At first glance, he supposed if someone were to take a photograph of
him at that moment, they would call it "Man Alone in a Loft" and, upon
closer inspection, maybe re-title it "Man Looking at Photos" but taking a
more in-depth look they'd name it, finally, "Man with an Erection". Which
he had. He could feel it pressing against the leg of his sweats. Reaching
down, his fingers encountered a wet spot. Fuck. Where was Justin
when he wanted him? Of course, Justin was the reason he had a woody
anyway. He was looking at photographs of the teen, pictures he had taken
earlier that week. Justin had spent all but one of the past eight nights
at the loft and it was only because Deb had called and ordered him home
that he hadn't spent all of the nights with his lover. Brian didn't expect
him back tonight. When Justin phoned him at work today, he mentioned his
mom coming over to Deb's place for dinner. Which meant Brian was stuck at
home alone with a hard-on that was getting harder by the minute. One
solution would have been to beat off and the other to stop looking at the
photographs but he didn't want to do either. So he poured himself another
drink and continued examining the black and white snapshots, immersing
himself in a past filled with color.
#1; #2; #3
Watching Justin sketch was to watch a world come into being. A world filled with beautiful-bodied men; where inanimate objects took on a life of their own; and the ordinary, the everyday became something wonderful because he showed you something new and different about it, that you'd been too busy, too blind to see. Justin saw those things and more. But the real wonder, to Brian, lay not in his eyes but in his hands. The easy way he held his pencil, his fingers somehow knowing what to do to translate vision into texture and depth. That was the magical part. Standing a few feet away, Brian took picture after picture of Justin sketching.
The teen glanced up. "What are you doing?"
"Taking pictures of you," snorted Brian. Sometimes Justin asked the dumbest questions.
"Go away. You're bothering me." He returned to his work and Brian took
another shot. "Brian!" He started to rise and Brian moved backwards, still
snapping away. "Stop it." Brian laughed and continued to capture the teen
on film. Justin flipped him the bird and that only made the amateur
photographer laugh harder and take more pictures of his magical fingers.
Looking behind him every now and again to make sure he wasn't about to
trip over a table or chair, Brian fled the advancing teenager, all the
while photographing every shift in emotion. Finally, Justin gave up and
covered his face, his features barely visible between his fingers, and
Brian wanted to tell him his hands were what he'd been interested in
anyway. But instead of talking, he took pictures until Justin came and
pushed the camera away from his face and kissed him.
#4; #5; #6
Pulling away from Brian, eyes sparkling with mischief, Justin crooked his finger and walked backwards towards the bedroom. "Put the camera down," he said, enticement in his voice, echoed by his eyes which had darkened with desire.
"I"ll make it worth your while," Justin promised.
"I like taking pictures of you." Brian paused and added, "The way you draw me when I'm asleep." He snapped another picture. "Why do you wait until I'm asleep?"
"It's the only time when you're ever still. And even then you move around a lot. Plus… " he hesitated, unsure if he should say anything more.
"It's the only time you really let your guard down."
Brian stared at his eyes through the viewing window, aware of the
irony: looking through a window into another set of windows, the windows
to Justin's soul as it were, as the poets so named them, and he imagined
that if he could see the teen's soul it would be as clear as his eyes,
like the sky on a summer day.
#7; #8; #9; #10
Brian having promised him that it would be hot, Justin allowed his lover to bring his camera into their bedroom. In fact, although he tried to hide it, Justin found the idea intensely erotic. Imagining the guy's surprise at the photo lab when he processed the photos. They've probably seen worse, he told himself. Even more stimulating was the thought of Brian pouring over them alone in the loft, getting a hard-on from staring at the pictures of his beautiful boy, his baby. God, Justin loved it when Brian called him baby. Didn't really know why it turned him on so but it did. Even when they were just sitting around, watching TV or something, sometimes Brian would say, "Hand me the paper, baby," if he was closer to it or, "Baby, where's the remote?" and it would make him shiver. It made him feel safe too, protected, the way Gus must have felt whenever his Dadda held him in his arms. Just one word, baby, did all that.
Having shed his clothes, Justin asked, "What do you want me to do?" because Brian's camera had been silent the whole while. As had Brian. Justin neared him and the man put the camera aside. In an instant their mouths joined together. To be able to kiss one another and know that this was just the beginning, that they had years ahead of them, that they'd been lucky enough to find each other in time… it never failed to amaze either of them. Hands sliding over Brian's shoulders, Justin could feel his muscles shift as they moved one against the other. They parted and Justin brushed his lips over the length of Brian's neck.
"Are you sure about this?" asked Brian and the teen licked the hollow of his throat.
He backed away and sat on the bed. "I'm sure." Waiting. Legs spread open in invitation, his cock and balls resting upon the mattress between his thighs.
Eyes never leaving the teen's groin, Brian reached for his camera and photographed his genitals. "Beautiful," he whispered, gaze lingering on his balls, so smooth from their most recent shave. He recalled Justin holding his legs up and apart--no need for the ropes now, unless they were feeling kinky--while he lathered his scrotum, then shaved it clean of the fine, blond hairs that had sprouted since the youth's last barbering. Returning to the present, he told Justin, "Lie on your back."
The teen having complied, Brian stood over him and studied the white expanse of his body and his eyes were drawn to his nipples. Flat, wide circles of pink flesh, like lush oases in the midst of a pale desert. The times he had found nourishment and pleasure there were numerous as he'd traveled the length and breadth of the teen's body. Justin had taken out the nipple ring and replaced it with a silver bar--"Just to see," he had said--and Brian had lapped at the bud no less vehemently because of it, the sensation different but still enjoyable.
The attention Brian was paying to his nipples was starting to affect Justin. Needing to feel Brian's tongue on his flesh, he whispered, "Come here," but Brian shook his head so Justin ran his fingers over his chest himself. A few passes and his nipples began to harden.
"Move your hands," ordered Brian and he charted the gradual change from
soft to semi-erect mounds. It was only then that he put the camera down
and fastened his mouth over the hill of rosy flesh and suckled at Justin's
breasts. Catching hold of the bar in his teeth, Brian repeatedly lapped at
the nipple through which the silver ran, stroking the other with his
fingers. Justin arched his back wanting to feed Brian more of his nipple,
wanting to touch the roof of Brian's mouth with the tip of his tit. Brian
raised his head and went from side to side licking each of the nubs until
they both stood out from Justin's chest. Then he got his camera once more
and committed the image to film.
#11; #12; #13; #14
As Justin watched through narrowed eyes, Brian's focus shifted from the peaks on his chest to his cock which lay lazy over his thigh. Stiffening but not yet hard. Without being told, as Brian photographed his dick, Justin lifted his cock and wrapped his hand around it. Slowly, he began to stroke the shaft, his eyes open, the look of lust on Brian's face feeding his own excitement. As he jacked his meat, he confessed, "Sometimes when I was in class, I would think about you making love to me and I could feel your hands on my cock. Stroking me." A bead of precum appeared at the tip of his dick. Justin tapped his finger against his hole and stretched the precum in a thin line. "Making me hard and wet. I could feel your mouth on me." He rubbed the head of his cock. "Feel your tongue digging in my hole, fucking my dick. And I used to get so hard, I thought my cock would tear through my pants." He moaned and pressed the sides of the bulbous head. More precum bubbled and spilled over the edges. He spread it over his cock until it shone and his fingers were wet and sticky.
Brian was aware of his own erection swaying between his thighs, aware of his growing need to fuck Justin, but he continued to document the teen's jack-off session.
Justin's toes curled as the speed of his strokes increased. His cock expanded in his fist, hard yet soft. That miracle never failed to amaze him and and he often drove Brian to the brink just by holding the man's cock and marveling at the feel of it, hard beneath the soft skin, formidable yet fragile. Turning his head to the side, he moaned and gripped the comforter in one hand while continuing to beat off with the other.
Capturing in loving detail the way Justin's balls drew up along his
shaft, Brian licked his lips and, trying to ignore the demands of his own
cock, made a confession of his own. "I was in a meeting once and I started
to think about you," he said. "I remembered sucking you off on the couch,
the way your dick tasted. The way it swelled inside my mouth. I couldn't
hear anything Ryder was saying cause all I could hear was you moaning
while I went down on you." Justin groaned and tugged on his dick. "Licking
your long, hard shaft... Taking you deep in my throat... Sucking your
balls..." The teen cupped his sac and squeezed it roughly, a cry erupting
from his lips. He remembered it too. The time Brian had swallowed his cum.
"It was fucking incredible. Tasting you in my mouth when you came. You
were so sweet and creamy. I can still taste you on my tongue." Shouting
out, Justin jerked and a line of cum splattered his belly. Brian continued
to talk as he took pictures of Justin coming. "Still feel your cock hard
between my lips." Justin's hand spread cum all along his cock and when he
was finally done, it lay heavy and shiny against his belly, cum dotting
his skin. Brian took a few last pictures and finished the roll. "Fuck
yeah," he whispered. Hands shaking, he replaced the film in his camera and
stood there, unsure what to do next when his little boy decided for him.
#15; #16; #17; #18; #19
Catching his legs behind the knees, Justin drew them up and exposed his hole. Lips parted slightly, Brian immortalized the view, one he was quite familiar with, one of his favorite in fact. Justin turned over and knelt on all fours, then lowered his chest to the bed. Reaching back, he parted his cheeks and waited. Moving closer as he took his shots, Brian stopped when he was able to discern the wrinkles and folds.
Justin's lips tensed and relaxed in anticipation. Brian knelt on the bed behind him and lowered his face between the teen's cheeks. Lovingly unfurled his tongue and lapped the boy's ass from the top of his buttocks to the stretch of flesh that ran from his hole to his balls. "Oh God," he breathed as he tongued his lover. "Oh, baby." Forcing himself to stop, he took a couple shots of the glistening hole. Then he inserted one finger inside Justin and played in his soft, pliable ass until he thought his cock would explode if he didn't fuck him right at that moment. Withdrawing his finger, he took one last photo and dropped the camera to the bed. Ripped open a condom and sheathed his cock. Squirted lube between Justin's cheeks and roughly massaged his hole, then knelt behind him and pushed.
Normally he would have taken the time to really enjoy being inside
Justin but right now all he wanted was to come. Thrusting vigorously
against the teen's ass, Brian fucked him hard, driving his cock home until
a spasm gripped his belly and he came. For a split second afterwards he
felt ashamed; he'd been like an animal, mindlessly rutting, fucking
without the slightest bit of finesse, without any regard for Justin's
needs. And then the boy moaned and whispered, "I want to see." At first
Brian didn't know what he was talking about and then it hit him--hard--and
his mind reeled. When he was able to think clearly again, he withdrew and
reached for the camera. He didn’t know how he’d be able to wait until the
prints came back from the lab to show the teen the photograph of his
#20; #21; #22; #23
Brian traced the line of Justin's spine with his eyes, like a valley that stretched from his shoulder blades to just above his buttocks. The blue neon turned off, Justin's body was bathed in natural light, his skin faintly luminescent. The teen slept, unaware of his lover's scrutiny. Brian took a couple of shots, grateful for the camera's near silent operations. Although Justin slept well, he slept lightly, as if afraid he'd miss something. Sleep was not a retreat for Justin, it was something you did because you had to, because your body eventually gave out but Brian knew the boy considered it to be a huge waste of valuable time that could have been better spent playing "Tomb Raider," or out dancing, or making love.
On the other hand, sleep was seldom restful for Brian and sometimes he longed for the oblivion a deep sleep could bring. Most nights he lay awake for an hour or more with his eyes closed to fool Justin--not that he believed he ever did--hoping to fall asleep, to rest, not to dream, just to lie there unaware of everything, even Justin lying next to him. Not that he was tortured, he was just restless. Maybe Justin was right, too much caffeine. Sometimes he had things on his mind that could probably wait until morning, only he couldn't sleep so he lay awake thinking about them. If he left the bed, Justin would awaken, so he learned to stay in bed and lie still. Listening to Justin breathe. Sometimes he turned ever so slowly and watched Justin sleep, much like he was doing now. Sometimes he thought about times past, reliving moments they had spent together: on vacation in the Bahamas, in that hotel in New York, dancing at Babylon… Sometimes he allowed himself to think about the prom and all that had happened afterwards but it made him so angry and afraid that he didn't do it often. Which made him sad, that the good memories were entwined with the bad because Justin had looked so happy, so beautiful that night. He smiled, feeling him in his arms again as he dipped him. Justin shifted and Brian watched the play of muscles in his back and buttocks. Biting his lip, he fired off another three shots.
Justin rolled over and opened his eyes. "What are you doing?"
"More pictures?" Justin asked, his voice muffled by the towel he was using to dry his hair.
Brian smiled and waited until the golden head emerged from the white cotton cloth to take another shot. He loved that Justin was so fair, his "pretty golden boy" he called him sometimes and he was. So beautiful. Like a ray of sunshine. Deb had been right to name him that. Sunshine to illuminate his darkness. Sometimes he lay in bed, Justin in his arms, and stroked his hair, running his fingers through the short, blond strands, marveling at how soft they were, like silk threads. Should have used color film, he said to himself and then No matter. Even in black and white, the teen's light would blaze forth, brightening the gloomiest of days.
Bending over to put on his jeans, Justin stopped as Brian ordered him to, "Wait. Hold it right there." As he remained bent over, Brian recorded his posterior for posterity as if he hadn't spent ten minutes photographing his behind while the teenager slept. "You've got a great ass," he told Justin.
Imitating Brian's bored tone, the one he used whenever someone told him he was beautiful, Justin replied, "I know," and Brian barked a laugh. Justin had captured his expression perfectly.
Laying the camera on the bed, Brian crossed to Justin and stroked his bare flank. Then popped him on the butt once and left him standing there, pants around his ankles. Only, instead of pulling them up, Justin let them remain where they were, pooled around his feet.
Brian looked back over his shoulder. "Get dressed."
"No," replied Justin, rubbing his ass.
"We're supposed to meet the guys in fifteen minutes." Justin shook his head. "If you don't get dressed right now, I'm gonna take you over my knees and spank you," he threatened, aware of his cock stirring inside of his jeans.
Justin grinned and swayed his hips, the challenge--and invitation--unmistakable.
With a glance at the telephone, hoping it wouldn't ring before they
were through, Brian groaned and carried the camera to the nightstand where
it'd be within reach when it was needed.
#26; #27; #28; #29
Fully dressed, Brian stood to the side of the naked youth, who remained bent over, his pale buttocks in the air, awaiting his punishment. Running his hand over the two plump mounds of flesh, Brian asked, "So, how many do you think you deserve?" He kneaded the teen's ass. "An even dozen maybe?"
Remembering how his butt had stung the last time and then it'd only been ten, Justin suggested, "A half a dozen?"
Brian gripped the back of Justin's neck firmly in one hand, the way a mother cat will gently but tightly grip her kitten's neck to carry him from place to place, and announced, "A dozen." He smacked the teen's behind hard eliciting a cry. "You've been a very bad boy."
"Brian--" Justin began but a second blow cut off his protests.
He smacked him twice more, once on each cheek. "Maybe the next time," two more blows, "when I say get dressed--"
"Ow!" His ass was getting warm.
Again he struck him. "You'll get dressed." And one final smack before releasing him and reaching for his camera.
"You said twelve," Justin moaned, his behind stinging.
As he photographed his lover's red cheeks, Brian asked, "You want the other four?"
Of course, not only was his butt stinging but his penis was stirring as well. Maybe four more licks were just what he needed. Before he could answer, Brian had drawn back and delivered a solid blow to his ass. Justin cried out in pain and surprise. "One more," he begged and Brian slapped him again.
Justin's dick was stiffening. "Again." Brian swatted him for an eleventh time and waited. "Do it," Justin whispered and braced himself for the last blow. It came hard and fast, the sound loud in the quiet apartment. Afterwards, Brian caressed his sore behind and he moaned, the pleasure warring with the pain. Moving behind him, Brian rubbed his groin against Justin's ass, the rough material of his jeans abrading the tender skin. "Shit!" exclaimed Justin and he hissed as Brian continued to hump him, his own cock responding to the harsh treatment by growing harder. He reached down and stroked himself.
"You want it?" Brian asked giving him a strong thrust.
"I want it," he replied, shivering, and the sooner the better.
#30; #31; #32; #33
Justin had given him just enough time to position the camera on the tripod in front of the cabinet at the foot of the bed and set the timer before dragging him down onto the comforter and pulling off his jeans. Even then the teen didn't pull them off completely, just down around his ankles and off one foot, the other foot still entangled in the denium. Justin sucked on his cock for a few minutes, returning the rough treatment of his ass, running the shaft and sensitive head over his unshaven cheeks. Even though the hairs were fairly short and fine, the sensation caused Brian to cry out anyway.
Kneeling over Brian's groin, Justin held his lover's cock in place and eased onto it. He'd barely slipped on the condom and slathered on the lube before the urge to be fucked had completely supplanted all rational thought. When he was completely impaled, he leaned back on his arms and began working his ass up and down the rigid shaft. Brian's hand roamed his chest, pinching his nipples, stroking his belly; wrapping around his cock and sliding along the length of it, tightening about the head and coaxing him to grow harder.
Head thrown back, mouth open, he rode his lover's dick, feeling the head press against the walls of his asshole as it plumbed the depths of him, the shaft stretching him open wider and wider as it expanded with each thrust. This was what he craved, nights when he lay alone in his bed, a quarter of a city between them, wanting his lover so badly he sometimes got the urge to open the window and shout, "Brian!" into the night, knowing that the man would hear him no matter the distance. This was what he could feel, in the middle of the day as he bused tables at the diner, so hot that he wanted to strip down and pour ice water all over his body, anything to cool the fever that raged through him.
As Justin ground his hips against his groin, Brian pumped up into him and jacked him off. To feel the teen's cock throb in his hands, to caress and stroke his sac was like touching his own, was like masturbating and fucking at the same time. Justin moaned and precum beaded at the tip of his cock. Brian rubbed his finger in the sticky liquid and massaged it onto the swollen head and he could feel his hand around the head of his own cock and it made him cry out and squeeze his eyes shut, colors swirling behind his lids. God, he could fuck Justin three times a day for the rest of his life and he didn't think he'd ever tire of it. Of being buried in the warmth of his body. Being inside Justin made him feel hot, yes, but it also made him feel safe. Comforted. As if this was where he belonged. And it was. Justin's muscles tightened around him and then the teen moaned, "I'm coming."
Tugging on his sac and cock, pulling them in opposite directions, Brian said, "Come on, baby." The teen gave a choked cry and, after a moment more, exploded in Brian's hands. Having come that afternoon the flow wasn't prodigious but the sensation was just as intense as before. Justin's entire body stiffened and then slumped against Brian, totally drained and exhausted.
Brian had slipped out of him and now his penis lay hard between their bodies, wanting release. Raising up, Justin reached down and removed the condom, then encircled the turgid shaft with his fingers and jerked on it. Repeatedly, Justin stroked Brian until he felt the man tense beneath him and heard a sharp intake of breath. Neck bared, teeth clenched, Brian came, wetting the teen's palm and fingers. Gently, soothingly, Justin smoothed his lover's cock until it rested easy in his hand.
And the camera had recorded it all.
#34; #35; #36
Having bathed for the second time in two hours, they slipped on their robes and lay curled together on the couch, like two foxes in a den. Since they'd given up on dinner with the guys, they finally stirred in order to whip up something in the kitchen. Actually, Justin whipped up something while Brian watched and kept him company and peeled whatever needed peeling. To Brian, Justin's hands were no less magical when he cooked. And his smile… he always seemed to smile when he cooked; even when he was deep in concentration, a wisp of a smile played about his lips. Wanting to capture the moment, Brian got his camera and took a couple of shots. Far from being annoyed, Justin made a request. "I want a picture of us."
Thinking of the session in bed, Brian replied, "We'll have some."
"I mean ones we can show people," Justin explained, the tips of his ears turning red.
"We have the ones from the Bahamas," pointed out Brian.
"Ones of us at home."
Brian smiled. Us at home… Who would have ever thought…?
So after dinner they dressed in sweaters and jeans and picked a spot in
the livingroom-on the couch-turned on extra lights and set up the camera
on its tripod again. Justin perched between Brian's thighs on the edge of
the sofa, his lover's arms around him, and smiled so brightly Brian
wondered if they really needed the extra lights. After a moment, not a
second too soon, he smiled as well, mouthing, "Baby," just as the camera
It was looking at the last pictures of them together on the sofa that
did it. Leaving the photos on the coffee table, Brian grabbed his coat and
keys. They'd just have to do without the teenager for fifteen minutes or
so. He was not going to be denied his baby any longer.
Justin dropped the bags of trash into the can and debated carrying it down the alley to where the garbage truck made its pickup and decided against it. Plenty of time to do it tomorrow. He was just about to step back around the corner of the house when he felt someone in the darkness with him. His heart skipped a beat and then calmed. He knew who it was. Would have known immediately if he hadn't been busy at the time. As his lover's arms snaked around him he asked, "What are you doing here?" By way of answer, Brian unzipped the teen's jeans and pulled them over his hips. "Out here?" Brian pushed down his sweats and his erection brushed against Justin's buttock. Feeling the wet head, knowing that he had driven over here with a hard-on, Justin sighed and waited for Brian to take him. Which he did as soon as he could slip on a condom and lube them both. As Brian thrust into him, Justin wondered what had set him off and then, as Brian found his spot, he realized that he didn't give a shit. Not right at that moment.
Deb's voice cut through the darkness. "Justin! What are you doing out there?" She was standing in the doorway, not twenty feet away.
Catching his breath, Justin replied, "Fucking!"
Behind him, Brian laughed abruptly and grunted. His baby…
There was a pause, then, "Well, tell Brian to come inside and have some pie when you're done. That is if he wants anything else after having you."
Spreading his hand over the teen's strong back, feeling his smooth
skin, gazing down at his beautiful body, Brian answered silently,
No. He didn't want anything else at all.
** The series of color woodblock prints, "Thirty-Six Views of Mt. Fuji"
were done by Japanese printmaker Katsushika Hokusai in the 1800's. The
series consists of forty-six prints: the original set of thirty-six plus a
supplement set of ten. For more information on "Thirty-Six Views of Mt.
Fuji" and Katsushika Hokusai, visit the Los
Angeles County Museum of Art site.