Date: Sat, 12 May 2012 21:24:44 +0200
From: Moritz <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Subject: The Triathlete And His Photographer - Chapter FIVE
This is chapter five of my sixth story. I hope you enjoy reading this
I should also like to thank Charles (USA) for all his help in the
preparation of this manuscript. In particular, for his additions.
I would love to hear what you think about it! Please send me an e-mail
at email@example.com and let me know what you think.
I am a German from Hamburg.
I have translated my work into English but some of the prose
needs a finishing touch. So, if you can spare a few minutes, I would
appreciate your advice.
Hope you enjoy!
The Triathlete And His Photographer
.... edited by Charles (USA)
With a promise to call me later, Miguel went on his way.
Alone, I loaded the photos from the camera memory card to my computer
in order to watch Miguel nude on the big computer screen. Seeing his
fantastic body, I felt my penis springing awake and demanding my
attention. As the series of photos of Miguel's body, nude and as perfect
as God's own design, appeared on the screen one by one, my own
clothes began to fall away.
With preseminal fluids literally dripping from my penis, I closed my
eyes and tried to recall the situation when I had Miguel`s dick and balls
directly before my face. How I kept myself from touching it, tasting it,
and taking it into my mouth as it called to me, I'll never know.
But thank God I had kept my word, or that would have been the end.
Both my hands took over in a well-practiced counterpoint of movements,
and soon every muscle was tingling in anticipation as I exploded in what
had to be the best, the most intense, and definitely the most productive
orgasm I had had in weeks.
I continued gazing at Miguel's images flashing across the screen, and
within minutes I had a second orgasm, almost as intense as the first.
I'll admit that, from a technical, photographic perspective, the shots I had
taken of Miguel today were not my best work—but they were certainly
the most exciting and erotic ones. He was just so damned beautiful.
But just then I got a phone call from a friend and we talked for quite
some time, so I had a little distraction as I silently cleaned myself up.
Otherwise I would still have been sitting in front of the computer,
rubbing my penis raw and ecstatic to be doing it. After the call I turned
the computer off, even though it took all my willpower. No more photos
of Miguel today, I silently vowed.
Instead, I thought it best to go for a short run to renew myself and get
my mind off things. My normal route was a little over 12 kilometers
about 7½ miles) and usually took me 70 minutes to complete. But this
time I was still a little weak in the knee, so I ran only about 5K. And it was
a good thing, because as soon as I had gotten back into my apartment,
the phone rang.
"Hi, Moritz, it's only me, Miguel. I have posted your photos from the race
on my Web site already—and don't worry, I also included a credit line for
you and a link to your site. My friends and I all think your shots are
terrific! Just too bad you haven't taken even more. Actually, the photos
for the site don't all need to be perfect, it is more important that they
are authentic and capture the essence of the competition.
I was taken aback and had to consider: Should I tell Miguel now that I
had actually taken a lot more photos than I had let on?
"Hey, Moritz, what's up, you're so quiet. Did I say something wrong?
What's the matter?"
"Well, to be honest, I did take more photos, a lot more photos."
"Well, why didn't you just tell me about these photos and shown them to
"Miguel, you were honest with me from the very beginning: this is a
commercial venture for you, a smart way to make money. I understand and
accept that. So now I guess it's also time for me to be honest with you.
"First, I don't go to sporting events to take photos because I'm interested
in the sport. I ... I go because it gives me the opportunity to photograph
young, athletic, good looking men. If I tried doing the same in the shopping
malls, I'd wind up getting arrested. But at sporting events, there are always
lots of photographers, and people expect that pictures will be taken, so the
problem goes away completely. Besides, at most sporting events, the athletes
usually compete in skin-tight, sexy gear, which is of course more interesting.
To me, I mean."
"Fine, Moritz, I get that. You like to see young male athletes running around
in Spandex. No big deal, lots of people do. But I don't see why you wouldn't
show me the other pictures. When I asked you point-blank if you're gay, you
were honest and said yes, and that's OK with me. So holding back a few
pictures doesn't make any sense, does it?"
So I explained, "Now that I've gotten to know you better, I see that my being
gay doesn't bother you; but I couldn't know that before. I can take care of
myself, but I'm not crazy enough to put myself in a locked room with a guy
who could easily break me in half if he thought I was attracted to him.
"Which brings me to my second reason. During your last triathlon, I spent
the entire event, almost exclusively, focusing on only two athletes: you and
another guy. When I photograph, I can become obsessive; I sometimes take
hundreds of photos of the same subject. If I'm attracted to a man, I can't
stop myself. I can shoot for hours."
"I see, Moritz, but so what? Hell, I'm so focused when I train, it's scary.
I still don't see exactly where the problem lies. How many pictures of me
did you take, anyway?"
"More than 400."
"What, 400 shots? Holy shit, that's a ton! So can I also see them, or is
there some reason you don't want me to have a look?"
"Miguel, now that I know how easily you deal with all these issues, I have
no more problems with showing you everything. I just didn't want you to get
the impression that I'm some kind of stalker who followed you at every turn
during the race and photographed you constantly."
"But wait a minute, wait a minute: if you took more than 400 pictures of me
during that event, then you must have been all over the place. During a
competition that's not so easy."
"Yeah, but I also took a lot of photos before the race—and after."
"Aha, the plot thickens! Now I can't wait to see what my photos look
like—today, if you have time and don't mind. Mainly, I'm interested in
seeing what you did because I'd be willing to bet my shorts—and yours—that
there are still some good shots I can use for my site. Would it be OK with
you if I came over again?"
"No problem, why not now?" I said.
"Fine! I'll be there in about 15 minutes."
Whew! Not much time to shower and straighten up the computer area, but
I managed (barely). Approximately quarter of an hour later, Miguel rang my
doorbell and I let him in.
"Huh, Moritz, you know you are one strange dude. Don't you know there
wouldn't have been any problems showing me the other pictures?"
"I know now, but hindsight is always 20/20," I said. "There are certain men
who get belligerent when they realize there's a gay man photographing
them during a competition. So I had to play it safe. Anyway, I now have
all your photos into a folder and you can watch on the computer."
"Man, this is gonna be great," Miguel said. "If I like some of these
photos (and I know I will), can I also get copies to post on my site?"
"Sure, why not?"
"And what payment do you ask in return?" asked Miguel.
A return? I hadn't thought any kind of payment at all. All of this had
happened so fast. Miguel read the confused expression on my face and smiled.
"Chill out, buddy. Relax! We can settle the bill after I've looked at the
photos. But since I now know how glad you are to see me, why don't I make
a small down payment," he said as he took off his T-shirt.
Miguel managed once again to surprise me.
With equal speed, he slipped off his shoes and socks, unzipped his jeans,
and pulled them down and off. That left him in just his low-riser briefs.
"I'll keep these on for now," he said, and sat down at the computer. This
time I did not sit next to him, but stood beside him, so I had a better
view of his body.
"Typical photographer, always looking for the best view," Miguel quipped,
looking up. "Or are you afraid to get within striking distance?"
Miguel looked at the pictures with the eyes of a champion athlete. Based
on his reaction I realized that most of the pictures fit quite well into
his concept for the site. He made the non-verbal grunts and groans of
satisfaction. I think he was astonished at the number of candid shots I
had taken of him before, during, and after the race.
Finally, he grinned at me and said, "How could you possibly have taken
as many photos as you did, you sneaky little devil? It's surprising but more
to the point, how could I not have noticed that you were photographing
"Well, I just try to stay severely in the background when I take photos.
As I said, some athletes become greatly annoyed when strangers—except
For the official photographers hired by the event organizer—take pictures
of them. More than once, I've gotten into real trouble with an athlete."
Miguel had to laugh out loud, "Strictly speaking, that's a development
I'd never have thought of. Anyway, I'm really glad you've confessed to me
that there are a lot more competition photos. I can also use quite a few
of these on my Web site. They're exactly what I need. Now we just need to
decide what I must give you in return."
Miguel looked at me curiously.
..... to be continued ....
copyright Moritz – Hamburg – Germany
I URGENTLY NEED A VERY GOOD EDITOR FOR A NEW STORY!
Overview of my erotic stories at nifty
# 1 Dirty Tricks At The Photo Shoot – Gay/Beginnings
# 2 Nude Modeling For Money – Gay/Beginnings
# 3 The Naked Waiter – Gay/College
# 4 Young Athlete Looking For Sponsorship – Gay/Athletics
# 5 Life Model At Biology Class – Gay/Highschool
# 6 The Triathlete And His Photographer – Gay/Beginnings
# 7 The Naked Diver – Gay/Encounters
# 8 The Tricky Birthday Present – Gay/Beginnings
# 9 The Pizza Boy – Gay/Beginnings
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