Sometimes while browsing the Internet, I find a photo that inspires a character. I start to imagine a story around that character and sometimes I remember it long enough to write it down. That’s the case with this story. The characters are:
Christopher Taylor, age 22, graduating college with a double major in history and political science, best friend is Randall, who’s been his roommate for all four years
Randall, age 22, graduating college with an art history degree, minor in fashion, hopes to be a fashion photographer, best friends with Christopher
Evan, age 27, has both a business and a fashion degree, works as the head assistant to the head of the clothing department of a national retailer.
(I’ve included links to the photos I found that inspired these characters at the end of the story)
My friend Randall stared at me; he kept waiting for me to say something. “Please tell me that you’re interested. This is my big shot.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I had plans for the beginning of summer. I was starting law school in the fall. The money would certainly help. I just kept remembering my mother telling the story over and over again; my sister joining in.
As a very small child, I had done some print ads for a clothing line. To this day, and I’m twenty-two now, she has mentioned how cute I was, how everyone wanted me to model, etc., etc., etc. My sister had been a little more honest, at least with me. She told me that I was well-behaved and followed directions. I wasn’t any cuter than the next kid; I just got the job done. I looked back at my roommate for the past four years. I knew his goals to be a fashion photographer, and I knew this would help him.
“I’m going to have to rearrange some of my plans for the summer, but I’ll do it. I know how important it is to you, and I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I said ‘no,’ would I now?”
Randall jumped up. “I love you, Christopher. You’re the best.”
“I love you, too, Randall.” Not only was Randall my best friend, but he had been my roommate all four years at college. We had shared our ups and downs. He told me he was gay during the first week of our first year. He told me a week later why he was never going back home again. A kid in his high school came out to his friends, and they had been beaten him. Randall’s father had commented that they should have killed him.
I remember hugging him and telling him that I was gay, too. I had not meant to do that. I wanted to know him better to know that I could trust him. That event sealed our friendship. A week before leaving for school, my parents told me that they knew, and they loved me. When I let them know about Randall, they invited him into the family. And that’s why I became part of his senior project.
Randall needed a model for his swimwear project, and I was it. We purchased several styles and colors, and in the freezing winter, he photographed me. The project was on display in the administration building, and it seems the advertising executive of some clothing line saw it. She offered a chance to shoot part of next year’s spring line-up to Randall and his model.
So we’re going to New York the day after my last final. There was only one stipulation. I’m not shaving my chest.
*****
The last time I did a photoshoot, I was a little kid. I didn’t remember any of the coordinated chaos that went on behind the scenes. It seemed that I was in the make-up chair forever; Someone decided I needed a slightly different hair-cut. Someone decided that my legs were just a shade too light. Someone decided that the hair on my inner thighs needed to be trimmed, no thinned, no trimmed and thinned, no thinned first and then decide whether to be trimmed. Two of the hairs around my left nipple needed to be cut back just a bit.
Then I was dressed. The shirt was just a little too loose here--clothespins to adjust the fit for the forward-facing pictures. Man, I was earning this money. I did what they asked without complaint. There were two other models there, and they bitched and moaned the entire time. I just kept thinking, you’re getting an awful lot of money for this; just shut-up.
During the entire process, a man in his early thirties was filming everything. He had a scraggly beard and dirty hair. He gave me the creeps. It seemed as though he were following me around. I kept trying to convince myself that it was all in my imagination. Another man stood farther back, and he kept writing in a notebook. He, on the other hand, was incredibly handsome. I could tell he was a little shorter than I, and he was dressed nicely. When I would catch him looking at me, I’d smile. He smiled back each time. He seemed like the kind of man I’d like to go on a date with.
The shoot went on for the entire day, and toward the end, Randall told me that we would be shooting outside the next day. There was an abandoned factory next to the water, and arrangements had been made for us to meet there the next morning.
There was even more chaos the next morning. Randall and I got there about four-thirty, and I got prepped. We began shooting as the sun came up. Creepy Guy was there, but so was the hunk with the notebook. I decided to talk to Notebook Guy as soon as I got the chance. The others arrived an hour or two later.
Today, the other photographer was a woman. The two models were the same, and they were being bigger assholes than they had been the day before. They wouldn’t get into position easily. They bitched about not being safe. I’d have been on their side had they been in unsafe conditions, but they were complaining just to complain. The advertising client got involved, and I took the opportunity to meet Evan.
Talk about a dream guy. His voice was rich and smooth, and when he smiled, his moustache and dimples did this cute, sexy grin that was part of a little boy and part hot hunk. He was there to document Randall’s activities. He’d spent the last five years working in various positions in the administrative side of things for the fashion house. He started with an internship during the summer of his junior year, and at twenty-seven, he was still happy with the work he was doing. In the middle of our talk, the client called me over.
I was asked to replace the older looking model, and I complied. I was redressed and set to work. The other model, named Stan, stopped complaining with his colleague gone. We did as directed by the photographer, and in the end, I was worn out, standing this way and that, looking happy, sad, serious, confused, contemplative, and so forth. Before heading to wardrobe, I quickly moved to meet up with Evan, but as I approached him, I was intercepted by Creepy Guy.
“Hey, Chris. I’ve been watching you, and of course, filming you for the agency.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” I looked over hoping to catch Evan’s eye before he left, but Evan was already listening intently. He stood just to the left of Creepy Guy and about six feet back.
“Mine name’s Adam. As in GayAdam.com. I think you’d be perfect for the website. Right now we do short videos of guys fucking, but we’re hoping to branch out into full-length features. I know our members would love you, and the money is really good.”
I saw Evan’s brow knit together as his head shook back and forth. I thought of a hundred different things that I could tell him. “My life plans,” I told him, “do not include being a gay porn star, so I’m going to have to decline your offer.”
“OK, well then, let me tell you what I’m going to do.”
“No. I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to leave me alone. We’re still on the job site. I’m still working. If you continue, it’s sexual harassment, so I suggest you leave me alone.”
The fake smile on his face dropped. He moved away.
I turned to Evan. “Would it be harassment if I asked you out on a date?”
“I’d consider it harassment if you didn’t.”
I laughed. “Is tonight too soon?”
“Tonight would be perfect.”
I watched him smile, and I wondered if it was too late to get into NYU for the fall.
-----
Even though I had asked him out, Evan took me to his favorite restaurant and ordered escargot, scallops, and Carribean lobster. I had never eaten any of those, and I found out how much I liked them. After dinner, we strolled down the street back toward my hotel room. We talked about our childhoods and plans for the future. He wanted to remain in New York City until his mid-forties and then move back to the Midwest, Ohio, specifically. He liked growing up on the shores of Lake Erie.
I had grown up in Houston, and I didn’t want to go back. I hoped law school would give me a direction to head. Sometimes I wanted to be a trial lawyer; at other times, I thought about contract law. I just wasn’t sure. At that moment, I just enjoyed talking to him. I thought about asking him up to my room when we got to the apartment, but I wasn’t sure I could resist him, and I wasn’t ready to be intimate with him. I wanted to wait until I had a real boyfriend before going that far with someone. I told him, and he said he understood.
He asked if he could see me the next night, and I told him yes. He kissed me goodnight in front of the whole world. What a wonderful feeling! We exchanged phone numbers. I went to my room, showered, got into bed, and spent the next hour wondering what it would have been like to have him next to me.
I woke up the next morning and found a text message from Evan wishing me a ‘good morning’ and telling me how much he enjoyed my company. I texted back that I had truly enjoyed the evening more than any other date I had ever been on. I wished him a good day and told him that I couldn’t wait to see him that evening. Randall had to work that day, so I had no one with whom to share the feelings I was having. I needed a way to focus. I went down to the lobby and bought a book called “The Toymaker.” It scared the shit out of me, but I couldn’t put it down. I was surprised when Evan called to say he was on his way.
I got ready and met him in the lobby. He took me for another wonderful dinner. After, we went to a comedy shop and listened to some stand-up. Whoa, was it dirty! I had not expected that. Evan could tell that I was embarrassed. I tried to say it was just because I didn’t grow up hearing stuff like that. The way he seemed to care what I said and thought made me like him even more. On the way back, I had decided I would ask him up. Even if I never saw him after tonight, I would have spent the time with someone I cared about who seemed to care about me.
But when we got to the hotel, I couldn’t do it. As I said goodbye to him, I began to cry. I was leaving the next day, and I knew that I would never see him again. He hugged me for an extra-long time, then he said he needed to go. Just as he turned, I saw that he was misty-eyed. I watched him walk away until he was so small, I couldn’t see him in the dark.
I went to my room, texted him ‘Thank you.’ and cried myself to sleep.
I was miserable on the trip back to Houston, and I told Randall why. He was excited; he had been offered a job, and he said he was certain that I was part of the reason. I was excited for him, but my heart was aching.
Once I was back in Houston, I received a text from Evan every day. He told me what he was doing, that he missed me, and that he hoped to see me soon. He got my address and sent me a New York City subway map. I sent him a Houston city map. I wondered how he could write to me with such feelings in his letters and texts when we had only known one another for a few days. But when I was honest with myself, I missed him more than I thought possible. I thought about him all the time. I wondered whether I had made a mistake and should have invited him to spend the night with me.
At night I held a pillow and pretended it was Evan; I snuggled up to it. I ran my hand over it and wondered what it would be like to touch his skin, to squeeze his butt cheeks, to cup his sack in my hand, to hold his manhood and give him pleasure. I played with the hair on my chest and wondered whether he would want to play with it. He had seen me shirtless during the shoot, so he knew how hairy I was. Did he find that attractive? Should I shave for him? What the hell was I doing? He was four hours away--more if the lines at airport security were long. I cried myself to sleep again.
I wanted to get away. I told my parents that I wanted to spend a couple of days at the beach. (I texted Evan as well). I searched for the tent I had used to camp in the backyard. I found it and cleaned the years of dust away. I also had to clean the old cooler. The next morning, I filled the cooler and was ready to put it in the car and take off. My mother told me she was making some special snacks to take with me, but she would tell me what they were, a surprise, she said. I was ordered out of the kitchen. I had the idea that she was taking way too long, but I chalked it up to being anxious to leave.
I heard a car pull into the driveway behind mine. It was my sister. Why was she here, and why did she park behind me? She knew I was taking off this morning. Then I saw Evan get out of the car. I ran outside. My eyes filled with tears. I grabbed him so hard that we almost fell over. I couldn’t stop kissing him.
My sister spoke up. “And here’s the reason Chris has been so miserable since getting back from New York.”
Releasing Evan from my grip, I took a good look at him. His eyes were teary as well.
“I thought I might go camping on the beach,” he said.
“Anywhere you want to go,” I told him. I turned to my sister. “Thank you for bringing him.”
“It was all him,” she told me. “He contacted mom and set it up.”
“I couldn’t stand being away from you. I had to come. Now, I want to change out of these travel clothes and into some shorts and a T.”
“Let’s get your stuff.”
We put his bag in the car; he retrieved some clothes, and we went into the house. I introduced him to my mother and then took him into the bedroom to change. As he stood before me in just underwear, I admitted to him that I regretted not spending that last night with him.
“No regrets, Chris. Regardless of what happens today, tomorrow is a new day for us, and it will be from now on. I’ve been honest with you. You were honest with me. That’s what counts.”
“But I wanted you so much. I still do.”
“You were ready, though, right? Love in its infancy is so fragile. Even a small thing can damage or kill it. That’s why we’re so careful to nurture it.”
“But won’t it still be fragile a year from now, or five years from now?”
“Yes, but we’ll have a history to help us weather the stupidity of the things we’re bound to do.”
“You say that like it’s a foregone conclusion that we’ll do something stupid.”
“Chris, we’re people. People inevitably say or do say something stupid or hurtful. It’s usually not intentional. But I promise to do my best to be understanding.” He reached out for me, and as I came closer, he ran his hand inside my T-shirt and through the hair on my chest. “You are so sexy.”
I took a deep breath. I debated pushing him back on the bed, but I wanted to be with him away from everyone else. “Get dressed so we can get going. I’m trying to save myself for tonight.”
He laughed and slipped into his shorts and T. He brought fancy-looking sandals that he put on his feet.
“The beach will ruin those.”
“I’ve got beach shoes in the car.”
“City boy,” I laughed. He pulled me tight to him and slipped his hands into my underwear and squeezed my ass cheek.
My mother walked into the bedroom. “You’re packed up now.”
“Mother!”
Evan pulled his hand back quickly. I saw him turn red. I felt my cheeks get hot.
“You boys don’t think I know what goes on? Really now. I’m old, but I’m not dead.”
I walked past her and went to the front door where the cooler was now waiting to be loaded. “Good-bye, mom. I love you.”
Evan grabbed the cooler.
“Good-bye, you two. And be safe.” She said it with a smirk.
I held the door open for Evan, and we got the cooler in the car and headed to the beach.
-----
We arrived at the beach at about one-thirty. I found my favorite section; it’s secluded but it has a restroom with a shower not too far away. Plus, there’s vehicle access to the beach, so I was able to park the car on the sand. We set the tent up next to the car. It’s a part of the beach where the sand is packed down, both closer and farther from that spot, the sand is looser.
We ate a sandwich, shared a bottle of water, and covered ourselves with sunscreen. We walked down the beach holding hands with our feet being splashed by the occasional wave. I hadn’t felt this stress-free in a long while. There was a lot of small talk between us until Evan talked about arriving at my house.
“I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew I’d be surprising you, and I didn’t know whether you liked surprises. But when you ran out of the house and hugged me like that, I felt loved.” He stopped walking. “I felt loved as I have never felt loved before.”
I squeezed his hand. “That’s because I love you.” We stood there looking at one another.
“Is it strong enough to overcome the obstacles in front of us,” Evan asked.
“Such as it’s sixteen hundred miles from here to there?” I held his hand up over my heart. “We’ve got to figure it out. I don’t think I can live without you.”
He leaned forward and kissed me. “I can probably fly here once a month to spend the weekend with you.”
“I can try to transfer to NYU for next year. I called and talked to them about this fall, and it’s too late.”
“You’ve already looked into that?” He kissed me again.
“Yeah, I did. I can room with Randall. He’s moving there. They offered him a job.” I tried to keep a straight face.
“You’d move in with Randall? You wouldn’t move in with me?”
“It’s not as if you’ve asked me.” A smile broke through my lips.
“Why you little fucker!” He pushed me down on the sand and began to tickle me. He moved on top of me to pin me down.
I rolled, and he found himself under me. He stopped squirming; I looked deeply into his eyes. We were still, just looking at each other, and my cock began to swell. Evan felt it and reach down to massage it through my clothing. I felt connected to him. With our gazes locked together, I could feel him getting hard as well. I reached down and into his underwear. I could feel the warm, sweaty hardness. My hand continued down, and soon the hot loose sac holding his balls was in my palm. Although we continued to look into one another’s eyes, I saw a change come over Evan’s face, and he stopped rubbing my dick.
My fingers gently held his scrotum; my palm and wrist moved against his shaft. I could sense a change in his breathing. His erection got harder. Almost in the same instant, his eyes seemed to lose focus and roll up; his lids closed, and he released a stream of ejaculate up and out of his pants. He moaned as he breathed out. I left my hand and arm against his manhood as he slowly became flaccid.
“I love you, Christopher Taylor.”
I got up on all fours and leaned forward to kiss him. He reached up and pulled my shorts and underwear down, exposing my cock and balls to the ocean air. Then he used one hand to pull my face closer. I can’t explain what he did with his tongue. It ignited senses that I didn’t know I had. With his other hand, he slid under my shirt and ran his fingers through my chest hair. My dick got harder. It seemed to throb in rhythm to the movement of his tongue. The sphincter of my ass began to contract and release in the same rhythmic pulse. I felt my abs contract, and I came. My cock, pointing forward and down toward my lover, with no physical contact on it, spewed forth three times.
Evan’s shirt was covered in my love juices. He had just given me the most intense orgasm, yet he had not jerked my cock. The experience was surreal, and when he released my mouth from his, I could do nothing but stare at him and pant.
-----
It was cooler in the evening than I had expected. There had been a brief rain shower, and the wind was still gusting. We had cleaned up under the shower and did our best to keep the sand out of our tent. We had been very quiet since that afternoon, but we had kept touching and kissing one another. Turkey and cheese sandwiches satisfied our dinner needs, and a surprise of cherry fried pies took care of dessert.
We sat in the tent on an open sleeping bag with our legs and feet touching. We were shirtless, and our bare arms would bump together from time to time. It was another perfect moment. I wanted to hold on to it. Even though I was sure there would additional moments in the future, each one was precious. This was my third of the day. Does anyone deserve that many? I thought about seeing Evan get out of the car, looking into his eyes and kissing him on the beach, and now. I looked over at him, leaned forward, and kissed him.
He kissed me back, and we fell back on the warm, fuzzy lining of the sleeping bag. I made little circles on his chest with my finger. “I want our love to be as endless as these circles I’m making.”
“I’ve never wanted a tattoo,” Evan told me, “but if I ever got one, I think it would be a tiny circle made up of your name right where you’re touching me now.”
I kissed the spot that I had been touching.
“Take your underwear off for me.” His voice was soft, not demanding, and I complied without a second thought. He slid his off and reached over into the little bag next to his head. He handed me a condom and some lube. “I want to feel you inside me. This might sound strange; I’ve been fucked twice before, but I’ve never been loved before.
“I’m completely yours, Chris. I belong to you. I knew it earlier today when you ran out of your house. Everything that has happened since has reaffirmed it to me.” He reached up and touched my already hard penis. “Before you, every man I felt attracted to was a dick with a guy attached to it. You’re a man with a wonderful personality. A man with a beautiful face. A man with a great, sexy chest. A man with a cute ass. A man with strong muscular legs. A man with a beautiful penis. Make love to me, Chris.”
I leaned forward and kissed him again. With a little lube on my fingers, I massaged his manhole and opened him. His rumbling moans and tiny gasps excited me. He helped me get the condom on, and we applied more lube to it. With his knees pulled apart, his hole looked like a trembling slit that begged for me to satisfy it. I placed the head of my cock against it and leaned forward to kiss Evan again. The motion pushed me into him, and he sucked air in. His eyes begged me to continue, and as my shaft continued to enter him, I saw tears form in his eyes. Not once did he grimace in pain, but I could tell by the way he exhaled that he was in discomfort adjusting to my entry. Then he began to move his hips. My shaft moved in and out without my doing. I felt the rhythm and matched it; soon I was penetrating him as far as I physically could and then sliding until only my crown remained inside him. The motion was slow and deliberate. Our mouths locked together, and just as they had that afternoon, our tongues performed the dance of eternal love.
With our bodies physically joined, we realized a joy from the love that neither of us had previously witnessed. His muscles grabbed my penis tightly and held it in place to rub across his prostate. He reached around and began to pull on my ass as if to pull more of me inside. Evan’s rod began to bounce up and down, and I felt my ball sack tighten up. As I tried to shove myself even deeper into Evan, I began to fill the condom. Evan responded to the change in rhythm by coming over his abs. I started to move to slide beside him when he moved his hands to the side of my waist and held me in place.
“Don’t move yet. I still feel you inside. I want to hold onto that sensation.”
I remained motionless. I could feel my cock lose its hardness and slowly slide out of him. Even that sensation was incredible. When I finally laid beside Evan, I realized the condom was still on my flaccid penis. I pulled it off and put a knot in it as I had been taught. Evan laughed and snuggled me. We were naked on the sleeping bag listening to the wind. A gentle rain started and lulled us to sleep.
Christopher: http://sweatypitlover.tumblr.com
addition photos of Chris at: https://track-three.tumblr.com/post/89238587375
Randall: https://www.twipu.com/klee_van
Evan: http://www.kennethinthe212.com/2019/05/mug-shot-monday_20.html
