Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2008 21:11:45 -0700 (PDT)
From: tague michaels <tagmichaels@gmail.com>
Subject: A Boy's Hobby

This story is also posted in the gay adult youth folder as part of
PHOTOGRAPHING BOYS-Austin's Story. There will be more chapters to the
story, I just don't know how many at this point.  I am also working on my
own web page so stay tuned for that momentous event.
Hugs
Tag_m



"May I come in?" Amol asked

"Yes of course," I said, closing the door once he was inside then stepped
over to the sofa, offering him a seat. Amol was dressed much as he had
been when I'd seen him before except that he'd changed the t-shirt for a
blousier long sleeved shirt that was belled at the cuff.

"I waited until your friend left," he said. "I don't want any of the
other boys to know that I'm here or what we talk about, or whatever
arrangements we make between us. Besides," he said with a wry smile, "I
didn't want to impinge on your private moments." Clearly the beautiful
young thing assumed that I was having sex with Haresh. That was fine with
me.

"Well thank you for your consideration Amol. Any. arrangements as you put
it. between you and I will be kept in confidence. There's no reason why
anyone else need to know our business no matter what it is." He nodded
his head.

"Well I have been thinking of doing some modeling for some time now but
not only do I not know anyone in Europe who could do it, I don't trust
anyone either. Then there's the fact that anything I do must be kept
confidential." I nodded my head. I had a couple of questions and since
the boy didn't go on I asked them.

"Okay fair enough. First of all what do you have in mind?" I really
wanted to know the why of it but that really wasn't any of my business.
He said that he would explain that if we came to an agreement. I nodded
my head and asked,

"Why me?" He explained that he'd been watching me for a couple of days
and seemed to like what I was doing, that is, being gentle, respectful,
and not pushy in any way with any of the locals. He'd heard the other
boys talking, although they didn't talk to Amol personally, and they'd
accepted me into their circle and rather enjoyed being photographed.

"Even," he added, "during their private time." Clearly he was talking
about the jack off session that I'd been allowed to be present for. "So
part of what I need is a promise that I have total control of any images
that you take of me during our sessions. I can't allow any photos out
that I don't approve of regardless of how innocent they seem or otherwise
and that includes those you've taken of me so far at the river." I nodded
my head in understanding and agreement.

"I've had plenty of requests as well as offers to be photographed and
I've always refused for the reasons I just stated but I'm actually sort
of interested in having it done, you know what I mean?" I nodded my head
again. "I'm not unaware of my looks. I know that I rank at the upper
levels of the competition in terms of beauty and I'm not being conceited,
just honest. God knows I've heard it often enough. Then there's the
matter of my.endowment and I'm sure you know what I'm talking about." I
nodded my head. Lying to the boy or pretending that I didn't know what he
was talking about would likely end any further discussion.

"After my first year of physical education at school I was allowed to
drop it due to a supposed medical problem but the fact is that at eleven
years old I was developed more like a thirteen or fourteen year old boy.
It was becoming a topic of discussion and you would be amazed at the
number of people who were interested in seeing me naked." Actually I
wouldn't have been surprised at all but I didn't say anything.

"I know that I'm the talk of the boys on the river but I'm sort of used
to it. I got it last year when I was home for the summer too but I also
get it in London. Most of the boys here give me a fairly wide berth and I
know it's because they think I'm better than they are but the truth is I
don't do well with strangers and I think I intimate the boys. I'm leagues
ahead of them in education as well as intelligence and experience in the
world. Again, I'm not being conceited, it's just a fact. I think too that
I frighten them a little bit because of how I look, how I talk, the fact
that my family is very wealthy. As you know social level is very
important here. So, I think it's actually more that they view me as being
superior to them as opposed to the other way around." He shrugged his
shoulders.

"But that's the way it goes. I deal with it." Again I nodded my head. I
figured that Amol was processing as much as anything else. I doubted that
he had the opportunity to have this sort of discussion very often if at
all.

"Well I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't curious Amol. Yes you are one of
the most striking boys I've ever laid eyes on and I've laid eyes on a
great many. And yes, I'm as curious as the next guy about how you look in
the basement. The pictures I have certainly peak one's interest." He
smiled and said

"Speaking of which may I see them?" I moved next to the gorgeous boy and
went to the folder on my laptop that had his images in it. When I came to
the one of him coming out of the water, the one that fully outlined his
pride and joy he sort of sighed.

"May I have your word that these won't be shown to anyone?" I nodded my
head and gave my word.

"So," he said, leaning back on the sofa, "tell me about you and your
interest in photography. And I mean the whole story."

"That could take a while Amol."

"We have all night," he responded. I asked if he wanted a soda or bottled
water then brought 2 bottles of water from the kitchen, sat back and
started my story.

My father had been an amateur photographer but I suppose he could have
gone professional instead of being one of many bookkeepers in a huge
company. He took a camera everywhere he went, even work, and he had a
darkroom inside what he called his work area took up virtually the entire
basement. I had a brother, Michael, who was eleven0 years older than me
and whom I hardly knew. At twenty three Michael was one of the last
people killed toward the end of the first gulf war and it really took a
lot out of my father and may have been part of the reason he died a year
later.  I was twelve at the time.

In any case I adored my dad and wanted to emulate him so I took up
photography. I had my first little Kodak when I was seven and like my
father I took it everywhere. He taught me how to develop film and by ten
I was allowed to develop my own pictures without his help. He had a large
fireproof filing cabinet that sat inside of a large wooden cabinet in a
corner in his work area. Like the entire work area, he kept the file
cabinet locked and he had the keys to it and the work area on him all the
time. He may have showered with them for all I know. He told me that a
photographer needed to organize as well as protect his work and that was
what he was doing. He taught me his filing system and had me to put away
photos as long as he was in the room with me.

My mother never went into the basement. She was physically and
emotionally, not a strong woman and negotiating the steep stairs was
difficult for her. The fumes from the chemicals that dad used were also a
huge deterrent for her. Dad would take off about once every month or so
and be gone for the weekend on a photo expedition. Sometimes he would be
gone for a week and sometimes he traveled to Europe for the company he
worked for. My mother never complained or said a word about it. The
images he took on those trips were largely of nature but there were some
that were of people, buildings and the like.

When my father died of a heart attack I was devastated although not
nearly as much as my mother was. She'd lost a son and now her husband and
she seemed to lose what little energy she'd had. For all practical
purposes I became the head of the house and I was just shy of thirteen
years old.

I didn't pick up my camera for over a month after he died and I totally
avoided the basement. When I finally did go down there I cried almost the
entire time. It took another two weeks before I got around to cleaning
things up. Dad had been pretty organized but still there were some
projects that needed finishing, trash that needed emptying and surfaces
that needed dusting, at least in the work area. The darkroom remained
spotless for the most part.

There were a bunch of photos from his last developing job that needed
filing so I went about doing that then took some time to go through some
of the stuff that he had, admiring his camera work. I was looking at
things in the bottom drawer and since I was on my knees I was sort of
level with the drawer and not looking down into it. I thought I saw
something in the back so got a flashlight and shined it in, spying what
looked like a button set into the back of the file cabinet. Being a
curious boy I pushed it and heard a faint click that sounded like it came
from behind the wooden enclosure that the file cabinet was set into.

I stood up and looked all around the cabinet but couldn't see anything
out of the ordinary. In no time at all I heard another faint click. I
knew that it was important because my dad had been a "secrets" man. He'd
loved the ancient gadgetry in the Indiana Jones movie and our house had a
few such things. The fireplace in our living room was surrounded by built
in bookshelves and one part was divided into six small squares and one of
them had a little hidey hole that opened when you pressed on a certain
screw head. He didn't keep anything in it except a little statue of
liberty that I'd gotten him a few years before as a gift. All of the
kitchen cabinets were the kind with magnetic doors that you pushed on to
pop the door open. He would have had secret doors and passage ways if the
house had been large enough. Well, more that what I would discover I
mean.

So, based on that and other things about my dad, I knew that the click
meant something. For instance he also tended toward back up plans. He had
them for all kinds of things. The door to his work area could be opened
from the inside even when it was locked from the outside, kind of like a
walk in freezer because there were no door knobs. The door was closed all
the time, even when we were in it but it also locked automatically if
there was no motion in the room for more than ten minutes. Thinking about
that got me to wondering if the second click I'd heard had to do with
something along those lines.

I got to my knees again and pushed the button and heard the click. If
something needed to be done in a timely manner then it stood to reason
that it might well have something to do with the file cabinet itself; but
what. A moment later I heard the second click. I did it again and used
the second hand on my watch to time it. Ten seconds exactly; which meant
that whatever needed to be done had to be within easy reach. The open
file drawer was the obvious choice so I reached in and pushed the button
then moved out of the way and closed the file drawer. As soon as it
clicked shut the left side of the wooden cabinet that the file cabinet
was in popped away from the wall behind it. It didn't open much, only
about an inch but it did so very quietly. I reached into the crack and
pulled on the back of the cabinet and when it was about half way open a
light went on behind it to reveal a small room, the doorway to which had
been completely covered by the cabinet.

There was a work bench with a bar stool type chair and another door but
this one appeared to recess into the wall. Like the outer door to the
work area it didn't have any doorknob but had a small handle about where
the doorknob would normally be. I tried gently to open the door but it
didn't budge. I was smart enough to know that if dad had a secret room,
or in what now seemed like two or more rooms, there was a serious reason
for it. As such I knew better than to do anything without looking around
first so I did a quick scanned there on the workbench was an envelope
with my name on it. I sat in the chair and tore it open then read the
letter that it held.

My dear Austin,

If you're reading this then I'm no longer in this world. The past few
years my health hasn't been that good, although you didn't know that.
After Michael's death it got worse but that isn't what this is about.
You've found my room and thus my secret but before you do anything at all
remember how much freedom and liberty meant to me.
Love,
Dad

I thought about that for a minute then set the letter down and ran
upstairs to the hidey hole by the fireplace and popped open the hidden
panel, snatched the statue and returned to the basement where I unscrewed
its base. I had bought it for dad because it was hollow inside providing
another little hidey hole and in there I found a slip of paper. The paper
had numbers on it but nothing more. I began look though the three drawers
in the work bench and found a hand held calculator. I turned it on then
punched in the numbers on the piece of paper.  I didn't hear anything but
that wasn't important. I went over to the other door and tried it and
discovered that it was free to slide open; and I did.

Another overhead light came on as soon as the door was opened about an
inch and fully opened it revealed yet another room, this one much larger,
about the size of our living room and had wall to wall carpeting. Against
one wall was a neatly made bed and in the corner a nice armchair as well
as lighting and shade equipment and an expensive portrait camera on a
tripod. It was a photo studio. I did a quick mental rundown of our house
and property and figured that I was actually under the garage at the side
of the house. Two other open doorways led to a small neat bathroom and
what I figured might have been a small kitchen at one time. I rightfully
figured that originally the rooms had been a bomb shelter that my dad had
told me many people had built during the 50's and 60's in preparation for
an atomic attack by either the "Rooskies" or the "chinks".  Cool.

The kitchen had a huge floor to ceiling steel cabinet on one wall. About
ten feet long, it was maybe twenty inches deep and had one door for each
side with a drop bar mechanism in the center that held the doors shut
tight. I tried the bar and while it was a tight fit I lifted it up and
opened the left door first as it blocked the right door. Inside there
were eight columns of bins from ceiling to floor, the top three rows
covered by yet another door although this one was actually divided into
four parts. This, or these, doors opened upward from the bottom and slid
backwards between the top of the cabinet and the top row of bins like the
doors in a classic "lawyer's" book case. The bins themselves were the
metal mesh kind so they would hold solid things but nothing small like
screws or nails. Obviously liquid was out of the question unless it was
in a jar or something. Hanging from a bin at my eye level was a small
hand held cassette player with my name on a tag hanging next to it. I
went for the cassette player, ignoring the bins for the moment, and felt
my throat lump up as my heard my dad's voice.

"Austin, my son. I hope you don't think ill of me for my hobby."

For the next three minutes I listened to his voice as it told me about
the secret that he'd kept from anyone who knew him except, as I found out
later, my older brother. Aside from enjoying what he did, it paid him
some good money, money which helped cover my mother's medical bills but
also provided a large stash of cash that I would find in a safe hidden
upstairs. In short my father was a photographer of nudes. He had been a
primary photographer in the nudist or naturist community since his late
teens but he'd also done photography for magazines that were primarily
about boys, naked boys. And I would discover that not all of them were
portraits.

Dad told me to stop the tape there and continue with it at another time
after I was done investigating the bins. I did as he asked and began to
look in some of the bins. Along with what seemed like thousands of photos
were a variety of magazines in both black and white as well as color with
titles like PICCOLO, NAKED BOYHOOD, BOYS BOYS BOYS, BOYS GALORE, and BOY
PHOTO as well as SUNSHINE AND HEALTH and other naturist magazines. Some
of them were in foreign languages. I was astounded, shocked and I felt my
dick get really hard as I looked quickly through some of them.

One of the magazines I picked up had pictures of boy's with boners. Alot
of the boys were close to my age and like me were just starting puberty.
I had never realized how attractive boys were until I saw those
magazines.

My dick was getting very uncomfortable so I took the magazine out to
where the armchair was, undid my pants and shoved them to my ankles and
sat down. I thumbed through the magazine while I stroked my rigid dick
with a thumb and two fingers. I'd only been beating off for a few months,
having discovered it along with my best friend Jessie. We'd looked at a
playboy while we did it and even though it made me hard enough and it was
fun and all it seemed that looking at the boys really got my blood going.

It didn't take long before I squirted, a single glob of sperm shooing out
onto my flat belly and the show was over. I held my pants in place as I
walked to the bathroom, hard cock jutting out in front of me, and used
toilet paper to clean myself off. That done I retrieved the magazine and
put it back where I got it then continued to go through the bins looking
at pictures and thumbing through magazines.

I found myself comparing my stuff to other boys. Sure there were plenty
of boys that seemed older than me, 14-16 year olds whose cocks seemed way
bigger than mine and some whose big hairy balls seemed to hang halfway to
their knees. But of the boys who seemed close to my age, the 12-13 year
olds, I was right in the ball park by comparison. I'd measured myself
about a week before and was pleased that I was just about to cross the
five inch mark on my red plastic ruler. Of course that was when it was
hard. Soft it looked like a stub some times.  My hairs were starting to
come in more, not that I had a bush or anything, but it was beginning to
be more than just a dozen or so scraggly dark brown strands. My balls
were still totally smooth and while they didn't hang way down like some
of the boys in the magazines, they didn't spend all their time in a
crinkled little bag up against my body either. Well, unless I was cold or
something then it seemed like everything shrunk except my little nipples.

All in all I was mostly happy with my body when I stood naked in front of
the full length mirror that hung from the back of my bedroom door. I was
a slender five foot two inches. I still had some baby fat around my belly
but I knew that as I grew up that would go away. I loved my blond hair
and hoped it would stay that way when I got older. At twelve I'd let it
grow a little shaggy and liked the look. I'd seen pictures of my older
brother Michael in his teens so knew that there was a good chance that
I'd grow up to be somewhat like he was, a rather good looking boy with a
narrow and well developed body. He had worked out a lot, played a variety
of sports, so I'd seen images of him in nothing but workout shorts. One
of the best though was him after he'd taken first at a state wrestling
meet. Still in his wrestling uniform, I really hoped to fill out the
bottom part like he did. Fuck did he have a bulge.

When it came to clothes I wore the popular jeans, Vans or Airwalks on my
feet, and t-shirts that sported the logos of popular music groups. I knew
that because I had my camera with me all the time that I risked being
viewed as a geek so did what I could to counteract that image. I must
have very successful at it because no one gave me shit and I seemed to be
welcomed by most of the various clicks in my sixth grade class. I hoped
that acceptance would carry into my new school when I started junior high
come September.

I thumbed through one of the nudist magazines and, like the Playboy, I
was turned on okay by the naked girls but not as much as the naked boys.
There were plenty of little boys in that one too but they interested me
even less than the girls. No, it was boys like me, teenage boys that made
my dick so hard that I took the magazine and went back into the other
room, stripped my clothes off and lay down on the bed to look through it.
I found a handful of pictures of a specific boy that I focused on while I
stroked my boner.

He was cute as all hell, more matured than me with a longer dick and a
nice little patch of hair at the base of his pride and joy. His balls
were still smooth like mine but hung lower. He had a great smile with
perfect lips and for the first time in my life I wondered what it would
be like to kiss a boy. I lay back and closed my eyes and fantasized about
doing things with him. I hadn't gotten to the point of actually sucking a
boy's cock; in my thoughts, fantasies, or real life, so it was more about
beating off together or even just lying naked on a bed together. It took
longer than usual for me to cum of course cuz I'd already done it only
about a half hour before but when I did it felt just as good and I lasted
longer. That was the first time that I'd beat off twice in a day.

I cleaned myself up, got dressed and put the magazine back. There were
too many bins for me to go through in one sitting so I stopped doing that
part for the time being and went back to listening to the tape my father
had left me. It proved to be very illuminating.

"Okay Austin. If you followed my directions I'm sure you took the
opportunity to look through some of the material and probably masturbated
at least once."

I knew that my dad had been a pretty smart guy but I sure didn't expect
to hear that from him. He went on to say tell me about the security
system. The top part of the steel cabinet was actually a holding tank
filled with acid. If the cabinet in the work area was opened in any way
except how it was supposed to be it acted like a primer for the acid tank
and if the second door was forced the tank would let loose with the
liquid which would pour down through the steel meshed bins and destroy
anything that wasn't metal and do it quickly. The bottom of the steel
cabinet was actually a drain. The acid would empty into another holding
tank and thus not harm anyone-the anyone in all probability being the
police.

"You see son, all of this material is dangerous to have. Before the mid
1970's they were legal, as you can see by the number of magazines. The
laws changed and such photography was banned, even though most of it was
innocent and not of a sexual nature. Possession of them can cause a
person a great deal of problems including prison time and a designation
as being a pedophile, a child molester, or a sexual predator which would
last for the rest of the person's life, assuming he made it out of prison
alive. Being a murderer in our society is generally acceptable but
committing, or even being charged with a sexual crime, even against an
adult, is not."

"If you decide to keep all of this or if you decide to follow in my
footsteps you must be extremely careful and I cannot stress that enough.
No one should be allowed in this area unless of course you are using the
studio and even then they should never be allowed to come in through the
house." That got my attention.

He went on to explain those procedures for two other ways into house, one
primary and one back up. They were somewhat elaborate but the odds of
someone stumbling onto either passage ways practically nil. He ended the
tape by telling me where the safe was, the combination, and the fact that
there was additional information in there that would be very useful to
me. I looked at my watch and decided to end my explorations for the time
being and left, taking one of the nudist magazines with me.

The magazine proved useful to me in a variety of ways, the first being as
personal jack off material. I used it for that almost daily. The second
was that it was great for getting my friend Jessie to jack of with me.
Sure there were plenty of more hard core stuff on the market but two 12
year olds, at least us 2, didn't have the connections for them. The
playboy was cool and all but the nudist magazine showed people of all
ages. Jessie didn't mind looking at the boys but was quite taken with
girls who were just starting to hair on their pussies and had little
titties while I of course liked the boys in the same age group.

I also liked looking at Jessie. He was behind me in terms of development.
His cock was smaller and he only had two or three hairs growing on his
dick but he was a live boy. I really liked sitting side by side on my bed
with our pants down, legs spread, with the magazine between us while we
played with ourselves. My friend seemed to like looking at my dick as
much as I liked looking at his and I guess it was mostly just about the
"live" part and not a magazine.

"Dude, your dick is getting so big I can't believe it," he told me one
night. He was staying the night with me and we were in my room behind a
locked door, our clothes in a pile on the floor. "Man I hope my dick
starts growin soon," he said, adding "It looks so hard too. Can I like,
touch it?" he asked. He could do almost anything he wanted with it as far
as I was concerned, not that I had any ideas about what that might mean.
My answer was to take my hand off it and spread my legs. Jessie took hold
of me, first with his thumb and fingers then wrapped his fist around it.
Fuck that felt so awesome, having someone else touching me and I groaned
slightly. He let go and cupped my nuts commenting on how soft they felt
and how nicely they hung down. His were still smaller but were starting
to drop.

He finally let go and said I could do the same to him so I did. It felt
weird, the hardness of his 12 year old cock yet the softness of his skin.
And it was warm too. I stroked him a few times, felt up his balls then
let go.

"That feels fuckin great doesn't it?" he asked then suggested we might
jack each other off. I had no problem with that so we moved closer
together and lay the magazine on our legs and took hold of each other's
rigid boy cocks. I wondered for the first time about sucking his dick. I
wanted to feel my mouth around his shaft but there was no way I would
suggest it. We kept on jacking each other's dick and seemed to get where
we wanted to go about the same time.

I didn't make very much sperm and Jessie made even less but the feelings
of cumming at someone else's hand was incredible and I managed a couple
of squirts, the first one shooting all the way to just above my belly
button. Jessie was mighty impressed with that while his offering was more
of a droplet that just appeared suddenly at his pee hole. Still and all
judging from the moaning and groaning and Oh fuck-ing it must have felt
as good to him as it did to me.

Jessie and I would have a whole lot of experiences together. It was
Jessie that would eventually get me to suck cock, which I loved from the
get do. He was also the one who suggested that I start photographing boys
we knew that would, or at least might, pose. It was worth shot to try and
Jessie said he'd start thinking of a way. He knew I couldn't approach
anyone about but someone else suggesting it would be a whole different
story.

The topic came up one afternoon a few weeks after I'd first shown him the
magazine. Jessie had seen plenty of my work, some of which he thought was
very good and he knew that I developed my own film.

"That's a big part of it Austin," he said after making the initial
suggestion. "Because I know that nobody else would ever see the pictures,
I'd even pose for you."

"Serious?" I responded, a little bit surprised by the suggestion in the
first place, and Jessie's offer in the second place.

"Sure," he said, jumping up off the bed and mimicking a variety of cheesy
poses in the middle of my bedroom. We were both still naked from having
jacked off about ten minutes before so my friend's animation made his
softened cock bounce around as he went from standing before me with his
narrow hips thrust out at me seductively, to turning and bending over to
show me his puckered little butthole, to putting his hands behind his
head and doing a sort of hula combined with a stripper's bump and grind.

"Go ahead, shoot me baby," he said mockingly so I grabbed my camera and
began shooting him while he pretended he was a model and went from one
pose to another. Jessie didn't stint on the sexual poses either. There
was plenty of him playing with his cock, holding it as if it was an item
that he was showing or demonstrating for a customer, pretending he was
jacking off even though he was still soft. On that one he added some
facial expressions as if he were all hot and sexy like. We stopped after
about ten minutes and he asked when I would develop them so he could see
what they looked like.

"Fuck, right now," I said with a huge smile. Jessie had watched me
develop film when my dad was alive so knew how to behave in the darkroom
and had even helped me from time to time.  Later, when we looked at the
finished product, we were both pleased with the work although when Jessie
looked at the shots of him pretending to jack off he said.

"That looks so fake, ya know what I mean? I think that it would be better
if I was like, you know, really beating off." I gave him a look that said
are you kidding.

"Seriously Austin; don't you think it looks like I'm fakin it?" I had to
agree with him. "So, you're going to have to take pictures of me while
I'm really doin it." Jessie was ready to do it right then and there but I
had things I had to do so we put it off, agreeing that we'd try it the
first real opportunity we had.

One would have thought that, at almost thirteen, having a stash of nudie
magazines and pictures available would have found me spending as much
time as possible pouring over said magazines and pictures time but it
didn't. During the summer I had lawns to mow as well as chores around the
house which included quite a bit. My dad had insisted that I find work to
do during the summer months saying that the experience would be good for
me. Honestly I didn't mind. It gave me extra spending money but also gave
me an opportunity to take portrait pictures. Most people were willing to
sit still for me or at least take pictures of them going about their
business.

Amol interrupted me at that point.

"I need to use the facilities please." I directed him to the bathroom
while I brought two more bottles of water from the kitchen. When Amol was
finished I used the bathroom and returned to the living room.

"You said that the naturist magazine was useful for three reasons and you
told me two of them, what was the third."

The third reason was that it gave me more of an education about my own
body, or the male body. At that time I hadn't used a hand mirror to check
out the more difficult to access parts of my body. The photos and
magazines gave me access to other boy's bodies and thus my own. Because
of the various poses I got a more clear understanding of butt holes for
instance, or what a boy's sac looks like from underneath and how that
little seam of flesh goes all the way from one spot to the other like it
was sewed shut or something. I saw wrinkled bags and ones that hung low.
I got a better understanding of butts and how the cheeks are designed to
keep the butthole hidden away unless you went out of your way to show it.
Seeing boys sitting down and facing the camera with their legs open show
where the butt crack begins, how some balls hang low enough to almost
cover the butt hole but don't quite make it.

Not only did I get an idea about how many different sizes and shaped of
cocks there are I also got my first glimpses of uncircumcised cocks which
was a total novelty to me. I had no idea. Those were generally in the
magazines from other countries and what I saw was that there weren't any
boys at all that were circumcised. So I learned about what a boy's cock
looks like with the foreskin on it, how the skin comes backwards to show
the boys cock head. There was much more but all in all they provided a
heck of an anatomy lesson, one that I wouldn't have gotten for some
years.

Between the time of my first discovery and photographing Jessie I went
through more of the bins and I checked out the safe that my father had.
There was some fairly shocking news in there. First off there was a
savings account in my name with $86, 959.00 in it and to make it more
interesting it was in some foreign country. There was another $20,000.00
in cash, all hundred dollar bills. There was also a key which I would
learn was a post office box and another for a safe deposit box. There was
a notebook that contained all of the people, companies and magazines that
he'd had dealings with over the years. It showed the business that had
transpired as well a various bits of useful information, at least to him,
and I guess for me too. It now appeared that dad's hobby was more of an
actual business. There was another cassette tape and a variety of other
things of his. He said that in no uncertain circumstances was any of the
money to go to my mother that she and my support had already been taken
care of.  There were other things that I won't go into now. Suffice it to
say that I would be able to spend time developing my photography skills
and probably make some good money at it when I became an adult.

The bins provided more excitement than I had imagined as well. I had been
approaching them methodically, like my dad had taught me to approach most
tasks. Initially I had simply opened a bin and did a cursory check then
went to another one. For a thorough investigation I started in one place
and worked my way down starting at eye level on the left hand column and
worked my way down one column then repeated the action on the next column
and so forth. There were about three rows of bins across the top of the
eight columns that I couldn't reach without a chair or stool of some kind
so I'd saved those for last.

So one rainy Friday morning in late July, Friday being one of the two
days that my mother spent at her church helping with clean up and such, I
went down to the basement with a kitchen stool that my mother had used to
reach the higher shelves in our kitchen. I immediately discovered why the
top door was split into four separate pieces. Being made of steel like
the rest of the cabinet I would never have been able to lift it.

I found that the first column of bins contained nothing but negatives.
Organized into manila folders of various sizes I guessed that they
belonged to all of the images contained in the bins below. A closer
glance later would confirm that guess. Column two was where the fun
really started; at least after the initial shock wore off for the first
bin was full of images of my brother Michael.

The first bin started when Michael was about my age, thirteen I guessed
since he was about my size. His dick was bigger than mine and he had a
small patch of hairs growing on it. Many of the photos had been taken in
our house although not in the studio. There were some of him partially
dressed, in his underwear and of course the nudes. While many of the
images were clearly posed, some seemed to catch my brother going about
the daily business of being a boy, although a boy without clothes on. The
camera caught him in every conceivable pose or posture imaginable
including standing on his head in a corner of our living room.

The benign photos were followed by sexy ones. He proudly displayed his
hard young cock for the camera in a variety of ways; pointing it, cupping
his nuts with his hand while a thumb finger separated his rigid dick from
the rest of the package, the list goes on. The images of him jacking off
were great, the camera picking up the feelings he was experiences through
the expressions on his smooth cute face. My dad caught his cum shot
pretty good too, one, a stream of sperm in the air still connected to his
cock head. The expression on Mike's face was a mix of pain, pleasure, and
just plain awe at what was happening to his body. I'd felt the same thing
on my own face when I cummed before.

There were also images of Michael with two other boys, both of whom were
very cute and one that had a really big cock. The boy didn't have much
more hair than Mike but man oh man his dick had to be at least seven or
eight  inches long when it was soft. Hard, it looked big and thick. Like
the others, there were plenty of innocent images, boys just being around
the house or somewhere out in the country. There were many boner pictures
as well as the boys sucking each other's dicks. The ones of Mike sucking
on that other boy's big cock made my own dick go ever harder than it
already was. The expression on Mike's face told me that he was hot as a
fire poker with his mouth wrapped around the thing and the expression
didn't seem to change when the boy shot his sperm out onto my brother's
face. I took those out into the other room and practically ripped my
clothes off and lay on the bed. I stroked my stone hard young cock as I
watched my brother and as I squirted my cum out I wished that it was me
on the other end of that dick, wishing I could feel the warmth and
hardness of the boy and the wet gooey mass of his young sperm as it
splattered my face. I wished too that I could have sucked my brother's
dick.

The bin contained photos Michael as he grew, the last ones probably taken
around fifteen or sixteen I would guess. By then he was one hell of a
hunk of boy, his body well toned and defined, heavy pecs and a tight flat
belly with an ass to die for and a cock to match. He was easily as big as
the boy in the earlier photos, his cock when soft hanging gently between
his thighs. Hard it was a delight to behold stretching past his flat
belly button when he was on his back. He must have shaved his balls
because they had no hair at all on them at all and the heavy low hanging
eggs drug all the wrinkles out. His cum shots when he got older were
pretty cool too, pools and streams of the stuff.

Unless his bright blue eyes were half closed in lust, which happened a
lot, his toothy smile and playful postures told me that he loved what he
was doing; posing for the camera and being a sexy boy. Often he was
captured on film with at least one other boy, often two or three boys and
all drop dead cute. The combinations of sucking and fucking were many and
varied although there none of Mike getting fucked, it was always him
fucking another boy. There were many shots of him with a particularly
beautiful and small statured young boy who couldn't have had hair the
month before the photos were taken. A close up of his cock and balls
showed a half dozen scraggly light brown strands of hair and of course
his puckered pink asshole was nothing but muscle and skin.

My dick got hard again as the series of images showed Mike licking the
boy's hole, licking and sucking on his smooth balls and then the boy's
rock hard five inch cock. There were plenty of images of the boy doing
the same thing to my brother and the ones with Mike's big fat cock
filling the small boy's mouth were incredible. The ones with Mike's hard
cock shoved all the way inside the boy's butt were beyond incredible and
the expression and the very slight smile on the little boy's face told me
he was lovin every bit of his lovin. The boy was on his back and the
camera caught every possible angle of Mike's cock deep inside of him or
almost all the way out. Pictures from behind the two showed Mike's smooth
hairless hole when he was almost all the way out of the boy and then his
balls all mashed up when his big dick was as far inside the boy as nature
would allow.

The camera caught the boy's cum shot, a tiny pearl of sperm on the tip of
his dick and then Mike's cum shot. He'd pulled out of the boy and jacked
off and when it was over the front of the little boy's body was literally
awash in my brother's sperm. I figured he must have left his cock alone
for a week before those pictures were taken because his cum reached from
the boy's slender neck all the way down to where the last oozing of
Mike's sperm had dripped down onto the boy's smooth hairless balls. I
jacked off again.

I fell in love with my brother, or at least the image of him, by the time
I'd gone through the huge stack of photos. I wanted to be held by him, to
be loved by him. I wanted him to fuck me. That was really my fist
realization that I didn't care one whit for girls. I decided then and
there that I had to find a boy to be with and while Jessie would do for
the time being, I wanted an older boy and hopefully one with some
experience. I would eventually find one of course but it would be some
months before that happened.

I won't go into detail about the rest of the collections of images,
although I may well refer back to them throughout the story, suffice it
to say that I got my entire sexual education from them. Not only were
there photographs but there were some magazines with sexual articles
along with them. There were even a few boy girl magazines although I
wasn't sure if dad took the pictures until I saw one with my brother and
another boy fucking a young girl. It caught my interest and rounded out
my education but that was all. I sure didn't waste any of my sperm on
them.

Other magazines showed every possible combination that three or even four
boys could get into and a couple of them showed teenage boys with preteen
boys. That was interesting but didn't make me feel as sexy as the ones
with just teenage boys. I came away from that experience wanting to try
it all including having my body spattered with cum from a half dozen boys
jacking off on me. I would get it all too. Having seen what's possible I
would use what I'd seen to direct the boys who would eventually pose for
me, not that many boys needed any direction. I would find that boys tend
to be very creative in their own right and more than willing to try new
things, especially when their dicks were full on hard and they were all
up in a fog of hotness from being sexy. My teenage years were going to be
one hell of a roller coaster ride and my camera would document it all.


I had to piss again and so did Amol so we both got up and stretched then
took turns in the bathroom. When I finished I found him standing out at
the back of house on what would be a back porch, this one completely
enclosed in mosquito netting.

"It's getting late Austin," Amol said," and I'm sure there's much more to
your story." I nodded my head and said it would take another couple of
hours to finish.

"Perhaps we could do it in the morning. I'm a fairly early riser thanks
to private school." I nodded my head and he went on to ask what I had in
the house for breakfast and when I told him he said that would be
perfect.

"So can we get up early and finish the story over breakfast?" I nodded my
head. "Good. Now; if it's not too much to presume, I'd like to spend the
night here so we can start early. Is that okay with you?" I was a little
stunned but held it well. While there was a second bedroom there wasn't
any bed and the sofa wasn't exactly what I would call, sleeping on
material.

"If you don't mind, I don't mind if we sleep in the same bed. I'm
thinking that it would be easier for you and for me if we get the subject
of speculation of my body out of the way so that it doesn't interfere
with your ability to focus your attention me and not just my cock. I
don't mind admitting that sword cuts both ways Austin. So let me say
that, yes I'm gay, yes I'm interested in males bodies and yes I'm curious
about yours. None of that means that sleeping together equates to sex.
Perhaps sometime but that sometime isn't tonight. Does that suit you?"

"That sounds both fair and alright with me Amol. I understand your
thinking and I would have to agree that getting that part out of the way
at the outset wouldn't be a bad idea and you wouldn't be the first boy
I'd slept with and maintained a hand's off policy. I'm curious about what
your family is going to say about you sending the night away from home."
He went on to say that his mother was back in Europe and the servants
didn't question is comings and goings and in any case he was the master
of the house.

My stomach was all kinds of jumped up over the prospect of seeing this
God of a boy without a stitch of clothing to cover his body. I turned the
lights out and we went into the bedroom and began the disrobing process
which didn't take all that long. We both started with shirts, Amol
draping his over a chair and mine going on a hamper in a corner. Amol
pulled the drawstrings of his pants while I simply dropped my shorts.
Amol looked at me and smiled. Since I didn't have any underwear on I
stood before him, naked, almost eight inches of thick cock hanging gently
between my legs. I kept myself trimmed up so my dark blonde moss was
confined to my flat pubic bone and not spread out like most males after
the age of eighteen. My balls were totally smooth as well, the large
sized eggs hanging low, my cock draped over them.

"Nice," Amol said. He was still in his sport briefs but they didn't hide
the tube that seemed to snake down into the leg. He hooked his thumbs
into the waistband and tugged them down, bending over to free up his leg.
I could see parts of the snake although his arm blocked me from getting a
clear view. He finally got them off and stood before me, a slight smile
on his smooth brown face. The boy had every reason to be proud.

"Christ," I thought to myself, "the kid must be twelve inches long." I
tried not to stare but it was pretty much impossible. His entire body was
incredibly well developed, small creases separating and underscoring his
pecs as well as his individual abs. His lower belly curved where it was
separated from his hip creases and slid down in a classic V that
contained a nice neat little nest of pitch black tight curls. His cock
was a long thick dark tube that looked totally unnatural on his slender
but perfect body and of course he was uncut although the pink head was
poking out slightly from under his foreskin. His balls hung underneath,
eggs about the size of mine hanging one below the other in a smooth and
fully hairless sac.

"Eleven and seven eight's inches," he said as if he'd heard the question
before. "It might be twelve; I haven't measured it for a year. "You're
developed pretty well to Austin," he said.

"Well Amol you're probably the most perfect specimen of boyhood I've ever
seen." He smiled and thanked me then did a slow turn, allowing me to gaze
on an ass that was to die for, twin globes that arched out gently from
his lower back. I felt myself stir at the idea of burying my face between
those chocolate orbs. He returned to facing me then he stretched,
reminding me of a prize cat, ending with a yawn.

"Shall we," he said, nodding at the bed. What could I do but nod my head
in return. We each went to a side and climbed in and faced each other
under the thin sheet. There was enough light coming through the window so
that we could see each other's faces.

"I think this is going to work out well Austin," he said. "I really have
been thinking about it for a long time and I believe I can trust you. Now
give me a kiss and let's go to sleep." He leaned forward and put his lips
to mine and gave me a light brotherly kiss on the lips then rolled over
and backed into me.

"Can you hold me," he asked so I draped an arm over his chest and he took
hold of it and held it softly to his body. "Mmm, that's nice. You feel
good Austin," he said, his voice already dropping into sleep.

"It feels nice to me too Amol but honestly I hope my cock doesn't
embarrass me." His delicious ass was pressed against my bush and the base
of my dick. He chuckled.

"Don't worry about it; I'm sure we're both going to see each other in
such a state before it's over. As long as it stays where it's at it will
be okay." His voice had gotten even softer so I barely heard the "for
now."


                     PREVIEW OF THE COMMING CHAPTER
                                    
"Dude I been wantin to do this to you forever," Markey said after they
broke the kiss. Neither boy seemed in any hurry to take his hand back
though. Their hands continued to explore and fondle each other, including
balls.

"Me," Jessie asked, clearly surprised.

"Yeah you. I think you're about the cutest boy in school." He turned to
me and said, "No offense Austin."

"That's okay," I said, "Just keep doing stuff cuz I'm getting some great
pictures. They continued to jack each other off but as things got closer
to their sperming each boy took over on his own dick. Jessie was the
first to squirt and fired off a couple of nice little shots onto the side
of his belly.

"Fuck that's so hot to watch," Markey said and stroked himself a little
faster. "Fuck here it comes you guys. Make sure you get my cum shot
Austin," he said in a deep husky voice. His stroked slowed and I kept
snapping away as Markey's dick shot out a thick stream of sperm that
landed on the front of Jessie's hip and down the side. He changed the
angle of his cock a little bit so the next one landed up on his own
ribcage as did the third jet of cum only it was lower. From there on it
was mostly just thick globs of gooey white stuff oozing out the piss slit
of his reddish colored, swollen cock head. When it was all over he lay
there with his eyes closed panting like a race horse.

"That's a lot of jizz dude," Jessie said as he ran a finger through the
mess of white stuff on his hip. Markey didn't respond and I spose there
was no reason for him to. He did finally open his eyes, smile then kissed
Jessie again.