Date: Wed, 16 Dec 2015 11:06:26 -0700
From: Jay <jaystris@msn.com>
Subject: Adventure at the Eros Statue Ch 2   by Jay Roberts     Gay Historical

Adventure at the Eros Statue    By Jay Roberts     Gay Historical

Here I am, sitting on the top step of the Eros Statue, my legs splayed and
my bulge showing even though these heavy uniform pants.  As you know the
young male population of England took a beating in this fucking war.  There
are legions of girls who will never find a mate and homosexuals will be
competing for the rest.

I could experience the male shortage right now.  Here is me, handsome young
and fit, and in uniform which is an instant passion maker.  I see girls
pass and smile at me.  This is something new for the time when girls used
to be demure. But you should see the men!  All ages actually stop and say
hello and look me up and down like hungry wolves..

I could leisurely glance at the passing parade of men, young and old,
secretly with my cap pulled down.  It was getting me really steamed up but
I wouldn't settle for just anyone.

I had two requirements that were stupidly in conflict.  The first was a
skinny sailor.  Well must English lads were skinny I noticed but
occasionally a fatty passed.  Now I had a second, perhaps more important
need, and that is money.  I am munching on a roll that I bought from a cart
and this is the only food I had in twenty four hours.  It didn't cure my
hunger.  Then too in the long term I had to get a bath and new clothes and
more important, a sponsor.  No old one though.  This uniform was beginning
to stink.

There had been one strange person who had been eyeing me since I put my
perfectly formed backside down on this chilly concrete step.  He was as
beautiful as any male I had ever seen.  His features were perfect but his
hair was unkempt and had not seen a comb and brush for awhile.  But the
more unique thing was that he was missing his legs and transported himself
with his arms.  I did not know about his third leg but he seemed randy
enough to stare at me hungrily.  He finally rolled up at the bottom of the
steps and called up to me.

"Young fellow, yes you on the top step.  Move down.  I have to tell you
something."

I smiled and did as he bid, looking for a bit of diversion to forget my
empty belly.

"I have not even a penny to give you.  I am as broke as you."

He smiled with perfect teeth and spoke in a rich baritone.  "It is I who
will aid you pretty fellow."

I laughed.  "How might a, pardon, cripple help me?"

"I can put you in on a payroll and earn a handsome fee myself."

The poor fellow must be mad but I remained where I was.

"I'll take what ever funds you have to offer."

"IT is not me but rather my employer.  He is a talented photographer and he
is looking for comely chaps to shoot, that is by camera.  He pays me a
bounty for every good looking lad I refer."

Now this was an interesting story, if true.

"How much will I be paid to be photographed??"

"The basic fee is one hundred pounds."

Now I was sure he was a lunatic made crazy by his loss of limbs.

"It is hard to believe that large sum for just posing.  Have you sent
many?"

"Alas, no one yet.  It is only you who fill his requirements.  They are
strict, but you have the face, the body and the bearing I believe he wants.
Are you interested?"

"Most certainly."

This was an event that was almost dreamlike.  The odd boy in the cart, his
even odder story but in my present state I was willing to be a pawn in this
grotesque proceeding.  He directed me to an address right here off
Piccadilly and suddenly wheeled away rapidly.  I though that was suspicious
but here I was in front of the green door he described.  Odd, I had not
noticed it before.

I turned the handle and saw that the was unlocked and opened on oiled
hinges.  In front of me was a stair case and at the top a frosted glass
window with the words, "British Photography Studio".

As I almost reached the top of the steep flight of stairs the glass door
was flung open and in the doorway stood a gent.  He had a genial round
head, bald completely.  I noticed his almost obscenely full lips as he
smiled and revealed very large white teeth.

"Ah, at last, beauty has come to the beast," he said in a flutey voice and
then followed with a cascade of high pitched giggling.

I was not impressed with the fellow but at least he appeared safe and I had
no fear of him.

He motioned me in.  Now I noticed his attire, very rich.  A velvet coat and
silk blouse with a flowing red cravat.

He motioned me to sit on a black leather couch.  This positioned me In
front of a tripod toped with a camera.  I had been interested in
photography and recognized a costly Pathe 9 MM model.

"Name is George, dear."  He peered at me with his hands making a picture
frame."The Marquis has done very well, you are exactly what I have been
looking for."

"The Marquis?"

"Yes," he said impatiently, "The Marquis of _________________". And he
mentioned the name of a noble British family.  "They do not feel his
condition allows him to carry the name and his younger brother has
succeeded him.  In fact, his condition precludes carrying anything.  Don't
you agree?"  And he was off, again in the world of giggles.

As he fussed with the camera I sat wondering what was next.  I was jolted
out of my daze by his voice suddenly sounding authoritative.  "Remove your
uniform"

"What?" I asked somewhat angrily.

"You don't think I was going to make a portrait of a ragged American dough
boy.  No dough my boy unless you strip.  Ha ha, that's a good one."

I argued with myself for a moment but the hundred pounds won out.  I began
the slow removal of my uniform.  First the web belt that held my gas mask
and canteen, then my puttees.  My shoes off and then stockings produced a
reeking odor from my feet.  George noticed it from afar and held his nose.

"You have handsome feet, er, what IS your name?"

"Rand," I said mustering up a sound of pride, difficult with bare feet
exposed.

"I shall call you Randy."  This followed by such a gale of laughing that
the fellow staggered and almost upset his camera setup.

My blouse, shirt, vest, trousers and underwear followed.  Now I stood fully
revealed.  My chest puffed out as I had often regarded myself in the mirror
and I was bloody (as the British say) gorgeous.

George was similarly affected.  "You are the statue of David come alive!"
He said but his reverential tone was somewhat blunted by his rubbing of his
crotch.

I stood there, first on one foot, then the other, waiting.  He seemed to
sense my impatience and hurried to stand behind the camera.  And hen he
proceeded to shoot many pictures.  They were of me in many poses, some
quite embarrassing.  Bending over and exposing my bung hole, or gasping my
full size cock and presenting it to the lens.  And there were others, I
became numb to his demands and acquiesced to every demand.  Remember I was
weak with hunger and that coupled with me pride in my appearance prevented
any critical thoughts to intrude.

He was giddy with pleasure.  He kept intoning, "That's a good chap."

During a pause in his picture taking, as he loaded another film and sat
patiently awaiting my money and order to dress and leave, but to my
surprise George returned to his position behind the camera and called out:
"Righto, time for the big show."

"What show?" I asked in a perplexed voice.

"Why the wank off.  Didn't the Marquis explain to you?  What do you think
the hundred pounds is for, a look at your naked only?  For that usually pay
five pounds."

"I need that money badly but it is outrageous for you to ask for me to
perform an unlawful and sinful act that may occur with young men, but only
in private."

"Yes," he giggled, "Isn't it utterly delicious?"

I said nothing.  I struggled with the desire to maintain my privacy and
dignity but my neediness won out.  I tried one more ploy, "How about we
settle for fifty pounds and I leave."

"No, no a thousand times no.  You agreed and now you must deliver the
spooge."

I sighed with resignation and took hold of my soft prick that seemed to be
retracted into its most reticent size.  I gently waggled it.  I used my
thumb on the head.  I retracted the hood over and over again but there was
no response.  I looked at George with an expression that signified that I
was not able to fulfill the assignment.

"No to worry lad, I will assist you."

I shrunk back against the cushions.  George was far from the type who might
excite me.  He was not good looking nor young.  But he was determined in
his stride toward the couch.  He stood before me and fell to his knees.  I
was about to bolt from the room, ignoring my nakedness but suddenly my eyes
fell on his full lips.  They were nice.  The seemed to offer pleasure and
warmth.  I relaxed.

George saw that and breathed out, "That's the lad.  Leave everything to me.
You will be warmed up shortly and want more from me."

That seemed unlikely but I did notice that my prick had firmed up somewhat
in anticipation of those full lips.  My breathing had quickened as well.

George's unusually large tongue was unfurled and it surrounded my hardening
organ with a wet warm blanket of excitation.  I murmured in the beginning
of pleasure.

It encircled and circled.  Then his mouth opened and his full lips stopped
at the ridge just below my cock head.  He sucked at the pre cum.  I
cooperated by emitting more and more pre cum.  My treacherous cock had a
mind of its own.

Now he slid down the stalk, licking and suckling away as he descended.

"Oh, oh," I grunted and he looked up at me and his lips spread into a
smile.  Oh hell, he was supremely good at this."

Suddenly he jumped up and ran over to the camera.  "I'll set it for
automatic, one picture a quarter minute.  It should be able to catch you in
full orgasm."

I doubled it for now I was recovering a bit and even my cock was less hard
but he got back into position and this time his warm hands pumped my cock
shaft as his hot mouth and tongue excited on the downstroke.

I wailed in helpless pleasure and he shook his head in encouragement.  I
tightened that area behind my balls to ensure I woul d not ejaculate and
prove his boast that he would accomplished this.  But my defenses were
gradually overcome and my senses assailed.  I was helpless.  It was if I
were on the crest of a hill and was in danger of sliding but then I began
rolling over the cliff and with an animalistic cry I shot two weeks
accumulation of cum into his greedy gullet.

"Good work my beauty.  George wins again! "

 He handed me the money and said, "I must retire to the dark room.  Dress
and let yourself out.
  Do book a hotel room, bathe, then buys some civilian clothes and return
to me at this same time in two days."

He was gone.  I quickly dressed and left, now a rich boy.


End of Part Two