Harry and his Camera
I went to see Harry, the guy I met the other night at a party, he was very keen for me to go around. I kind of like the idea of a photographic journal of my life, not only take it down in words, but have images to go with those words. Who do I think I am, I hear you say? Why does he think he is so special, or that interesting? I don’t know about that? All I can do is provide what I know and other people, future generations will decide if it is interesting, or not. I’m just recording my bit for posterity. And isn’t everybody interested in their family and where they came from? Even if it doesn’t seem so important now, in 100 years if may be viewed differently.
I reckon that is what I am going to do, photography. And what a way to start, with Harry.
Don’t worry, I got it. Harry has an ulterior motive, I thought as I got ready to go. He’s old school queen, to who photos are something naughty. That’s okay with me, old queens were really kind to me when I first came out, like a bunch of protective nanas, it is like repaying the favour, however that may occur? The old queens never got a look in when I was 18, oh no, don’t you worry about that, I was way too ageist back then, so every kind act went unrepayed. Now a days, I am an older and wiser 35 year old who is in good shape and who, from all accounts, has a great cock, and I am a little kinder and I don’t mind giving an old queen a thrill every once in a while. One day I am going to be their age and nobody is going to want to have sex with me, well, not too may 35 year olds. If he charms me and cajoles me, and flatters me, I’ll let Harry see my dick. Why not, old queens, as a rule, love me, so it is rewarding. They don’t get to touch much, just watch. It is when all my voyeuristic tendencies come out and I shiver with antisipation. I usually let them watch me wank off in the end, if they are keen. I’ve got a big, beautiful cock, according to most “comers.” Oh yes, I know, I know, it is not something I’d own up to with just anyone in polite company, but then I don’t have to.
Harry flattered me enough the other night to entice me over to his place to see what may go down. Curiosity peaked, is that the expression? An indulgent session, where I am the focus. One on one. Hot. Steamy. Anticipatory.
So I get there and Harry is gooing and gushing about me. He is dressed all in black. He tells me how handsome I am… sideways smile. Standard fare.
“You are beautiful, really beautiful.”
I’m handsome enough, the boys seem to like me, but beautiful? It is amazing what people have said to me in the passed to get me out of my pants. (I guess that is true for all gay guys growing up through gaydom) I’ve got a good face. I’m in shape. My stomach is flat and my arse is pert.
“Would you like something to eat, my boy?” says Harry. I wondered if that was a double entendre, but it isn’t. It is nearly lunchtime and Harry has prepared something.
We have cucumber sandwiches and tea from a rose print teapot, I kid you not. Not so standard.
“It is lovely that you have come over,” said Harry.
“It is nice to be here.” Well, so far so good, I thought.
“I’m very excited by our partnership,” said Harry.
“Me too.” I wasn’t at all sure that I was, at that stage, but it was better to be generous, I thought.
“A handsome young man like yourself…”
“Thank you Harry, you flatter me,” I said. “Are you trying to butter me up?”
“Of course,” said Harry. And beamed his big smile. “Got to make my, um, candidates feel safe and secure.”
“Candidate,” I repeated. “What am I a candidate for?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.” Harry smiled again. Said the spider to the fly was all I could think. I admonished myself under my breath, Harry seemed nice. I can look after myself, what could possibly go wrong?
“So, are you up for anything?”
I shrug, as if it is a simple question. “Sure.”
“Would you do bathing suit?” There you go, there is was.
“As long as it is indoors, for optimum bathing suit shots.” I smiled.
“Yes, indoors, yes indoors, yes, quite, quite, quite. We don’t want anything, um, underestimated.” He laughed. A dirty kind of knowing laugh, the type of laugh that gay guys laugh when they are being dirty.
The sandwiches were good, fresh, tasty. The tea was strong and well brewed. My great aunt would have aporved, I chuckled to myself.
“I’ve got cake, do you eat cake?” asked Harry.
“Sure,” I said.
He reached for a yellow looking cake on a cake stand on the counter. “Lemon cake.” He smiled. “Would you be too shy to do nude shots?”
“Nude?” I tried to sound just a little surprised, but I wasn’t. I just knew that that question was coming. Nude with lemon cake, it would be called.
“Yes,” said Harry. He put the cake down on the table between us. “I think it is always nice for a young man to do a full frontal nude shot, it completes the set of pictures, if you know what I mean?”
“So you get all of him,” I said feebly.
“Yes, precisely,” said Harry. “So you get every angle, so to speak.”
“Yeah,” I could hear myself saying. “I’m not shy.” I’m really not. “What are you hiding it for, I say,” I said.
“Yes, well, very good,” said Harry.
We get into the studio. It is a big square box with a mattress in it. What have I let myself in for? It was a bed, I am being unkind. A chair. A table next to the chair and a studio space at one end.
“You can put your clothes on the bed.”
“You want me to take my clothes off?”
“No… oh yes.” He squealed as if he was being naughty. “I’m going to give you clothes to model, you can put your clothes on the bed.”
He lit a joint, which we shared. My head was feeling very thick very quickly.
“I’d like you to stand over here. I will give you direction. I’ll be standing here.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Would you take Viagra if I gave you one?”
“What?”
“It is just for affect, nothing else,” he said. “I’m sure I don’t do it for you. You want to take your best shots, don’t you?”
So there you have it, the tone was set for the photo shoot. I did want my best shots. I told him that I didn’t want copies, it was just good knowing that I was recorded for posterity and if somebody got pleasure out of it…” I kind of heard myself talking, so I was agreeing to do porn, right there and then. That was it, it was agreed.
I laughed, somewhat self consciously. “Sure, why not.”
He lit a second joint.
“That’s good, he said. “Here you go.”
I looked at Harry and he had something in his right hand and a glass of water in the other hand. I took the blue pill and the glass of water and took the pill.
He adjusted his camera. I puffed on the joint and he took a photo of me, a face shot.
“Could you sit on the chair?”
“Sure.”
Click sounded the camera. (I am writing click, but there were multiple clicks, at times.)
“Could you smile?” Click. “Bigger smile.” Click. “Now, no smile.” Click. “Not sad, expressionless. Yes.” Click. “Turn away.” Click. “Back this way.” Click. “Pensive. Very good.” Click. “Serious.” Click. “Look away.” Click. “Look down.” Click. “Remain looking down.” Click. “Don’t move.” Click. “Now relax.” Click. “Not a care in the world.” Click. “Relaxed.” Click. “Shake it out.” Click. “Throw your head back.” Click. “Smile.” Click. “Relax.” Click.
“Close your eyes, throw your head back, right back, as though you have long hair that is falling all the way down your back. Yes. Hold that.” Click.
“You’re very handsome, you know…”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“I’m not just saying that.”
I smiled without saying anything. I bet you say that to all the boys, right before you ask them to take their pants off, was my guess.
“Can you take your shirt off?”
“Sure,” I said. I pulled my tshirt over my head. Click, click, click.
“Look at me.” Click. “Arms folded across your chest.” Click. Look away.” Click. “Now, look as though you are alone in the world.” Click. “Just you and nobody else.” Click. “Stare into space.” Click. “Yes, lovely.” Click. “You have a nice chest.
“Um, thanks.”
“Is it warm enough in here for you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Can you turn to me, look directly at me. Spread your legs a bit, crotch square onto me. Yes, lovely.” Click. “Stare into the lens.” Click. “Stare down the lens.” Click. “Yes, lovely, can you hold that?” Click, click, click.
He wheeled a clothes hanger on wheels over to him. He got something from the hanger.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t really have a change room.” He handed me a small pair of speedos. “I’ve had the heater on… might as well start when it is the warmest.”
I have to admit, I was getting half hard, and I wasn’t sure it was the Viagra. This is it, this is where I get to be the dirty little exhibitionist I have lurking inside me. This is where I spread my legs and let Harry see my big dick.
I took my jeans down. I could feel the weight of my cock. I could feel it bending up. I turned my back to Harry. I pulled off my jocks and then pulled on the speedos.
“Do you want to lay back down on those beach balls?”
I did. My cock was bulging up my speedos like a banana.
“Do you want to smile?”
I smiled.
“Look happy.”
I did.
“Serious.”
I did.
Carefree.”
I smiled again.
“Pensive.”
I think I pouted.
“Serious.”
I did.
“Do you want to put your hands behind your head.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, just like that.” Click, click, click.
“Do you want to massage the front of your speedos?”
The speedos were tight. I could feel my half hard cock and my balls squeezed into them.
“Rub with you palm down. Close your eyes.”
I was touching myself up in front of Harry.
“Can you pull the front of your speedos down?”
I was really turned on, I have to admit. I grabbed the waistband and peeled the front of the speedos down, until my cock popped out, rising up like a pole and gently laying down on my stomach.
“Rub your cock down so it flips over and points down your leg. Yes, that is it. Look into the camera. Nice. Nice.”
I ran my hand up and down my downward pointing cock.
“Can you take some lube from the bedside table and rub it all over your penis.”
I got a handful of lube and I wiped the glistening jelly all over my now hard cock.
“Can you masturbate for me?”
I started to pull my cock slowly. There I was laying back on the beach balls, or cushions that looked like beach balls, or whatever the fuck they were, pulling my now rock hard cock. Click, click, click.
“Yes. Yes. Make… it… har… Oh, yes, yes.”
Harry came over. “Fuck you have a beautiful cock.” He took a handful of lube and took my cock in his hand, rather unexpectedly. Unexpecdedly, I say? Really? How unexpecded was this, come on? Really, I’d come to have my cock worshipped, it was true, who was I kidding. I was going to be the sexy, young thing again, like I’d been all those years ago. And I was still the hot young thing, Harry thought I was delectable, he told me so. He pulled my hard cock, it felt good. I was the centre of attention, it was all being done to me. His hands felt good massaging my dick. He squeezed it just hard enough, there in that dark studio where it was just Harry and me.
“Shouldn’t you be taking photos?” I said.
“I want to make you cum,” said Harry.
“If you keep doing that you are going to.”
He pulled my cock with both hands, the old guy was going to make me squirt my jizz.
“You have to stop.” I tried to peel his hands off me.
“Why do you want to stop?” Harry relaxed his hands momentarily.
“Because you are going to make me cum.”
“But that is what I want to do." And Harry’s hands grabbed my cock harder.
“Fuck, you are really going to make me cum.” I took over from Harry. I pulled my cock vigorously. I was going to cum. It was going to be a great cum. My cock was rock hard in my hand. I could feel it, I could feel it, I could feel it! I shot huge white shots of jizz into the air. I kept pulling, my cock which was still rock hard. Harry had picked up his camera again, luby fingers and all. He started to take shots. I shot another load of cum into the air, followed by another, and another.
I reckon that is what I am going to do, photography. And what a way to start, with Harry.
Don’t worry, I got it. Harry has an ulterior motive, I thought as I got ready to go. He’s old school queen, to who photos are something naughty. That’s okay with me, old queens were really kind to me when I first came out, like a bunch of protective nanas, it is like repaying the favour, however that may occur? The old queens never got a look in when I was 18, oh no, don’t you worry about that, I was way too ageist back then, so every kind act went unrepayed. Now a days, I am an older and wiser 35 year old who is in good shape and who, from all accounts, has a great cock, and I am a little kinder and I don’t mind giving an old queen a thrill every once in a while. One day I am going to be their age and nobody is going to want to have sex with me, well, not too may 35 year olds. If he charms me and cajoles me, and flatters me, I’ll let Harry see my dick. Why not, old queens, as a rule, love me, so it is rewarding. They don’t get to touch much, just watch. It is when all my voyeuristic tendencies come out and I shiver with antisipation. I usually let them watch me wank off in the end, if they are keen. I’ve got a big, beautiful cock, according to most “comers.” Oh yes, I know, I know, it is not something I’d own up to with just anyone in polite company, but then I don’t have to.
Harry flattered me enough the other night to entice me over to his place to see what may go down. Curiosity peaked, is that the expression? An indulgent session, where I am the focus. One on one. Hot. Steamy. Anticipatory.
So I get there and Harry is gooing and gushing about me. He is dressed all in black. He tells me how handsome I am… sideways smile. Standard fare.
“You are beautiful, really beautiful.”
I’m handsome enough, the boys seem to like me, but beautiful? It is amazing what people have said to me in the passed to get me out of my pants. (I guess that is true for all gay guys growing up through gaydom) I’ve got a good face. I’m in shape. My stomach is flat and my arse is pert.
“Would you like something to eat, my boy?” says Harry. I wondered if that was a double entendre, but it isn’t. It is nearly lunchtime and Harry has prepared something.
We have cucumber sandwiches and tea from a rose print teapot, I kid you not. Not so standard.
“It is lovely that you have come over,” said Harry.
“It is nice to be here.” Well, so far so good, I thought.
“I’m very excited by our partnership,” said Harry.
“Me too.” I wasn’t at all sure that I was, at that stage, but it was better to be generous, I thought.
“A handsome young man like yourself…”
“Thank you Harry, you flatter me,” I said. “Are you trying to butter me up?”
“Of course,” said Harry. And beamed his big smile. “Got to make my, um, candidates feel safe and secure.”
“Candidate,” I repeated. “What am I a candidate for?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.” Harry smiled again. Said the spider to the fly was all I could think. I admonished myself under my breath, Harry seemed nice. I can look after myself, what could possibly go wrong?
“So, are you up for anything?”
I shrug, as if it is a simple question. “Sure.”
“Would you do bathing suit?” There you go, there is was.
“As long as it is indoors, for optimum bathing suit shots.” I smiled.
“Yes, indoors, yes indoors, yes, quite, quite, quite. We don’t want anything, um, underestimated.” He laughed. A dirty kind of knowing laugh, the type of laugh that gay guys laugh when they are being dirty.
The sandwiches were good, fresh, tasty. The tea was strong and well brewed. My great aunt would have aporved, I chuckled to myself.
“I’ve got cake, do you eat cake?” asked Harry.
“Sure,” I said.
He reached for a yellow looking cake on a cake stand on the counter. “Lemon cake.” He smiled. “Would you be too shy to do nude shots?”
“Nude?” I tried to sound just a little surprised, but I wasn’t. I just knew that that question was coming. Nude with lemon cake, it would be called.
“Yes,” said Harry. He put the cake down on the table between us. “I think it is always nice for a young man to do a full frontal nude shot, it completes the set of pictures, if you know what I mean?”
“So you get all of him,” I said feebly.
“Yes, precisely,” said Harry. “So you get every angle, so to speak.”
“Yeah,” I could hear myself saying. “I’m not shy.” I’m really not. “What are you hiding it for, I say,” I said.
“Yes, well, very good,” said Harry.
We get into the studio. It is a big square box with a mattress in it. What have I let myself in for? It was a bed, I am being unkind. A chair. A table next to the chair and a studio space at one end.
“You can put your clothes on the bed.”
“You want me to take my clothes off?”
“No… oh yes.” He squealed as if he was being naughty. “I’m going to give you clothes to model, you can put your clothes on the bed.”
He lit a joint, which we shared. My head was feeling very thick very quickly.
“I’d like you to stand over here. I will give you direction. I’ll be standing here.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Would you take Viagra if I gave you one?”
“What?”
“It is just for affect, nothing else,” he said. “I’m sure I don’t do it for you. You want to take your best shots, don’t you?”
So there you have it, the tone was set for the photo shoot. I did want my best shots. I told him that I didn’t want copies, it was just good knowing that I was recorded for posterity and if somebody got pleasure out of it…” I kind of heard myself talking, so I was agreeing to do porn, right there and then. That was it, it was agreed.
I laughed, somewhat self consciously. “Sure, why not.”
He lit a second joint.
“That’s good, he said. “Here you go.”
I looked at Harry and he had something in his right hand and a glass of water in the other hand. I took the blue pill and the glass of water and took the pill.
He adjusted his camera. I puffed on the joint and he took a photo of me, a face shot.
“Could you sit on the chair?”
“Sure.”
Click sounded the camera. (I am writing click, but there were multiple clicks, at times.)
“Could you smile?” Click. “Bigger smile.” Click. “Now, no smile.” Click. “Not sad, expressionless. Yes.” Click. “Turn away.” Click. “Back this way.” Click. “Pensive. Very good.” Click. “Serious.” Click. “Look away.” Click. “Look down.” Click. “Remain looking down.” Click. “Don’t move.” Click. “Now relax.” Click. “Not a care in the world.” Click. “Relaxed.” Click. “Shake it out.” Click. “Throw your head back.” Click. “Smile.” Click. “Relax.” Click.
“Close your eyes, throw your head back, right back, as though you have long hair that is falling all the way down your back. Yes. Hold that.” Click.
“You’re very handsome, you know…”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“I’m not just saying that.”
I smiled without saying anything. I bet you say that to all the boys, right before you ask them to take their pants off, was my guess.
“Can you take your shirt off?”
“Sure,” I said. I pulled my tshirt over my head. Click, click, click.
“Look at me.” Click. “Arms folded across your chest.” Click. Look away.” Click. “Now, look as though you are alone in the world.” Click. “Just you and nobody else.” Click. “Stare into space.” Click. “Yes, lovely.” Click. “You have a nice chest.
“Um, thanks.”
“Is it warm enough in here for you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Can you turn to me, look directly at me. Spread your legs a bit, crotch square onto me. Yes, lovely.” Click. “Stare into the lens.” Click. “Stare down the lens.” Click. “Yes, lovely, can you hold that?” Click, click, click.
He wheeled a clothes hanger on wheels over to him. He got something from the hanger.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t really have a change room.” He handed me a small pair of speedos. “I’ve had the heater on… might as well start when it is the warmest.”
I have to admit, I was getting half hard, and I wasn’t sure it was the Viagra. This is it, this is where I get to be the dirty little exhibitionist I have lurking inside me. This is where I spread my legs and let Harry see my big dick.
I took my jeans down. I could feel the weight of my cock. I could feel it bending up. I turned my back to Harry. I pulled off my jocks and then pulled on the speedos.
“Do you want to lay back down on those beach balls?”
I did. My cock was bulging up my speedos like a banana.
“Do you want to smile?”
I smiled.
“Look happy.”
I did.
“Serious.”
I did.
Carefree.”
I smiled again.
“Pensive.”
I think I pouted.
“Serious.”
I did.
“Do you want to put your hands behind your head.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, just like that.” Click, click, click.
“Do you want to massage the front of your speedos?”
The speedos were tight. I could feel my half hard cock and my balls squeezed into them.
“Rub with you palm down. Close your eyes.”
I was touching myself up in front of Harry.
“Can you pull the front of your speedos down?”
I was really turned on, I have to admit. I grabbed the waistband and peeled the front of the speedos down, until my cock popped out, rising up like a pole and gently laying down on my stomach.
“Rub your cock down so it flips over and points down your leg. Yes, that is it. Look into the camera. Nice. Nice.”
I ran my hand up and down my downward pointing cock.
“Can you take some lube from the bedside table and rub it all over your penis.”
I got a handful of lube and I wiped the glistening jelly all over my now hard cock.
“Can you masturbate for me?”
I started to pull my cock slowly. There I was laying back on the beach balls, or cushions that looked like beach balls, or whatever the fuck they were, pulling my now rock hard cock. Click, click, click.
“Yes. Yes. Make… it… har… Oh, yes, yes.”
Harry came over. “Fuck you have a beautiful cock.” He took a handful of lube and took my cock in his hand, rather unexpectedly. Unexpecdedly, I say? Really? How unexpecded was this, come on? Really, I’d come to have my cock worshipped, it was true, who was I kidding. I was going to be the sexy, young thing again, like I’d been all those years ago. And I was still the hot young thing, Harry thought I was delectable, he told me so. He pulled my hard cock, it felt good. I was the centre of attention, it was all being done to me. His hands felt good massaging my dick. He squeezed it just hard enough, there in that dark studio where it was just Harry and me.
“Shouldn’t you be taking photos?” I said.
“I want to make you cum,” said Harry.
“If you keep doing that you are going to.”
He pulled my cock with both hands, the old guy was going to make me squirt my jizz.
“You have to stop.” I tried to peel his hands off me.
“Why do you want to stop?” Harry relaxed his hands momentarily.
“Because you are going to make me cum.”
“But that is what I want to do." And Harry’s hands grabbed my cock harder.
“Fuck, you are really going to make me cum.” I took over from Harry. I pulled my cock vigorously. I was going to cum. It was going to be a great cum. My cock was rock hard in my hand. I could feel it, I could feel it, I could feel it! I shot huge white shots of jizz into the air. I kept pulling, my cock which was still rock hard. Harry had picked up his camera again, luby fingers and all. He started to take shots. I shot another load of cum into the air, followed by another, and another.
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