Date: Sat, 11 Dec 2004 20:33:12 +0000 (GMT) From: roy p...... Subject: The Photographer's Jackpot Just a quickie(!) about a man's fall into the comfortably profitable world of pornography. He doesn't know it yet, but it will make him rich enough to live a more luxurious life than he'd ever dreamt would come his way. In five years time, his two favourite models will join his business (one as sales and promotion manager, the other as his I.T. manager), and his life as live-in houseboys. By then, if you've ever read a gay magazine, or surfed that area of the internet, you've seen his work. This is how it all started. The Photographer's Jackpot. I'm a photographer. Not a particularly good one, but I almost make a living out of it. If I'm careful. And lucky. I have a studio in the front of my house, well it was a corner shop converted from the end one of a row of terraced houses, and I use the old shop part as the studio and workshop, and live in the back room (my lounge) and the upstairs rooms (two bedrooms, one used as a storeroom, and the bathroom.) They were probably nice houses in 1880, but they're a bit past their use by date now. As is the whole district. The good thing is that Victorians always had a nice park in their suburbs, and when they built this worker's paradise, they put the park just over the road. I go there a lot in the summer, it is an oasis of green in this grim northern town. I usually take a couple of cameras with me, sometimes I photograph the flowers, or the wildlife (a squirrel), or the boys playing football. Boys. That's my other interest, although I wasn't very good at getting them to be interested in me when I was one of them, so I've always been a bit of a loner. Not out of choice, you understand, but I never did wake up with that interest in the opposite sex that my peer group all did as the years passed. Nor was it acceptable in working class Lancashire at that time to have an interest in the same sex. O.K, I can sell the boys pictures of themselves scoring 'the winning goal at the Wembley Cup Final', despite the jumpers for goalposts. At 50p a time, it's only a drop in my ocean sized overdraft, but I get to keep a copy too. One evening I'd gone out hoping for a red cloud sunset, but something else attracted the attention of my camera. Two lads, about 15 years old I'd say, having a kick-about on the grass. I could tell they weren't much into football, they weren't from the usual gangs of kids who ran wildly about blatantly fouling their opponents to get the ball and kick it hard between the jumper goalposts. They were just kicking it to and fro between themselves and seeming to have a conversation whenever they were close enough together. They were so engrossed in their own world they both jumped when I approached and said "Take your photographs, lads? Only 50 pence a copy!" and proffered one of my business cards. "Oh! O.K, that'd be nice!" one said, and they turned to face me and posed, one with his arm on the other's shoulder, he then put his arm round the first's back. Not what I'd expected at all! One had dark brown hair, and was wearing dark blue jeans with a matching denim jacket, the other was golden blond, wearing lighter faded jeans and a blue lightweight jacket. They weren't particularly 'beautiful', but I wouldn't kick either out of -- not that I'd ever get the chance, or even try. I don't want a spell in prison, thank you. Now I can take a photo of a footballer the split second his boot hits the ball, and dents it before it moves, but posed shots are something else. The conditions, background, aperture and exposure all have to be perfect, and you might get a picture worth keeping. Anything slightly out, and you're wasting your time. I carefully lined up the view, checked my exposure meter to get the optimum setting, and took the shot. The light was failing fast, and I didn't rate my chances highly. But for 50p - unless - "I don't think it'll be very good," I started - "Oh, shame!" one of the lads butted in - "but I've got a studio over there -" pointing to the corner house "- and I could do one under floodlight if you like." "Well - I don't know!" said the blond one. A moment passed. Two. Three. I wasn't going to push it any harder for a couple of 50p photos. I turned to go. "Do you want to take our pictures or not?" comes after me. "Only if I can sell them!" I shout back. I really only meant sell to them, but - suddenly they've run up alongside me, and "Could you sell pictures of us? Really?" My mind slipped into 'safety catch off' mode, ignored the 'go directly to jail' square, I stopped the brisk walk I'd gone off in and said "There are certain types of photograph that certain types of people might buy, but I doubt if you'd want to do them and I don't know if I'd risk taking them." A silent pause, during which my brain switched off its logic banks and I added "Would you." The pause ended when the dark haired boy asked "What would we have to do?" "Undress." I said. The two boys come in nervously and I offer them a sandwich and a coke. We sit chatting in the kitchen for a while, then I ask them if they're still OK with the idea of me photographing them. I offer them five pounds each, not to do anything they don't want to, I emphasise, but because I make a living out of photography, and models are always paid. I ask again, do they mind being undressed if I want, they wriggle about a bit, embarrassed, but agree. I open two tins of beer, pour out one between them and one for myself, and we continue chatting. I lead the subject onto sex, and ask them what they know, what they like and eventually "Do you wank?" They go red and hedge around for a while, but yes they do. "You are both close friends, ever done it together?" Even redder, but say a couple of times they have. I invite them into the lounge, and put on a porno video. They sit on the sofa, watching intently, and I start photographing them. "Ignore me," I say, "I'm not here." After only a couple of minutes, I'm sure they are both hard in their jeans and capture a few shots of them rubbing their bulges. "Take your jeans off," I say, "and relax. Wank if you want to, its what I want to take!" Eventually they open their jeans and slip them, and their underpants, down. Two young hard cocks stand up from their bodies. First one, then both of them, give their cocks a rub. I ask them to slow down a bit - "We don't want it over too soon, do we!" I get them to move slightly lower in their seats, to give me a better picture, then as they get used to the situation, I direct their hand action, getting closer all the time. Eventually I'm close enough to say "Do it like this," and place my hand on the blond ones cock and give it a few slow rubs. He smiles at me. "Come on, time to show me how friendly you are with each other!" they slide closer together, take each other's cock in their hands and rub. They smile at each other, and show me that they really do know what each other likes. I can't work the shutter fast enough as they forget I'm there and really get into pleasuring each other. A couple of times, eh? Yeah! These two have wanked each other's brains out for years, they are really getting off on it. They lean closer together, an arm goes round a shoulder, their lips meet and tongues wrap round each other. If these kids ain't lovers, then my dick's a matchstick. And the pressure inside my jeans tells me that ain't so! The arm round the shoulder pulls tighter, the kiss gets stronger, and how the camera shutter doesn't jam at this speed I don't know. A corner of the kiss breaks as two pairs of overfull lungs exhale noisily and twin fountains of boycum shoot high in the air. Again and again they shoot, hands are a blur on cocks, cum falls splattering on faces, chests and arms. Then they lick it off each other's faces! I should double, quadruple the money I paid them for the session! I could retire from the profits of selling pictures like these! Eventually they lay back, exhausted. "Was that alright?" the darker boy asked. "Alright?" I exclaimed, "it was fucking fantastic! What do you do for an encore?" "How much do you pay?" said the blond one, "or would we get more from half of the profits?" "Sounds like you want a business deal!" I laughed. "We'll do the business," said the dark haired boy, "you sell the pictures!" said the blond. The End. Liked it? Tell me. Didn't like it? Tell me why. I don't like to think I'm wasting my time.