Date: Sat, 28 Apr 2012 09:10:36 +0200
From: Moritz <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Subject: The Triathlete And His Photographer - Chapter ONE - Gay - Beginnings
This is my sixth story. I hope you enjoy reading this new story. I should
also like to thank Charles (USA) for all his help in the preparation of
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 need help improving some new prose. 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.
Usual disclaimers apply on this story - All characters are fictional and
any resemblance to anyone living is a coincidence.
If you are not of legal rights and/or age to read adult literature or if
you find the material offensive, please do not read any further.
The author and site cannot be held liable as you agree to accept all
responsibility for reading said material.
Hope you enjoy!
The Triathlete And His Photographer
Editor: Charles (USA)
My cell phone rang. I glanced at the screen, but the number was not
familiar to me.
"Hi, this is Moritz Janson."
"Hello, this is Miguel Pittmann. I'm calling because I saw you last
Sunday during the triathlon competition. You took a lot of pictures
there of the contestants. You were wearing a T-shirt that had your
web site on it and said that you take photos for free. I have looked
at your web site and find your photos very nice. I wanted to ask
if you might have taken a photo of me during the competition, and
if maybe I could get a few copies. I'd love to have some nice photos
of me at this event."
I told him, "I'll have to see whether I took any pictures of you during
the competition. Could you please give me the starting number
from your shirt? That way, I can check the photos for your number,
and see if I've got a picture of you. I would then call you back to let
you know. Your phone number is on my caller ID. May I call you
back at this number?"
"Sure you can. It'd be great if you could find photos of me. I could
even pay you for your time and trouble, a little."
"Please, no payment required, you don't have to give me anything.
I am strictly an amateur photographer. And as you've already seen
on my web site, I'm all about free photos. Like I said, if I find any
with you in them, I'll get back to you."
"Okay, I hope to hear from you."
The call was over. The caller's voice sounded really sexy, but you
can easily be fooled by the voice. Far too often, I had met people
in person who on the phone had had very pleasant voices: their
outer layer was far less appealing. Once burned, as the saying goes.
Anyway, I had Miguel's starting number in hand and sat myself down
at the computer to scan through the photos from last Sunday for
his number. I was astonished. I didn't need long to find photos with
Miguel's number, because on that Sunday I had focused my camera
on only two participants: just two young male triathletes who had
me really interested. And Miguel, number 5964, was one of the two!
I was very excited.
What a coincidence that one of the two young men who were
particularly attractive had now contacted me and wanted to have
copies of the pictures I'd taken of him that Sunday.
This meant that I would now get to briefly speak with him and
maybe even get to know him personally. I looked again at the
pictures of Miguel much more critically to make sure there weren't
any I had better not show to him. Some shots were very good and
relatively neutral (i.e., not too sexy). These photos I would be able
to show Miguel without problems. So I pulled up Miguel's cell phone
number and dialed it. Soon enough, I heard his voice.
"Hello, this is Miguel."
"Hi, Miguel. Moritz here again. I've looked at the pictures from last
Sunday and there are some really nice pictures of you here.
If you want, you're welcome to come by and look at them here.
If you can bring a USB stick, I can then save the pictures to it for you."
"That's great. I have a lot of free time. When would it suit you, then?
"It would be good for me if you could maybe come in an hour, so
I have time to prepare the pictures a little bit and optimize."
"That works. I'll be there in an hour. Where do you live?"
I gave Miguel my address and sat down immediately to the computer
with three of the most accomplished photos I had taken, to quickly
follow up with Photoshop. As always, when I'm optimizing
photographs, the time flies by. Suddenly my doorbell rang. In just
a few seconds, I would be standing face to face with Miguel.
Opening the door, I encountered a strikingly handsome young man.
Miguel was about 6'1" and had dark brown medium-length hair.
His skin was tanned and beautiful. I'd say he was the Mediterranean type.
Miguel was about 23 or 24. During the competition he was drenched
in sweat, his hair plastered to his skin. His face was often somewhat
distorted due to his herculean efforts. But now he stood with his
hair styled and totally relaxed in front of me.
Incidentally, I myself am 32 years old. I'm openly gay, although
sometimes that causes problems for me - especially if I want to
photograph young men. They automatically assume I'd also want sex
from them. But the fact is that very few of the men I've photographed
in recent years, have I subsequently had sex with. More important
than sex to me is actually a building a friendship with them.
I think there's nothing more interesting than documenting photo-
graphically how a young man grows and changes over the course of
Not until it was much too late did I remember that I should've taken
down the pictures hanging on all the walls in my hallway and in my
living room. Seeing them, Miguel would figure out I'm gay, and that
would probably spook him. But there was nothing to do now except
open the door and let the chips fall where they may.
"Please come in," I said.
Miguel walked into the hallway and looked first at the large-format
photographs that I had taken and had hung in the hallway. The photos
- only of young men - were pretty erotic, I had to admit.
Some I had taken during sporting events; others, in my makeshift studio.
"Hmm, professional photos!" Miguel said, without going into details.
"Thanks, I do try," I replied. "Why don't we go through to the living
room, where my computer is with the photos."
As Miguel went ahead, I admired his round ass and his muscular thighs.
(Hey, I may be a perfect gentleman, but I'm not crazy.) His form-fitting
jeans framed his butt and his legs to perfection. His jeans weren't
skin tight, but damn close. His T-shirt was pretty snug, too. I had to smile.
The nice thing about athletes is that they are proud of their bodies and
love to show them off to other people. Regardless of whether they
were gay or straight, many didn't mind all that much if you happened
to see them in flagrante delicto, so to speak.
"Do you take photos at these events often?" he asked.
"Yes, whenever I have time."
"And do you work only here in Hamburg or also in the surrounding area?"
"Unfortunately, I can only take photos in Hamburg, because I haven't
had a car for 2 years."
"Really? How come?"
"Well, several reasons. For one, some time ago I was in a bad car
accident, so the prospect of driving a car is no longer pleasant for me.
Besides, photography is one of the more expensive hobbies, and by
not having a car these days, I can spend more of my money on
photo equipment and other technical toys."
"Me, I'd be totally up shit creek (oops, sorry) without my car; I need
it to get to various competitions throughout Northern Germany."
"Makes sense. By the way, Miguel, just out of curiosity, how is
it that you have a Spanish first name and a German last name?"
"Oh, that's easy, my mother is Spanish and my father is German."
"Ah, I see. Well, I've got some nice photos of you, I hope you
like them," I said, getting down to the business at hand. I had
noticed that all during our talk, Miguel had been looking at the
pictures on the wall. I was afraid that the erotic nature of the
photographs I had taken of these young men, might make him
I had already pulled up a second chair next to my desktop computer.
I sat down in front of the PC and Miguel took the seat next to me.
It was quite a struggle for me not to gape at the phenomenal body
of the young athlete so conspicuously beside me. So when I did
look, I tried at least to be subtle. Now that he had sat down,
the fabric of his jeans stretched around his thighs and afforded
me a luscious glimpse of his powerful thighs.
But gathering my wits, I disabled the screen saver and the first
photo of Miguel appeared, one of those I had already cropped
"Wow, that photo is fantastic! You call yourself an amateur
photographer, but I can't imagine a professional could have done
any better. If you have two or three more shots of me at this
quality, I'll be in hog heaven. And my visit here will have been
more than worth it."
Miguel's face beamed as he studied the photo on the screen (while
I studied Miguel). In order to see the photo on the screen at the
best possible angle, Miguel had to sit right next to me and put
his left arm around my chair. His body gave off a light fragrance.
I couldn't tell whether it was his cologne or merely his deodorant,
but whatever it was, it was dizzying.
I clicked to the next image.
"Day-amn, this next photo is really about the limit," Miguel said.
"I think I'd like to have that one blown up and made into a poster.
A picture like that of me during a race is exactly what I've been
Again, while Miguel stared critically at his picture on the monitor,
I used the time to give him the once-over from top to bottom.
His strong upper arms and chest muscles were world-class eye candy.
But whenever Miguel pointed out on the screen which details he
particularly liked in a photo, I would avert my gaze from him to look
at the computer.
"How did you manage to get everything in focus so well?" he asked.
"Well, first, I've been taking photos now for many years; and second,
I have accumulated some professional equipment over the years,
like a couple of ultra-fast lenses and an external flash unit.
Together, they minimize the exposure time and virtually freeze an
athlete's movements. One of those lenses alone costs more than
2,000 Euros (almost $2,700)."
"I like this one, too," he said. Again he pointed out what he thought
I had succeeded in capturing the best, but he also showed me a thing
or two that he didn't like. Here, his form was not perfect. There,
a shadow was not particularly flattering. All the while, as he stared
intently at the monitor, I used the time to study Miguel up close and
enjoy his physical proximity.
We looked at a few other photos that Miguel also liked quite well.
"So, did you bring a USB flash drive as we discussed over the phone?"
Miguel started to pull the USB stick from his pants pocket. But
Because his pants were so tight, this was something of a challenge.
As he valiantly struggled to extricate the USB stick from its sturdy
denim constraints, I couldn't help noticing that the bulge in his crotch
was nothing short of heroic.
I connected Miguel's USB stick to my computer and it copied the
images to his flash drive. Miguel was almost beside himself.
"You've really made so many terrific photos of me and loaded them
onto my flash drive so I can make some really nice prints of myself.
I can make even make two amazing posters - and all this without any
payback. Isn't there some way I can repay you for these photos? It
just doesn't seem right to me that you should give me something so
great, while I give you zip in return."
"Well, I do know one way you could return the favor, if you really
want. But if you don't like my proposal, you can just say no and I'll
understand," I replied.
"Tell me what I can do for you, and I'll do it," Miguel said without
"It's pretty simple," I said. "Taking pictures is my joy in life. If you
still have a little time, I'd like to take a few more pictures of you
right here and now."
"Of course, no problem," Miguel said. "That much, I owe you."
Then he looked at a few of the posters I had hanging on the wall in
the living room, and he suddenly grinned. "But I hope," he said,
"you don't expect to photograph me with not much on but my
after-shave, like some of these other guys on the wall here."
Most of the young men were clad only in their underwear. Some
Of them were naked, although you couldn't see their genitalia in
any of the photos. Either their crotches were turned away from the
camera or the athletes had kept them covered with their hands.
"No, no, you misunderstand," I said. "All I want to do is take some
pictures of you with your shirt off."
"Okay, I have no problems with that, as long as you don't ask me to
take off everything. I'd be happy to pose for you, and maybe if
a few of the photos turn out okay, you could save those for me on
my flash drive, as well."
"But before we start, I gotta ask, Moritz: are you gay?"
Damn, was all lost? How should I answer him? What did he want
to hear? I thought for a moment and then replied, "Yes, I am."
"Okay, I figured as much. If you had lied about it just now, I
would have taken my USB stick and gone home. Frankly, I don't
care whether you're gay, bi, or straight. I just want people
to be up front about it. So let's take the pictures. I'll do my best."
"Fine, I'll get my camera right away."
"You'll have to tell me exactly what to do," said Miguel.
Bless thee, Heavenly Father, for what I am about to receive.
..... 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
Please help keep Nifty a free service by donating a little money.
Go to their donation page at