It all started by my corresponding with a photographer and complimenting him on the great shots heíd taken of some Polish stud. After a few friendly exchanges via internet I asked him how he managed to find such great men. He told me he had two assistants who acted as Ďtalent scoutsí in sport clubs and swimming pools and other places of Ďculturalí interest. He told me that 90% of his models were straight but open minded and that, in his experience, a good looking guy is usually ready to show off his body to a professional photographer as long as you offer him a reasonable fee and donít come on too strong. His vanity always overcomes his shyness and he soon gets turned on by the whole affair and is up for grabs, especially if there are no available women around.
Sounded great to me but I didnít have any young assistants and most straight men Iíd approached had always bristled and bucked and threatened to punch me on the nose, especially in sport clubs and swimming pools and other places of Ďculturalí interest. But fortunately I remembered what my friend had said about appealing to their vanity and getting them undressed in front of the camera. My chance came when I met Rick although I didnít recognize it as such immediately so, at first, I didnít take the bull by its glorious horns. After all, I think youíll agree with me that opportunities tend to creep up on you when youíre not looking, or are maybe looking in the wrong direction.
Iíd known him for quite some time, as he was a delivery boy in our office. He was more than just a boy actually and must have been at least twenty-five although being blond and slender he looked much younger. And he was very much married. In fact, he was always talking about his wife, which is one of the reasons I didnít take him seriously. Iím a graphic artist and work for an international company. Once he had leaned over my shoulder to watch me perfecting a composite photo, which included Brad Pitt. He didnít look unlike Brad Pitt himself and said his wife was crazy about him. Which figures. Maybe thatís why she married him. Anyway, we didnít use the photo so I gave him a copy of it. He came in next day to thank me. Said his wife was overjoyed.
I was getting pretty overjoyed too. Especially as he started dropping by more frequently. Partly I think because he seemed to welcome the air-conditioning. He said he got pretty hot carrying heavy parcels around all day. Sometimes, I must admit, he smelt a bit. But it was a heady combination of musk and masculine perspiration and the mix was not at all unpleasant. In fact, it made me horny as hell. Thatís when I started thinking of him as a serious proposition.
Soon I was timing my coffee breaks to coincide with his visits and inviting him to join me. Over the next few months, we advanced from buddy-buddy talk about the latest ball game to news of his wifeís pregnancy. He told me that sheíd gone to stay with her mother and had left him Ďholding the fortí as he put it. We were both a little shy about declaring our friendship but he did invite me over for a beer one evening. It turned out to be the same day I had a rush order and had to work overtime. We exchanged phone numbers. As easy as that. I phoned him later that week and invited him to my place. Nothing could have seemed more natural but my heart was racing at the thought of it. I didnít want to send him scuttling out the door by letting him see I had the hots for him.
I was smoking some hash when he arrived. Accidentally on purpose. I also carefully scattered a few girlie magazines around as sprats to catch his mackerel. I knew he was probably feeling the absence of his wife and wondered just how far he would be willing to stray from home. Until now, Iíd given him no inkling I was gay but he must have had his suspicions. But by now I was past caring. It was only a small step from graphic to pornographic art and I wanted him spaced out and turned on.
"Thanks," he said as I handed him a joint, "I haven't had any of this in the longest time."
He picked up one of the magazines and started thumbing through it.
"Havenít had any of this either," he sighed.
I made no comment. Just took a long drag on the joint and handed it back to him.
He reached the centerfold and turned it round for me to see.
I nodded. What else could I do?
"This place is nice too."
Any minute now heís going to ask me why Iím not married I thought but he was studying the main feature with pictures of a male and female couple going at it literally hell for leather. It was hot.
"Wow," he said, "Some fellas get all the luck."
"Get paid for it too," I said.
He studied the pictures a bit longer and then laid the magazine aside. He stood up, a bit shaky on his pins, and reached down under his belt to adjust himself. His dick was tenting his pants.
"That's better," he said, "Fucking pot always makes me horny. Always gives me a third leg."
"Me too," I said, longing to change gear with it. "Whatís a guy to do?"
He didnít answer my rhetorical question but asked another instead.
"Whatís he got that I havenít got?" he said sinking back down onto the sofa.
I was tempted to say, "It remains to be seen" but fortunately controlled myself.
He flipped through a few more magazines and lay back deep in thought.
"Youíre in the business," he said. "Couldnít you get me in on something like this?"
"What about your wife?" I asked pertinently.
"She doesnít have to know. Anyway sheíll be busy with the baby."
"Think youíve got the body and the stamina for it?" I said, handing him another joint.
"Sure, women are trying to pick me up all the time. Men too."
I kept a low profile on that one. Meanwhile he seemed to be mulling something over.
"Couldnít you take some photos of me?" he asked at last.
There was another little lag in our conversation before I said, "Yes, I guess so."
"Wanna see what Iíve got on offer?" he said standing up again.
I knew he was stoned but didnít want to refuse such a devil-sent opportunity. Anyway he didnít wait for a reply but began to unbutton his shirt. It was a deliberate, almost sensual act and I was a willing spectator. I reached out for my digital camera. He had what a famous soap powder company refers to as a whiter-than-white t-shirt, which contrasted nicely with his sun-tanned body. He tossed his shirt casually on a chair and as he did so sent me fragrant whiffs of that familiar smell of musk and masculinity that had first turned me on. He had some difficulty pulling the tight t-shirt over his head and in the interim I got a full eyeful of his pits. I immediately wanted to bury my nose in them and lick the sweat from them. And as he let his t-shirt fall lightly to the floor I was nearly falling on the floor myself. It was a miracle I shot as many photos as I did without actually shooting my load. It was the horniest strip tease I had ever been fortunate enough to witness and I wondered just how much of it was spontaneous and how much direct provocation.
He had a terrific body. The kind that should never wear clothes. His nips and his pecs sat on perfect abs and, as his hand went for the belt and loosened it, I knew I was in for the nicest lump of meat I had seen displayed in any store window. He was wearing white cotton briefs but they were fighting a losing battle with a raging hard-on brought on by the pot and pornographic photos. His awesome cock was pointing upward and its pink mushroom head seemed to be trying to burst its way through the fabric, which had taken on a transparent effect from the pre-cum seeping from it. The air seemed as thick as his dick. I found I was having trouble breathing.
I couldn't take my eyes off him and couldnít wait to get my hands on him either but didnít want to break the magic spell we had created between us. It was the nearest Iíd ever got to intercourse without actually having sex. High as he was I knew he felt it too. Several minutes passed before either of us said anything. He was the first to speak. "Are you getting some good shots?" he said.
His voice was husky almost as if he were turning himself on.
"Yes," I said. "Thanks."
Then, after another pregnant pause, "Could you take the rest off? Theyíll want to see that too."
There was a horny hiatus while he considered it then he slowly lowered his shorts and pushed them down to his knees. His cock joyously jumped to freedom but his scrotum was tight as a kettledrum. It had crinkled up like a walnut with the sexual tension we had created between us but, man, those nuts were full to bursting, just crying for attention. After staring me straight in the eye for a bit, as if waiting for me to take the initiative, he suddenly turned round and reached for his shorts again. As he bent forward, I gasped at the beauty of his ass and the little pink hole that seemed to wink at me.
"Sorry, man," he said. "I don't know what came over me. Fucking pot, I guess."
He tried to tuck his nine-incher back in his briefs as best he could.
I couldnít resist the horny sight of him any longer and reached out to touch him.
"Let me help with that," I said.
As I caressed him through the cotton, I sensed his weakened resolve, brought on by the loosening effect of the pot, but he tensed up again as soon as he realized exactly what I was offering.
"Hey, I'm married, remember?"
But he made no move to stop me.
"I remember," I said, half to myself. "But you also said your wife doesnít have to know."
That seemed to satisfy him for a moment and that moment seemed timeless. I brought my face in line with his crotch and let my forehead softly brush the hard shaft. The heat there went straight to my brain. I pressed my head harder against it. I felt it stiffen, pressing back, hard bone against hard bone. Then he tried to resist me once more. To distract him I let my hand wander over his six-pack and come to rest on one of his pecs. I felt the nipple grow erect. I squeezed it with my fingertips, tweaking it and rubbing it. He groaned in approval and threw his head back.
"That feels good," he said.
I wasn't sure if he was referring to the finger play, or my face in his crotch, so I let my other hand travel upward too while my nose nuzzled his nuts. He scooted his hips further forward so I knew I was on the right track. I rubbed my way slowly up his shaft, my face getting wet with his pre-cum. He squirmed some more and began to breath more heavily. Small groans and moans gave evidence that he was beginning to forget he was married. He hadnít said a word but he was urging me on. I felt his hands on either side of my head, holding me in place as he gyrated his hips, sliding his rock hard dick across my face slowly and deliberately now. It had become even more rigid and swollen, thicker, within the last minute or so. My lips parted hungrily and I could taste his secretions through the thin cotton of his briefs. A low groan formed in his throat and rose in quick crescendo as he held my head firmly against him and spasmed and jerked repeatedly. My nostrils flared with the musky smell of him and my teeth tore at his briefs so that when he eventually came I had swallowed him whole and was sucking at him in a frenzy like a dog getting all the juice it could from a bone.
When he finally let loose of my head and let his arms drop limply beside his quivering body, I lowered him to the floor and stretched out beside him. I wanted to say many things to him but after Iíd cleared my throat and wiped his mouth with my mouth it all seemed strangely superfluous. Our body language had said it all. In shredding his pants with my teeth Iíd shed the last vestige of any shame he might have had still clinging to him about having sex with another man. The part of him that gave and received love had opened wide and understood exactly what heíd been missing.
I realized I should have read between the lines long ago. All that talk about his wife had just been a smoke screen to tell me he was hot for me. After a while he confirmed what Iíd been thinking.
"That was great. I never imagined it would be so hot. I'd been aching for you to suck me off."
I thought of how I had longed for this moment and how afraid I'd been to approach him. Now it all seemed so silly and futile. Nearly a year wasted in averted looks and idle chatter. I remembered the strangeness and shyness between us but fortunately something stronger had intervened. The mutual attraction we felt for each other. Cum to think of it, heíd probably have been mine one day without the pot and the porno but I knew that the extra shove Iíd given him in Ďappealing to his vanityí had pushed him over the edge and removed any lingering doubts he might have had.
He made love to me that night in a way that changed my life forever. It changed his too. Each touch seemed to be another truth uncovered and another promise made that could never be broken. Soon, of course, he had to go back to his wife and be a father to his baby but when we were alone together he was my baby and I cherished him. It took him a little time to give up his cherry and give in to me completely but I appealed directly to his vanity and when I told him what a beautiful ass he had and how it made my dick sing he let me tune in to it and we made the sweetest music together.
Actually I exaggerate a bit. He howled like a heifer in heat but it was all grist to my mill and I soon ground his butt to shreds. It didnít take him long to orchestrate me either and I made some barnyard noises myself as he packed all that meat inside me. In fact I honked like a duck. Or a goose being fattened up for Christmas. But as I told you before, he was a font of pre-cum and natural lubrication and our nut-to-butt sessions were magnificent and memorable.
I think youíll agree with me that one of the greatest sexual kicks you can get is when you manage to avail yourself of the unavailable. Thereís a lot of prime steak out there on the human meat market. Too often, though, itís stored away under the counter where you canít see it or way out of reach on the top shelf. Worse still, it may still be in the icebox so you have to spend a lot of time thawing it out. But the long wait is worth it.
And, as I say, you can always hurry the process along by appealing to a guyís vanity.
The Badpuppy.com model in these pictures is Luke
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