Sometimes the laws of nature and the laws of the land just don't coincide or at the very best are not compatible. I mean if you're faced with a horny teenage twink who's trying to get into your pants and you're wise enough to wait two months for him to turn eighteen then you're out of the woods. On the other hand, if you're foolish enough to go weak at the knees and succumb to his seductive charms, for most people you're nothing more than a pedophile and a pederast and you can end up being burned at the stake.

It's a very sensitive subject and maybe not one to touch, especially with the recent page-boy scandal in Washington. Therefore I found myself faced with something of a dilemma when I was asked to take photos of a neighbour's nephew.

I knew he was seventeen going on eighteen as I'd seen him out running and on the sports field and my wife was friendly with his aunt. He was an accomplished young athlete but looked about fifteen or sixteen. Definitely too young for me even if I'd admitted to being that way inclined and laws against teenage molestation didn't exist.

But I was a professional photographer and he came my way so to speak.

His aunt wanted to give him a present for his eighteenth birthday. A photo album showing off his various accomplishments on the playing field and in the gym. I'd built up quite a reputation in the five years I'd gone freelance and for his aunt only the best was good enough for Dennis.

His uncle was a bit of a sportsman too and had his own gymnasium in the basement of the house. He was a wealthy banker and money was no object so I was offered a ridiculous fee which I could not afford to refuse although I put up a fight at the beginning. In fact my initial protestations must have had a lot to do with the fee going so sky high. Banker Barnes wouldn't take no for an answer. Probably one reason he was rich and successful.

You might ask why I didn't jump at the chance to cash in on other people's vanity. One reason was I didn't really like taking photos of children and therefore wasn't very good at it and another was I had a sneaking feeling Dennis meant trouble. After all why else would he have the same name as Dennis the Menace. There was something precocious and 'knowing' about him in spite of his tender years. Seems a lot of rich kids have this in common. Too much too soon and all that.

Anyway we met on a sunny day in September and I took a roll or two of him in his tracksuit and showing off his prowess with the football. The shots were mostly standard and boring as he didn't inspire me at all. Still even my worst is light years better than other photographers' best so Alice Barnes was very pleased with the first proofs. She invited my wife and I to dinner and Eric Barnes couldn't wait to show us his expensively equipped workout room in the basement. He suggested I take some shots of Dennis on the ropes and the vaulting horse. Even with weights if I thought that was appropriate. Whatever. In fact, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes couldn't do enough for me.

Neither it turned out could Dennis. He just loved showing off. And not only to the camera.

I felt much more at home in the privacy of the workout room which in some ways resembled my photographic studio. During the day I was able to take advantage of the light streaming through the window and in the late afternoons brought some lamps along to cast shadows in all the right places. I wanted to give Mr. and Mrs. B. a selection of b/w and colored photos. After two or three sessions I had more than enough suitable shots for the birthday book. I had a lot of unsuitable ones too.

As I mentioned before, Dennis loved showing off his accomplishments to me and these included a ten-inch prick and the cutest little teenage ass I ever did see. My lens virtually lapped him up. Of course I told myself I was taking 'artistic' photos and there was no harm in that.

But I forgot to tell myself that a twenty-seven year old man who wasn't yet out of the closet had no business taking hot shots of a twink ten years his junior. That didn't seem to bother Dennis too much as he was determined to seduce me right from day one. Not that I let him. Even on day three. But nobody looking at the photos would believe that.

They say every picture tells a story and I wish this one was long enough for me to show you every picture I took of Dennis. Still if we're lucky, and they post this, you'll at least get to see some of them. As I said they were not what I originally intended but that wasn't my fault.

It all started when he took off his track suit to shin up the ropes. He was wearing what initially looked like some very conservative over-large yellow boxers but these came complete with an over-large slit which had a tendency to open wide as Dennis displayed his prowess with the ropes. His legs would open wide as he climbed and the slit would open even wider. Then when he sat astride the vaulting horse to pose for some close-ups something extremely over-large for one so young and slim tented his boxers in a very conspicuous way. We both knew that part of his thick prick was trying to peep through but we both pretended it wasn't. Still my camera began to develop a mind of its own and took more close-ups of the tantalising slit than of Dennis's tantalising face.

All the time I acted as if nothing was amiss and the little bastard aided and abetted me. I mean what made the photos really exciting was the knowing face above the 'innocent' body. After getting myself very hot and bothered and almost steaming up my lens I thanked him very much and said, "That's all for today."

"Just a few more," he begged slipping out of his boxers and, foolhardy fool that I was, I let him.

He did a horizontal handstand on the vaulting horse and his fair flesh contrasted so beautifully with the polished brown leather that it was a photo in a million. Then he showed me his vertical side, sitting with his dick almost touching his chin.

"You'd better put that away before you lose it," I said to cover my embarrassment.

"Where can I put it?" he asked with a cheeky smile on his cock-teasing face. "I'm naked."

I didn't answer and an intimate silence grew between us interrupted only by the steady click of the camera. If you've ever taken photos of anyone naked then you'll know that 'intimate' is closely followed by 'erotic'. Outwardly cool I took photo after photo of him posing provocatively on the vaulting horse when actually I was very hot under the proverbial collar and it was all I could do not to horse-vault him.

He was a natural model and should make a fortune as a porno star if he doesn't make it as an athlete. He gave me all the right angles. And positions. In fact he was a photographer's dream although for me he was turning into a wet nightmare. I was sweating profusely and also had a serious case of seepage. It was high time to pack up shop and rush to the bathroom.

But he continued to fascinate me. Especially when he did a gentle jerk off for the camera. Or was it for me? By now I wasn't sure where my camera ended and I began.

Sex was just beginning to rear its horny head when we heard his aunt's voice on the stairs asking if we'd like some lemonade.

Dennis slipped smoothly back into his XL lemon boxers. Instantly composed.

My hands and my legs on the other hand were shaking like autumn leaves about to fall off the tree.

And I felt as guilty as if I'd sinned. Which I suppose theoretically I had.

Don't ask me why but the Biblical story of Potiphar's wife flew into my head.

And we all know where that story ended.

"When can I see the photos?" he asked as we walked upstairs.

"On your birthday." I said.

"Even the ones in my birthday suit," he laughed.

"I'll give you a sneak preview of those after you're eighteen." I promised him.

I promised myself too. Who knows I might even take some more and see where that leads.