Date: Sun, 12 Mar 2017 01:00:21 +0000 (UTC)
From: Marc McClean <mj_mclean2001@yahoo.com>
Subject: Finally in Focus

This is an erotic story about man-to-man sexual activities. If you are
offended by such material, too young to read such, or it is illegal in your
community, stop here and find something that won't get you in
trouble. Otherwise, please enjoy! And if you do, please drop me a note at
mj_mclean2001@yahoo.com Thanks!

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FINALLY IN FOCUS
By MJ McLean

I rounded a sharp curve in the road, swerving to avoid a hole that would
have ripped the front axle from my Prius.

"Fuck." This car wasn't meant to climb mountains. Neither was I, for that
matter, but here we both were, 10 miles from the main highway, another 25
from town. I was going to wind up coyote meat for sure.

As I made another sharp turn into what would have passed as a cul-de-sac in
suburbia, I spotted Tim's Jeep. Finally. I pulled alongside it, taking a
breath to unleash a whole string of obscenities. Then I spotted Tim.

I felt my breath catch. I smiled in spite of myself. Tim was unloading
equipment and didn't look up right away. He brushed something from his
blond curls Ð a bug, no doubt Ð and set a duffle and a long black
case on the ground, his jeans-clad ass thrust out. I sighed.

He stood and turned. He grinned and reached for my car door, opening it.

"Chris, you made it, dude! Am I glad to see you. I hope you're ready to
work your ass off."

I climbed out of the car and stretched. Chris bro-hugged me and my heart
skipped half a beat as I felt his arms wrap around me, however briefly.

"I'm here," I said. I looked around at the trees Ð the woods, the actual
goddamn woods Ð and sighed. "Wherever here is." I tapped my phone.
Barely one bar. If something happened, I was definitely the main course for
a coyote. Or a wolf, a big bad wolf. "So what's on the agenda?"

I knew my agenda was mostly lifting and lugging and following directions
from Tim, a big-shot photographer and my best friend since high school. He
could afford paid assistants for his commercial shoots and paid gigs, but
this was a personal project. I'd probably get dinner out of it, if that. I
didn't care. Tim was worth it.

"The usual," he said, rummaging in the Jeep. "You're my personal Sherpa."
He turned and winked.

I sighed. His green tee-shirt stretched tight across his chest. His nipples
poked out. I tried not to check out what was below the belt, but I stole a
glimpse. I sighed again. Thank god there was a model today, a third person
to distract me.

I had been hot for my best friend for years. I felt like such a
clichŽ. Except he knew about it, teases me sometimes. Tim is straight,
but barely. He hugged, he kissed me on the cheek, he cuddled on the couch
when he watched TV. But we'd drawn lines and I knew better than to cross
them.

He bent over again. Fuck. It's like he had the jeans tailor-made to frame
his ass. I felt my cock stir and walked into the gravel clearing.

"So where's the model?" I asked, looking at the road.

Tim didn't answer. I turned around. "Tim, the model, where is he?"

He stood and looked at me. "Chris, my best friend, have I ever told you how
much I appreciate you? How much I depend on you? How much I Ð "

"Tim, what's going on?" I shifted nervously. I could see what was coming.

"He bagged on me. I got the text just before you got here. I got a paying
gig today and all I could offer was portfolio shots."

"Um," I said, "so what's that mean? You look like you're still unpacking.
You going to try some landscapes?"

"Chris, has anyone every told you you ought to be a model?" He tried to
leer, but couldn't pull it off.

"No, Tim, no fucking way," I said. "First, I am not a model and never will
be. And I'm not going to model for you today, no way."

"Please? Oh, please, Chris? Do I need to get down on my knees? I bet you'd
like that, wouldn't you?" He dropped to his knees and I stepped back,
worried I might pull his head into my crotch. "C'mon, Chris, this is the
only weekend I have for a month and I need to get some shots for my
project. I might get a showing if I can finish."

I said nothing.

"Chris, it's an easy one, just some shots in a little meadow through the
trees over there. It would mean so much, buddy. Please?"

I actually saw a little desperation in his eyes. I knew this was a passion
of his. "Tim, I'm not a model. But É "

He leaped up and threw his arms around me, squeezing. "Chris, you're a
lifesaver, thank you so much." He kissed me on the cheek. He kissed me. If
he'd started there, we could have skipped the begging scene for sure.



We lugged the equipment about a quarter mile through the woods into a
lovely meadow. That's the first word I thought of. Lovely. Orange and
yellow flowers grew amid green grasses. A tiny stream gurgled along one
side. I half expected Bambi and Thumper to enter from the other side.

"Where'd you find this place, Tim?" He was setting up tripods and
reflectors and a fill flash Ð he'd taught me a few things Ð and
didn't really hear me. I wandered around, stopped, squatted down and picked
an orange flower. Put it to my nose. Meh. It was prettier to look it. I
heard clicking and turned to find Tim pointing a camera at me, squeezing
off shots.

"You didn't tell me we were starting," I said.

"You didn't tell me you were going to do that," Tim said. It just looked
É right. Natural. I couldn't resist." He smiled, a warm smile, free of
the smirk he was so good at. "Just walk around a little. Be yourself."

As soon as he said that, of course, I worried about every step I
took. Nothing felt natural. I walked over to the stream and leaned down to
scoop up some water. Ughhh! There were bugs swarming around the surface. I
tried to back up and slipped on a rock, falling flat on my ass.

Tim howled, snapping more pictures. "That's it, Chris, you've got it!"

I turned and tried to snarl, but snickered instead. I pulled a handful of
grass and tossed it at him. Snap, snap, snap. He was in a zone now.

I walked around some more, found a stretch of the stream with fewer bugs
and splashed my hand in it. Cold, but it felt good.

"Take off your shoes and socks, put your bare feet in the water." Chris
spoke quietly, framing me.

I was about to protest, but I knew he'd win, so I followed the
directions. I walked tenderly to the edge of the water and dipped a toe
into it. Still cold, but I flicked the water and finally stepped in. I
could feel rocks on the bottom and mud, but it felt É good. I put my
other foot in and took a few tentative steps. Snap, snap, snap. I felt
something crawl around my toes and squealed. I jumped out of the stream and
swore.

"Perfect!" Tim yelled. "Chris, you're a fucking natural at this. C'mon back
over here."

He attached a camera to a tripod. He showed me where to stand. He took me
by the shoulders and turned my torso, then arranged my arms. He turned my
head. I tried not to shiver as he touched me. My breathing grew more rapid.

Tim shot pictures and gave me directions to shift and told me where to
look. He had me reach my arms in different directions and tousle my hair.

He stopped and stared at me. "Take off your shirt?"

It was a question. His voice was soft. "Tim, I told you, I'm no model. I
don't think I even have a two-pack. I'm Ð I'm not what you want."

"Oh, but you're exactly what I want," Tim said. "Exactly. Please? Take off
your shirt?"

I wanted to argue, but instead I pulled off my blue polo. I heard the
camera click as I peeled it over my head and tossed it onto the grass. A
breeze tickled my bare chest. My nipples hardened. Without thinking, I ran
my hand down the smooth skin.

"Fuck, yeah, perfect," Tim said, almost to himself more than me. Snap,
snap, snap. "Walk over there a little." He picked a couple of flowers and
handed them to me. "Brush your chest with these."

I tried not to giggle. I took the flowers and ran them around my chest, my
stomach. I brushed my nipples, then put them to my nose.

"Shit, yes," Tim said. "Let's go over by those rocks." He picked up the
other camera and snapped off some more shots as I climbed on top of a pile
of rocks and stretched."

He stood and stared. I tried not to stare back. I could swear his jeans
were tighter than before. I know mine were.

"Chris," he said. "Are you wearing underwear?"

The question caught me off guard. "Yeah, I mean, of course, but É no,
Tim, this is as far as I go. Don't even ask. Don't, OK?"

"What kind?" he said, ignoring my protests.

"What?"

"What kind of underwear?"

"Boxer briefs. Black. But Tim Ð "

"C'mon Chris, it's like you're wearing shorts. It'll be easy. I brought a
Speedo for my model, be glad I'm not asking you to put that on."

I didn't know why, but I unbuckled my jeans, willing my cock not to go
full-mast. My cock wasn't listening. This was such a bad idea. I hesitated,
then saw something in Tim's eyes. He was in another place and I wanted to
be there too. I pushed my jeans down and stepped out of them.

I stood on the rocks, almost naked. My black boxer briefs showed it all,
the hard length of my cock on my thigh. I almost reached for my jeans, but
saw Tim held up his hand.

"Don't," he said. "It's no big thing." He smirked. "Well, I mean, it's kind
of a big thing, but É" He laughed. "Lots of models get É aroused when
they're posing. It's nothing to worry about. It'll probably É go down as
you get comfortable."

I looked at Tim, at that tight tee-shirt, at his jeans Ð they looked
snugger, no doubt Ð and shook my head. Yeah, I'm going to be hard for a
while.

I resisted the urge to adjust my hard-on. I watched Tim walk over, snapping
pictures. I tried to cover my cock and he smiled. Snap, snap, snap. He
stood in front of me. He stepped in one direction and then another, then
put some distance between us and somehow, I relaxed and my hard-on ebbed.

Tim walked closer again.

"All the best models do nudes, you know," he said, his voice thick. "It's
really not so scary. It's not like I haven't seen you naked." He walked
around me, snapping pictures.

It was like he'd hypnotized me. As he circled me, I reached for the
waistband of my shorts. I peeled them off. I thought I heard a branch
snap. I yanked the shorts up, catching my cock in the cloth so it pointed
up, over the top of the waistband.

"Someone's here, Tim, god, who's here?"

Tim laughed. "No one's here. It just É birds, probably. No one will see
you here." He looked at me, at my cock, which was mostly deflated
now. "See, that helped a little." He reached for the waistband and tugged
until they fell to the ground.

I reddened, felt exposed, tried not to look at Tim. I looked at the woods,
at the stream. He saw my glance.

"That's it, go walk in the water again." I obeyed, feeling the breeze on my
bare ass and my cock. I waded into the water. Tim got ahead of me, leaned
down and splashed some water on me. I felt the cold droplets and squealed
again, then laughed. Snap, snap, snap.

"Let's go back by the tripod." As we walked, I picked up the flower again
and, in a moment of whimsy, tucked it into my pubes, the orange blossom
like a crown on my cock.

Tim saw it and laughed. "That's perfect, c'mere." He adjusted the camera on
the tripod and showed me where to stand, facing sideways. He adjusted me
again, my shoulders, arms. He nudged my hips. I shivered and felt my cock
stir again. Fuck.

He palmed his remote and walked over to me. He stood, his back to mine. "I
always like to do a shot of me with the model. Just look straight ahead." I
heard the camera whir. He was triggering it with the remote.

Tim paused. Behind me, I heard the rustle of cloth. I turned to look and
saw him pulling his tee-shirt off.

"No, don't move," he said. I want the framing identical. Just stand still."
I heard more rustling, then felt Tim back up to me again. His ass brushed
mine. His naked ass.

"Tim, are you É"

"I'm naked, yeah, don't move."

Whir. I felt his warm skin against mine and I lost the battle again. My
cock grew. And grew. Finally the Tim moved back toward the camera.

I caught my breath. I'd seen Tim naked before, but out here in the woods,
in this meadow, he looked so É fuck, I grew harder as I watched his
smooth ass, saw the sun on his skin.

"Um, Tim?" I said. "I think I may have ruined your last shots. I, um, kinda
moved. Or part of me did."

He turned around. His cock was almost as hard as mine. It bounced in the
sunlight. Tim looked at me, at my cock. "I see," he said. He idly stroked
himself. "I always did like balance in my shots."

I whimpered. I fucking whimpered as Tim stroked himself again and walked
toward me. He stood in front of me. I moved closer and risked everything. I
leaned in and brushed his lips with mine. He responded, his lips pressing
mine. I felt his tongue slide across and toward mine.

I reached for his shoulders and deepened the kiss. I pushed my tongue into
his mouth, sucking on his tongue. He pulled me into him and I shuddered as
our bodies connected.

I ran my hands down his back, kneading his shoulders. I came up for air and
plunged my mouth back on his, grunting. I felt his hard cock on mine and I
thrust into him. He reached down and fondled my balls.

I leaned back and then down to his nipple, his left one. I licked it,
flicking it with my tongue. He groaned. I sucked on it, pinching his right
nipple with my hand. I sucked and nibbled and ran my hand lightly down his
abs until I found his hard cock, and mine. I stroked them together.

This time he whimpered. I stroked us and I shivered and flushed at the same
time.

God, I had so much I wanted to ask, so many questions. What the fuck was
this? He's straight, isn't he? I mean, this is way behind
heteroflexible. God I wanted him so bad, for so long.

I kept it all inside and dropped to my knees. I licked his cock, tasting
the salt from a drop of precum. I swirled my tongue around the head and
licked the underside of the shaft. He moaned.

"God, Chris, this is É this is É I want you É"

"Shhh É later." I let his hard cock slide onto my tongue and into my
throat. I tightened my lips around him. I tugged on his balls as I
sucked. His hips bucked and he yelled out.

"Fuck, yes!"

He gently pulled me up and kissed me again. He dug into one of his duffles
and pulled out a quilt. I raised my eyebrows.

"A prop," he said, almost in a whisper. "Swear."

He spread it on the grass and kneeled, pulling me down. We faced each other
on our knees. I kissed him again, my hands in his curls, my tongue
exploring his mouth. He reached down and stroked my cock. He eased me down
on the quilt.

We lay next to each other, kissing, fondling, caressing. I stroked our
cocks together again. He turned himself around until his mouth was in front
my my cock and his cock at my mouth. I felt the warmth of his mouth as he
started to suck on me, tentatively, toothily at times.

God, I thought, he hasn't done this much. My cock throbbed harder and I
took him back in my mouth. I sucked on him, eased back and licked his
balls, taking each in my mouth. I felt him mimic my movements, clumsily,
but fuck it felt good.

I sucked his cock, felt his balls start to tighten. Mine did the same.

"Not like this," I whispered. "Turn back around."

We were face to face again. We kissed, sucking lips. He sucked on my
neck. I nibbled on his ears. We thrust our throbbing cocks together,
writhing on the quilt. Our legs tangled. We rolled over. He was on top of
me, then I was on top of him, thrusting my cock in to him.

We rolled back onto our sides. Tim cried out. I felt a warmth explode onto
my thigh. He grunted and moaned and his cock pumped again and again.

My cock grew slick with his come and I felt my balls tighten again, felt
the come start to shoot. I moaned and thrust. My come shot onto Tim's
thighs and mine, mixing with his. I thrust and we rolled over again.

I kissed Tim deeply, then fell onto my back.



We lay in the sun for what seemed like hours, but was only about 20
minutes. We dozed a little. He cradled me. I caressed him. I kissed him
again.

Finally, we stood, wordlessly. We dressed and put away his equipment. His
photographic equipment.

We walked back to the cars in contented silence. Tim repacked his Jeep. We
stood.

He kissed me.

"I don't do this with all my models, you know, Chris," he said. "You're the
first."

I smiled shifted nervously, wondering if this was where he would say what
we'd done was a one-time thing, that when we drove back through the
clearing, onto the rough road, we'd be friends again.

"This isn't a one-time thing," he said at last. "At least I hope not. I
have a lot to say. Obviously. A lot. I hope you'll want to listen. And then
É well, we'll see?"

He seemed as unsure of himself in that moment as I've ever seen him. I
leaned in and kissed him, took him in my arms. I whispered in his ear. "I
want to hear it all. And then maybe do it all."

Tim looked like a kid on Christmas.

With a bounce in his step, he reached into the Jeep for his phone.

"Dammit, still no signal. I lost all my bars when I turned off the
highway. Can I use yours for a sec?"

I handed him my phone. Then stopped. "Tim," I said. "I thought you said
your model canceled on you just before I got here. If you don't have a
signal É"

He winked. "About that, Chris É"



The End