Pretty Canadian
I met a pretty Canadian boy. I was out drinking with Nick and Mike, Saturday night. Nick was off after some older guy who had an enormous cock, apparently.
“This big!” Nick held his hands out a metre apart. “And I plan to be squatting on that before the night is out.”
Mick was chatting up some girl. “She’s got great tits, don’t you think?”
“Meh.” The gay boys looked away.
Nick wandered off.
The Canadian guy and I just happened to end up standing next to each other and got talking. “You come here often?”
“Seriously?” I replied.
“What?” He feigned his best innocent face. Adorable.
“That line.”
“Why not? It got you talking, and smiling, didn’t it.”
“What’s your name.
“I’m Andrew.”
“I’m Josh,” I said. “What’s the accent?”
“Canadian. Why?”
“Oh, American is problematic,” I said “Do you come here often?
“Shouldn’t you know?” asked Andrew. “I presume you are a local?”
“I am,” I said. “But while there aren’t that many of us here, we’re spread out so it is harder for us to keep track than you, apparently, give us credit?”
He laughed. He was pretty. “It’s my first time here, and my first time away from Canada.”
“Oh, a virgin?” I’m not sure where that came from, I’m blaming it on too many beers.”
“A down under virgin,” he said. And there was that glorious smile once again.
We were both pretty pissed by the late stages of the night. I’d got sick of feeling like a wall flower standing by the bar by myself, as if, waiting for my boyfriend to return. Oh yes, boo hoo. The things you think, as you find yourself on your own uncharacteristically at the bar. That's not normally me, and this is usually somebody else altogether, of whom I don't take much notice.
“What do you do?” he asked.
"I'm a photographer," I said. I don’t really know why. I just wanted to be something else. Late, and drunk, at a bar you can be anybody you like. Stupid really.
People are much happier with an interesting occupation, a lawyer is a downer, and it kind of throws them, makes them ask for advice on even the stupidest legal issues.
"What do you photograph?" he asked.
It was a spur of the moment decision and clearly, I hadn’t thought it through, and I’m sure my hesitating answer was building my credibility.
“You have the prettiest eyes,” I said. It was a desperate grab for time.
He blush-smiled coyly there in the dim bar light.
My immediate thought was him, I wanted to photograph him, but, I stopped myself from saying that. “People, places, something of the real world that catches my eye.” It was true, that is what I like to photograph. And the old adage stands, if you are going to tell a lie, stick as close as you can to the truth.
“The beauty in things…” It was true. “In a moment…" Smile, shrug. "Through the lens."
“It sounds interesting.”
“Men, of course.” Raised my hands in the air, quizzical look.
Fuck, I thought, can I pull this one off?
"Oh," he said. Smile. "And how do you find them?"
"How do I find them?" Always repeat the question back to your subject if you are making it up on the fly. It’s a good time gaining device.
"Yes, how does someone audition?"
"Well?" I laughed to myself, as to how I was going to put this. "You take off some of your clothes." I said it deliberately, as though I was asking him to get naked.
"Oh," he said. His eyes widened. "So, no great secret to it then."
“No,” I said. “No rocket science used here.”
His mouth bent into that gorgeous smile, as his eyebrows bent upward. My smile felt like my pissed version, I’m sure.
I smiled and held his eyes. I laughed. "You... wanting to audition?"
He smiled. His sparkling eyes held mine. I got the sense that he liked the idea. I’d got his attention. He blushed and took a swig from his schooner. His intent eyes remained with him. He was very handsome. Brown hair, blue eyes and a gorgeous smile.
I took a swig of my beer, deliberately not talking, so as to leave the last thing I said just hanging between us.
"So,... how do you find these guys?"
I shrugged. "In bars."
He smiled nervously. "Is it hard?"
"Yeah, it needs to be."
He blushed bright beetroot. I wondered if he was getting a boner from this talk? "No, to find… what would you call them?"
"Models?"
"Yes, models."
"No. I've found that the one thing guys aren't shy about is getting their photos taken, you know, everyone wants to be a super model."
"Oh, really?"
"Yep, really. No problem."
"You make it sound easy."
“Well? I wouldn’t, exactly, say easy, but it is easier than it sounds. It helps to get them pissed.” I smiled.
He smiled.
“Another beer?” I said.
I raised my hand to get the bar tenders attention.
“Sure.” He laughed kind of self consciously. “Oh.” He laughed again and then looked up and down the bar as if to see if anyone was watching us.
“Two schooners, please.”
“No, seriously,” said Andrew. “It can’t be that easy, can it?”
“Usually,” I said. “You know, no more effort than asking, really.” I shrugged. “Because the ones who aren’t going to agree, are long gone before I even realise I got turned down. The others.” I shrugged, again. And smiled.
“Really.” He licked his lips, I’m not sure he even realised.
“Candy… from… a baby.”
We sipped from our beers. “Do you think you could skull one of these?”
“No,” said Andrew. He looked at the glass. “Oh… maybe.” He looked at it some more. “No… I reckon I could.”
Then he downed the rest of his schooner.
“I only live up the road, why don’t you come back to my place with me?” I downed my beer and gave him time to think.
“Okay,” he said.
We left the bar together. I felt that feeling of picking up, as we manoeuvred the punters on the footpaths with beers and cigarettes.
We walked towards my place. Andrew looked so sexy walking along with me. Nice legs, nice arse, a nice straight back. I thought about his hairy chest and stomach.
“You’ve never done this before?”
“No, never.”
Never. “Why did you tonight?”
“You gave me just enough beer.”
Gave him enough beer.
It was quiet out, the streets were pretty much empty.
“Have you got dark pubes?” yeah, sure, I was pissed.
“Yes.” He smiled back at me, at the cheek of the question.
“You hairy or not hairy?”
“What qualifies as hairy?”
“Hairy chest, hairy stomach, hairy legs.”
“Then, I guess I’m hairy.”
“Cut, or uncut?”
“Uncut.”
“Tight foreskin, loose foreskin?”
“Well… I don’t know? I can move it up and down freely, but it’s not like a bat’s wing hanging off.”
“Hairy arse?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like playing with your balls?”
“Me playing with my own balls?”
“Yes.”
“Sure.”
“Are your nipples really sensitive?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Are you getting hard with some of these questions?”
“Yeah. A bit. He knows we are talking about him. You are deliberately trying to excite me.”
“Would you let me suck your cock?”
“I thought it was just photos,” said Andrew. “With you telling me how sexy I am.”
“I want you to have a hardon when I photo you,” I said. “Are you hard already?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever let a guy play with it?”
“No… not yet.”
We got to my gate in the depth of the night. I reached for the gate. I leaned in and invaded his space. “Would you?”
“I thought it was just photos.” He slurred as he spoke.
I pushed the gate open. “Yes, photos.” I pointed with my whole hand. “Just photos.” I smiled. “After you.”
He looked at the house. He looked back at me, nervously. He looked back at the front door. “Thanks… Yes… Sure.”
I followed him in.
“Nice house,” he said. “Do you live here on your own?”
“No, I live with my brother… who is away for the weekend.”
“Oh,” said Andrew.
He stood in the middle of the lounge room with his hands in his back pockets looking nervous.
"Do you want a beer?
"Sure."
I went to the kitchen and got the drinks. I was more than a bit excited, I have to say. I was light on my feet with intention.
“What kind of camera do you use?”
“A Cannon.”
I put some soft music on and Andrew relaxed and sat down with his beer. It was the first time I got to see the bulge in his pants, you know, framed so well. It looked good. Nice.
"So..." said Andrew.
I got my camera and pulled the pouf up in front of him.
"We should do some test shots?"
"Okay." He smiled. “You should direct me like a photo shoot.”
I could see the soft pours in his face, as I sat close to him.
I took a couple of shots.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Why don't you take off your shirt?"
"Oh. Okay." He slipped his shirt off.
He did have a nice hairy chest, the hair grew down his stomach and disappeared under the waistband of his pants. Dark. Just how I like them.
"Good. Nice."
"Thanks."
"You're in shape. Do you do gym work?"
"I try to three times a week."
"It shows."
"Thanks."
"Why don't you move your hands to your sides."
He did and I got a clear shot of his sexy chest, his flat stomach, and the bulge in his pants. I was nervous and excited all at the same time.
"That's sexy."
He smiled back at me.
“Slide your hands into the pockets of your pants so your underwear elastic shows.”
Kelvin Cline. Classic.
"Slide a hand into your pants, as though you are playing with yourself."
His hand slid under the waistband of his pants.
"Yeah. Good." He looked good. "Make a fist."
In the dim light, his dark hair and three day growth made him look like a Greek god.
"Unzip your pants and lay them open."
His pants came apart, so I could see the elastic of his white jocks. I love that look. Pants open either side with a jagged fly outlining the sides, with the soft elastic of underwear cutting across the lower abdomen creating a tease.
The hair on his stomach thickened up where it me his underwear.
I was boning up.
I stopped for a millisecond and thought how easy this had been. Here I have the prettiest guy lying back in my easy chair with his pants undone and his considerable assets nearly on show. Teasing me with the anticipation.
"That's great, Andrew. You are a natural at this."
Click, click. Click, click.
I got my tripod so I could take shots in low light.
He didn't know what to do with his hands, and he just sat there with them right out of the way, so he was on full display.
I wanted to see him just in his jocks, that is the sexist look.
"Why don't you slip your pants off?"
He slid his pants down his legs tentatively. Then he lay back just in his jocks, and he looked hot. He had on Kalvin's Y fronts, they looked hot on him. His hairy legs stopped at the leg elastic and his hairy stomach appeared out of the top elastic and grew up his stomach. There is something really sexy about a man just in his jocks showing it all off.
“Spread your legs.”
His thick thighs moved apart and his underwear fell down in a semi circular bulge.
“Nice. Nice bulge.”
“Thanks.” He absentmindedly rubbed it. Click, click. That was hot.
He had big balls bulging in the white cotton. His cock lying to the right, straight across, kind of a bit hard, I was sure. He was lean and toned and hairy. Just gorgeous.
"Can you pull the material up a bit and off your cock."
"Like this?"
"Yes, just like that."
The material became loose and his thick, could be seen lying in the material, like a sausage.
Click sounded my camera, I was getting good shots.
"Pull you jocks down over your balls."
Black pubes. Thick shaft. Semi hard, waving around snake like in mid air. Red knob. Beautiful flesh. Unseen flesh. Forbidden flesh. Always hidden… big balls. Thick thighs. Purple scrotum. Nearly erect hardon laying across to the left of his abdomen.
It was beautiful.
I could look from Andrew’s handsome face, to his hard penis, just like that, at a tilt of the head.
Click, click. Click, click.
He took it in his right hand and started to rub it, once it was hard.
Click, click. Click, click.
He reached for the lube.
“Not too much, I don’t want to see it in the photos.”
He made a fist around his big, hard cock and ran his hand up and down. Twitch of the mouth. Up and down. Smile. Up and down. Closed eye concentration. Up and down a little harder. Eyes open. Abandon. Up and down. Up and down.
Click, click. Click, click.
Randy Crawford sand in the back ground, Everything must change.
I learnt that pretty Canadian boy’s cum freely and in big amounts.
He gave me his email address to send the shots too. You should see some of them. The cum shots. Droplets caught midair. I wrote DTM on the envelope. It was our kind of joke. Don’t tell mama.
We became Facebook friends too.
“This big!” Nick held his hands out a metre apart. “And I plan to be squatting on that before the night is out.”
Mick was chatting up some girl. “She’s got great tits, don’t you think?”
“Meh.” The gay boys looked away.
Nick wandered off.
The Canadian guy and I just happened to end up standing next to each other and got talking. “You come here often?”
“Seriously?” I replied.
“What?” He feigned his best innocent face. Adorable.
“That line.”
“Why not? It got you talking, and smiling, didn’t it.”
“What’s your name.
“I’m Andrew.”
“I’m Josh,” I said. “What’s the accent?”
“Canadian. Why?”
“Oh, American is problematic,” I said “Do you come here often?
“Shouldn’t you know?” asked Andrew. “I presume you are a local?”
“I am,” I said. “But while there aren’t that many of us here, we’re spread out so it is harder for us to keep track than you, apparently, give us credit?”
He laughed. He was pretty. “It’s my first time here, and my first time away from Canada.”
“Oh, a virgin?” I’m not sure where that came from, I’m blaming it on too many beers.”
“A down under virgin,” he said. And there was that glorious smile once again.
We were both pretty pissed by the late stages of the night. I’d got sick of feeling like a wall flower standing by the bar by myself, as if, waiting for my boyfriend to return. Oh yes, boo hoo. The things you think, as you find yourself on your own uncharacteristically at the bar. That's not normally me, and this is usually somebody else altogether, of whom I don't take much notice.
“What do you do?” he asked.
"I'm a photographer," I said. I don’t really know why. I just wanted to be something else. Late, and drunk, at a bar you can be anybody you like. Stupid really.
People are much happier with an interesting occupation, a lawyer is a downer, and it kind of throws them, makes them ask for advice on even the stupidest legal issues.
"What do you photograph?" he asked.
It was a spur of the moment decision and clearly, I hadn’t thought it through, and I’m sure my hesitating answer was building my credibility.
“You have the prettiest eyes,” I said. It was a desperate grab for time.
He blush-smiled coyly there in the dim bar light.
My immediate thought was him, I wanted to photograph him, but, I stopped myself from saying that. “People, places, something of the real world that catches my eye.” It was true, that is what I like to photograph. And the old adage stands, if you are going to tell a lie, stick as close as you can to the truth.
“The beauty in things…” It was true. “In a moment…" Smile, shrug. "Through the lens."
“It sounds interesting.”
“Men, of course.” Raised my hands in the air, quizzical look.
Fuck, I thought, can I pull this one off?
"Oh," he said. Smile. "And how do you find them?"
"How do I find them?" Always repeat the question back to your subject if you are making it up on the fly. It’s a good time gaining device.
"Yes, how does someone audition?"
"Well?" I laughed to myself, as to how I was going to put this. "You take off some of your clothes." I said it deliberately, as though I was asking him to get naked.
"Oh," he said. His eyes widened. "So, no great secret to it then."
“No,” I said. “No rocket science used here.”
His mouth bent into that gorgeous smile, as his eyebrows bent upward. My smile felt like my pissed version, I’m sure.
I smiled and held his eyes. I laughed. "You... wanting to audition?"
He smiled. His sparkling eyes held mine. I got the sense that he liked the idea. I’d got his attention. He blushed and took a swig from his schooner. His intent eyes remained with him. He was very handsome. Brown hair, blue eyes and a gorgeous smile.
I took a swig of my beer, deliberately not talking, so as to leave the last thing I said just hanging between us.
"So,... how do you find these guys?"
I shrugged. "In bars."
He smiled nervously. "Is it hard?"
"Yeah, it needs to be."
He blushed bright beetroot. I wondered if he was getting a boner from this talk? "No, to find… what would you call them?"
"Models?"
"Yes, models."
"No. I've found that the one thing guys aren't shy about is getting their photos taken, you know, everyone wants to be a super model."
"Oh, really?"
"Yep, really. No problem."
"You make it sound easy."
“Well? I wouldn’t, exactly, say easy, but it is easier than it sounds. It helps to get them pissed.” I smiled.
He smiled.
“Another beer?” I said.
I raised my hand to get the bar tenders attention.
“Sure.” He laughed kind of self consciously. “Oh.” He laughed again and then looked up and down the bar as if to see if anyone was watching us.
“Two schooners, please.”
“No, seriously,” said Andrew. “It can’t be that easy, can it?”
“Usually,” I said. “You know, no more effort than asking, really.” I shrugged. “Because the ones who aren’t going to agree, are long gone before I even realise I got turned down. The others.” I shrugged, again. And smiled.
“Really.” He licked his lips, I’m not sure he even realised.
“Candy… from… a baby.”
We sipped from our beers. “Do you think you could skull one of these?”
“No,” said Andrew. He looked at the glass. “Oh… maybe.” He looked at it some more. “No… I reckon I could.”
Then he downed the rest of his schooner.
“I only live up the road, why don’t you come back to my place with me?” I downed my beer and gave him time to think.
“Okay,” he said.
We left the bar together. I felt that feeling of picking up, as we manoeuvred the punters on the footpaths with beers and cigarettes.
We walked towards my place. Andrew looked so sexy walking along with me. Nice legs, nice arse, a nice straight back. I thought about his hairy chest and stomach.
“You’ve never done this before?”
“No, never.”
Never. “Why did you tonight?”
“You gave me just enough beer.”
Gave him enough beer.
It was quiet out, the streets were pretty much empty.
“Have you got dark pubes?” yeah, sure, I was pissed.
“Yes.” He smiled back at me, at the cheek of the question.
“You hairy or not hairy?”
“What qualifies as hairy?”
“Hairy chest, hairy stomach, hairy legs.”
“Then, I guess I’m hairy.”
“Cut, or uncut?”
“Uncut.”
“Tight foreskin, loose foreskin?”
“Well… I don’t know? I can move it up and down freely, but it’s not like a bat’s wing hanging off.”
“Hairy arse?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like playing with your balls?”
“Me playing with my own balls?”
“Yes.”
“Sure.”
“Are your nipples really sensitive?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Are you getting hard with some of these questions?”
“Yeah. A bit. He knows we are talking about him. You are deliberately trying to excite me.”
“Would you let me suck your cock?”
“I thought it was just photos,” said Andrew. “With you telling me how sexy I am.”
“I want you to have a hardon when I photo you,” I said. “Are you hard already?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever let a guy play with it?”
“No… not yet.”
We got to my gate in the depth of the night. I reached for the gate. I leaned in and invaded his space. “Would you?”
“I thought it was just photos.” He slurred as he spoke.
I pushed the gate open. “Yes, photos.” I pointed with my whole hand. “Just photos.” I smiled. “After you.”
He looked at the house. He looked back at me, nervously. He looked back at the front door. “Thanks… Yes… Sure.”
I followed him in.
“Nice house,” he said. “Do you live here on your own?”
“No, I live with my brother… who is away for the weekend.”
“Oh,” said Andrew.
He stood in the middle of the lounge room with his hands in his back pockets looking nervous.
"Do you want a beer?
"Sure."
I went to the kitchen and got the drinks. I was more than a bit excited, I have to say. I was light on my feet with intention.
“What kind of camera do you use?”
“A Cannon.”
I put some soft music on and Andrew relaxed and sat down with his beer. It was the first time I got to see the bulge in his pants, you know, framed so well. It looked good. Nice.
"So..." said Andrew.
I got my camera and pulled the pouf up in front of him.
"We should do some test shots?"
"Okay." He smiled. “You should direct me like a photo shoot.”
I could see the soft pours in his face, as I sat close to him.
I took a couple of shots.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Why don't you take off your shirt?"
"Oh. Okay." He slipped his shirt off.
He did have a nice hairy chest, the hair grew down his stomach and disappeared under the waistband of his pants. Dark. Just how I like them.
"Good. Nice."
"Thanks."
"You're in shape. Do you do gym work?"
"I try to three times a week."
"It shows."
"Thanks."
"Why don't you move your hands to your sides."
He did and I got a clear shot of his sexy chest, his flat stomach, and the bulge in his pants. I was nervous and excited all at the same time.
"That's sexy."
He smiled back at me.
“Slide your hands into the pockets of your pants so your underwear elastic shows.”
Kelvin Cline. Classic.
"Slide a hand into your pants, as though you are playing with yourself."
His hand slid under the waistband of his pants.
"Yeah. Good." He looked good. "Make a fist."
In the dim light, his dark hair and three day growth made him look like a Greek god.
"Unzip your pants and lay them open."
His pants came apart, so I could see the elastic of his white jocks. I love that look. Pants open either side with a jagged fly outlining the sides, with the soft elastic of underwear cutting across the lower abdomen creating a tease.
The hair on his stomach thickened up where it me his underwear.
I was boning up.
I stopped for a millisecond and thought how easy this had been. Here I have the prettiest guy lying back in my easy chair with his pants undone and his considerable assets nearly on show. Teasing me with the anticipation.
"That's great, Andrew. You are a natural at this."
Click, click. Click, click.
I got my tripod so I could take shots in low light.
He didn't know what to do with his hands, and he just sat there with them right out of the way, so he was on full display.
I wanted to see him just in his jocks, that is the sexist look.
"Why don't you slip your pants off?"
He slid his pants down his legs tentatively. Then he lay back just in his jocks, and he looked hot. He had on Kalvin's Y fronts, they looked hot on him. His hairy legs stopped at the leg elastic and his hairy stomach appeared out of the top elastic and grew up his stomach. There is something really sexy about a man just in his jocks showing it all off.
“Spread your legs.”
His thick thighs moved apart and his underwear fell down in a semi circular bulge.
“Nice. Nice bulge.”
“Thanks.” He absentmindedly rubbed it. Click, click. That was hot.
He had big balls bulging in the white cotton. His cock lying to the right, straight across, kind of a bit hard, I was sure. He was lean and toned and hairy. Just gorgeous.
"Can you pull the material up a bit and off your cock."
"Like this?"
"Yes, just like that."
The material became loose and his thick, could be seen lying in the material, like a sausage.
Click sounded my camera, I was getting good shots.
"Pull you jocks down over your balls."
Black pubes. Thick shaft. Semi hard, waving around snake like in mid air. Red knob. Beautiful flesh. Unseen flesh. Forbidden flesh. Always hidden… big balls. Thick thighs. Purple scrotum. Nearly erect hardon laying across to the left of his abdomen.
It was beautiful.
I could look from Andrew’s handsome face, to his hard penis, just like that, at a tilt of the head.
Click, click. Click, click.
He took it in his right hand and started to rub it, once it was hard.
Click, click. Click, click.
He reached for the lube.
“Not too much, I don’t want to see it in the photos.”
He made a fist around his big, hard cock and ran his hand up and down. Twitch of the mouth. Up and down. Smile. Up and down. Closed eye concentration. Up and down a little harder. Eyes open. Abandon. Up and down. Up and down.
Click, click. Click, click.
Randy Crawford sand in the back ground, Everything must change.
I learnt that pretty Canadian boy’s cum freely and in big amounts.
He gave me his email address to send the shots too. You should see some of them. The cum shots. Droplets caught midair. I wrote DTM on the envelope. It was our kind of joke. Don’t tell mama.
We became Facebook friends too.
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