The contents of this story is purely fictional although based on real life happenings in my life. All names have been fictionalize to protect the innocent and not so innocent. The content matter of this story concerns love and sex between males teenagers. If this is not what you like reading or it is illegal for you to read this material because of age or laws go somewhere else. This story is copyrighted by it's owner and may not be copied or published elsewhere without the owners permission.
It's been a while since I last posted a story. I have always liked photography and it's what I am doing now to make a living.
Hope you like the story. Let me hear from you.
samlakes86 at yahoo.com
Foto Chapter 1
Foto Chapter 1
Hi, my real name is Sebastian Atreyu McCormick. Thanks Dad for naming me after your favorite movie characters. For those of you who are movie name challenged my dad named me after the two main characters of the movie The Neverending Story. He was fifteen when I was born. I was the result of him trying to prove he was heterosexual. My name was the result of his immaturity and the fact that he had a boner crush on Bastian and Atreyu.
I’ll have to admit I think Noah Hathaway was hot! Of course he’s an old man now and I have no idea what happened to him or his acting career.
Most people at school call me Foto, which is short for FotoGeek. A name I got christened with about two weeks after I started school here last year as a freshman.
The name is fitting for me because my passion in life is taking pictures. It all started two years ago when I was thirteen.
At the time I figured my dad needed a break from my escapades and me so he dumped me on my mom. Needless to say, I wasn’t too happy because it was only the second time I’d ever met my mom and now I was expected to spend the whole summer with this strange woman who had never wanted me.
I met mom in Denver. She had a fully loaded Bluebird RV. I even had my own room. That relieved my worries because I had envisioned spending the summer camped out in a tent, sleeping in a sleeping bag on the hard ground and being eaten alive by a bear. This was camping in style.
As an attempt to woo my affections she gave me a digital camera. For you fellow fotogeeks it was an Olympus Camedia 3020-Zoom 3.2 megapixels.
Being somewhat of a geeky kid I read the manual and bought several magazines and books on photography. Naturally, along with the camera I was also given an Apple PowerBook (fully loaded – compliments of my grandfather).
I spent the first week in my room studying the manuals books and only taking pictures of things like my foot, my shoes, my room, me in the mirror and my hairless dick.
I erased the pictures of my dick because I thought it might be considered porno and as I was a kid that would make it child porno and I didn’t fancy being sent to prison at the age of thirteen. So any perverts out there don’t ask me to send you naked pictures of myself because I don’t have any.
Within the first two weeks of being with my mom I found out that my dad hadn’t just dumped me. She had asked him to let me spend the summer with her. She was recovering from cancer treatment and she could no longer have kids. I was it – the only kid she had and there would be no half brothers or sisters.
She wanted to get to know me. It was weird to me; I had always had my dads (Dad and Michael) in my life. Michael was the dad that stayed with me in the daytime. He was my tutor except for a short period when I was sent to boarding school.
I knew that having two dads was not the norm, but it had always been that way for me and I was used to it. I missed my dads terribly the first month and pleaded with Michael and Dad numerous times to come and rescue me. I hated camping; I hated being away from them. I hated this woman who only now turned up in my life.
I hoped for a reprieve but knew it would not come and I would be here for the rest of the summer. Mom tried not to be disapproving of my dads’ lifestyle but there were times in the first month when her disapproval was made very clear.
I avoided her as much as possible and submersed myself heart and soul into taking pictures. When you concentrate on learning something 12 hours a day for a month you can’t help but get good and I got good.
In my effort to distance myself from my mom I demanded she drop me off at the local photography club. That’s when I met Edna Williams. She was a professional photographer that became my mentor and confidant for the summer.
Edna witnessed me being extremely rude to my mom. She did not approve of my behavior pulling me aside and reprimanding me. I told her to fuck-off. That was the wrong thing for me to do. She grabbed me by the ear and drug me off to the restroom and read me the riot act. Or to put it another way, she ripped me a new asshole.
No one had ever talked to me like that.
“What the hell is wrong with you that you think you have the right to treat someone like that!” she yelled.
That’s when the damn broke.
“I hate my life!” I screamed, “I hate it! I hate my mom! I hate my dads making me stay with her! I hate that she hates my dads because they are fags! I hate it when she calls gay people fags and dykes. I hate it when she says she hopes my dads haven’t turned me into a fag. I hate her! I hate always moving and not having any friends. Why can’t my dads think about me and what I want? It’s always business, business, business! I hate it.”
I rarely cry in front of people I usually run off and hide, but she was blocking my only exit. I could feel the hot tears cascading down my cheeks. All I could do was stand there and cry. I couldn’t stop.
Being rich and having all the things in the world couldn’t fill the void of not having the one thing that I needed the most – a friend.
I think Edna is my guardian angel. She pulled me into a tight hug as I sobbed.
She had been an army brat so knew about moving a lot. She was also a lesbian – very butch but still a woman.
We didn’t leave the bathroom for two hours while I poured my heart out to her.
We missed the photo club meeting. I apologized for making her miss the meeting and she said something that brought tears to my eyes but not tears of sadness.
“Honey, I would gladly have missed a million meetings to become your friend.”
Well, whatcha think of this chapter? Want to hear more? Comments welcomed - Bastian