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Straight lad and gay photographer. Sports kit references, shower sex
Caught on camera
By Jack Samson
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They were a pleasant couple, in their twenties, obviously from somewhere like South London judging by their accents and on holiday. They’d come to the café where I was working and always sat outside at a table in the sun. But we don’t often get English speaking visitors to the remote area I now live in and they were keen to chat and find out about the place they were visiting, from ‘a local’. The village where I live and work is high up in the mountains, the main tourist resorts are down on the coast but occasionally more intrepid holidaymakers choose to stay up in the mountains and forgo the beaches and night clubs.
‘Here we go,’ I said, my professional voice returning. ‘What I want you to do Mark, is this: put one foot up on the edge of the bath and start to undo your boots.
That’s it, look this way. Turn a little away from me.’
This movement accentuated the shape of his arse, his football shorts pulled tight around it.
‘You’re a soccer star just off the field. You’re gunna take a bath, get yourself ready for a night on the town with the girls, o.k.?’
‘Sure.’
‘So, undo the lace, take the boot off and drop it, that’s it. Now, change sides and do the same with the other. Let me get a close up.’
I crouched down in front of him and pointed the camera to his foot. His hands were trembling on his Doc Marten boot, grey from street dust.
‘Relax,’ I reminded him. ‘Let the dope do its work and let yourself go. You just won the game, no need to be nervous.’
‘Sorry mate.’
I panned out. In the view finder I could just see the hem of his shorts. I tilted upwards and snapped the front. No bulge, nothing showing. A dead shot. I stood back a little.
‘O.k., now the fun part. Lean over and turn the shower on. It’s the knob there.’
‘And think Mark. Think what you want to happen next. What does she do to you? What do you want to happen now?’
All the time my camera was clicking away, I had over one hundred shots now, there was nothing left to photograph apart from his cum, and I knew that was not far away. I put the camera to one side and stepped forward.
‘Tell me Mark, tell me what happens next.’
I could see that he was fucking is tight arse with a finger behind him, his hips were thrust forward and he was slowly wanking his foreskin back and forth over his fat, purple head. His mouth was open slightly, water running in and trickling out. His eyes still shut.
‘Suck me,’ he whispered.
‘I didn’t hear you,’ I lied.
‘Suck me,’ he said it louder.
‘I can’t hear you.’
‘Please, suck me! Someone suck my cock.’
I stepped into the bath. The warm water immediately soaked my clothes. I put one arm around him, and turned off the shower.
His eyes snapped open. They were inches away from mine, our bodies touching. I could feel his fist as it pumped on his shaft and banged against my belly, his cock head pressed against my shorts.
Without saying a word I put both hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently to his knees.
‘You first,’ I said.
I lifted my head to look up his smooth body and into his brown eyes. His own head was raised from the pillow slightly so that he could see more clearly what I was doing. His mouth was open in bewilderment, his eyes wide in disbelief. How long had he dreamed of this, how long had he waited?
He did not have to wait longer, and neither did I. I dropped my head and gazed onto his cock for the first time. It lay flat against his body, the tip almost reaching to his belly button, his foreskin was pulled right back, revealing the pink head that glistened in anticipation. The shaft was even, smooth, no veins, just dark, brown flesh that now lay taught and waiting. Below it his balls lay in their hairless sack, not big, but perfectly proportioned to his length. And around all of this were the short, almost shaved hairs that I had felt before.
I lent forward, drawing in his sweet smell in a deep breath that numbed my pounding heart and calmed my excited breathing. My tongue touched the tip of his cock for the first time and I tasted his salty precum as I probed the slit so very gently. He twitched again and I heard him breathe in sharply. And then my tongue was tracing the rim of his cock head, just flicking it, teasing it, torturing the lad whose hands pressed on my head, trying to push me onto him. I kissed his shaft, felt the springy flesh that covered the solidness beneath, turned my head so that my mouth nibbled down it like it was corn cob until I reached the loose skin beneath. Here I played my lips over the small orbs that rested freely inside. I felt them roll around on my lips before I pushed in under them and they parted across the bridge of my nose.
