could you sell pictures of us? Really?" My mind
slipped into 'safety catch off' mode, ignored the 'go
directly to jail' square, I stopped the brisk walk I'd gone
off in and said "There are certain types of photograph that
certain types of people might buy, but I doubt if you'd want
to do them and I don't know if I'd risk taking them." A
silent pause, during which my brain switched off its logic
banks and I added "Would you." The pause ended when the dark
haired boy asked "What would we have to do?" "Undress." I
said.

The two boys come in nervously and I offer them a sandwich
and a coke. We sit chatting in the kitchen for a while, then
I ask them if they're still OK with the idea of me
photographing them. I offer them five pounds each, not to do
anything they don't want to, I emphasise, but because I make
a living out of photography, and models are always paid. I
ask again, do they mind being undressed if I want, they
wriggle about a bit, embarrassed, but agree. I open two tins
of beer, pour out one between them and one for myself, and
we continue chatting. I lead the subject onto sex, and ask
them what they know, what they like and eventually "Do you
wank?" They go red and hedge around for a while, but yes
they do. "You are both close friends, ever done it
together?" Even redder, but say a couple of times they have.
I invite them into the lounge, and put on a porno video.
They sit on the sofa, watching intently, and I start
photographing them. "Ignore me," I say, "I'm not here."

After only a couple of minutes, I'm sure they are both hard
in their jeans and capture a few shots of them rubbing their
bulges. "Take your jeans off," I say, "and relax. Wank if
you want to, its what I want to take!" Eventually they open
their jeans and slip them, and their underpants, down.  Two
young hard cocks stand up from their bodies. First one, then
both of them, give their cocks a rub. I ask them to slow
down a bit - "We don't want it over too soon, do we!" I get
them to move slightly lower in their seats, to give me a
better picture, then as they get used to the situation, I
direct their hand action, getting closer all the time.
Eventually I'm close enough to say "Do it like this," and
place my hand on the blond ones cock and give it a few slow
rubs. He smiles at me. "Come on, time to show me how
friendly you are with each other!" they slide closer
together, take each other's cock in their hands and rub.
They smile at each other, and show me that they really do
know what each other likes. I can't work the shutter fast
enough as they forget I'm there and really get into
pleasuring each other. A couple of times, eh? Yeah! These
two have wanked each other's brains out for years, they are
really getting off on it.

They lean closer together, an arm goes round a shoulder,
their lips meet and tongues wrap round each other. If these
kids ain't lovers, then my dick's a matchstick. And the
pressure inside my jeans tells me that ain't so! The arm
round the shoulder pulls tighter, the kiss gets stronger,
and how the camera shutter doesn't jam at this speed I don't
know. A corner of the kiss breaks as two pairs of overfull
lungs exhale noisily and twin fountains of boycum shoot high
in the air. Again and again they shoot, hands are a blur on
cocks, cum falls splattering on faces, chests and arms. Then
they lick it off each other's faces! I should double,
quadruple the money I paid them for the session! I could
retire from the profits of selling pictures like these!
Eventually they lay back, exhausted. "Was that alright?" the
darker boy asked. "Alright?" I exclaimed, "it was fucking
fantastic! What do you do for an encore?" "How much do you
pay?" said the blond one, "or would we get more from half of
the profits?" "Sounds like you want a business deal!" I
laughed. "We'll do the business," said the dark haired boy,
"you sell the pictures!" said the blond.



The End.



Liked it? Tell me. Didn't like it? Tell me why. I don't like
to think I'm wasting my time.