The Price Of Dick (7 page)

“
I don’t know if I’m real comfortable with some of this stuff, dude,” he said in his manliest voice. “I mean, I want to help you out, but I’ve never done any of this stuff with a guy!”

Tongue
biting.

“
Why don’t you relax and just follow Mike's lead from here?” I said. “He’s done a few of these shoots and he can make it easier for you.” That didn’t infringe upon Dick’s “method acting,” but it would get the ball rolling.

“
This is some gay shit, dude. He’s gay. I’m not gay. There’s a little difference about which one of us can relax, if you know what I mean?” He pushed the charade to the next level. I was quickly becoming exasperated. I wanted to belt him a good one in that cartoon chin of his.

In
my most calm, professional voice, I said, “Okay, we can do it without showing your face. How about that?”

He looked between the two of us like he was debating it.
“I don’t know...”

Mike looked as
frustrated as I felt. “I have an idea. Why don’t we just do it like a buddy shoot? We can arm wrestle and play a drinking game or something? How 'bout that?”

Anything
to just get some more shots, I thought.

They did just those things.
Arm-wrestled and played a drinking game. Not what I wanted. Not what I had scripted, but remarkably, I got some great shots of guys bonding like I’d never gotten before. I hated to admit it, but I was pleased, even though they were both getting visibly inebriated. They were enjoying each other’s company at this point, and Dick’s body language had relaxed, allowing him to emerge from his fictitious bubble. He allowed a few shots of actual body contact between them. A manly hug.

Glancing at my watch, we were already five hours into a romance shoot in which I had more
Bromance shots than romance. Frustration. Tired acceptance. I sat down, scanned the pictures I’d taken, and rubbed my hands across my dry, scratchy eyes. I had a lot of good, saleable pictures, even if I didn’t have what I set out to accomplish for the day. Count my blessings rather than complain. It was the workaholic in me that always wanted exactly what I wanted and more.

“
It’s a shame you’re not gay, man,” Mike said to Dick, tongue thick, but grinning like a number one fan in the presence of a favorite rock star. “You’re like everything a gay guy wants. You’re gorgeous, built like a brick shit house. There isn’t a gay dude who wouldn’t beg to be sucking your dick. It’s a real crime against the gay world that we always lust after fucking straight guys who won’t give it up. It sucks. Maybe it’s because we can’t have you that we want you even more.”

One look at Dick
and I could tell that he may have been drunk, but he was eating that shitload of compliments up and waiting for more.

“
You’re a cool guy too,” he told the awestruck pool boy. “If I were gay... I’d probably do it with you. I think you’d be fun. But I dig chicks. That’s it, you understand? But you’re hot, too. You just ain’t my kind of hot. The right body parts, I mean, that kind of hot.”

My ears pricked up at that. My camera trigger finger needed to be on guard.
Those were conciliatory words coming out of his mouth. He was stepping down a notch from unobtainable.

He poured them both another shot. They slammed it.
Dick’s impish grin appeared.

“
Oh, what the hell,” he said with a convincing sigh of resignation. “I’ll give it a shot for you. Just don’t make it feel too weird for me. You can go ahead and kiss me.”

I wanted to
shout a curse from the relief I felt. My camera rose, finger over the button. One barrier down.

Mike appeared astonished by Dick
’s change of heart. “Really? You’re not fucking with me? Yanking my chain?”

“
I haven’t got anything against gay people. Once did a three-way with a chick and another guy. Our dicks kinda rubbed together during a DP, so it ain’t like I ain’t been in a situation where I was up close and personal with another dick before. I mean I wasn’t in it for him, but there you go. Just never kissed a guy. Hasn’t made it to my bucket list yet.”

I remember staring at him as he said this. His expression was completely believable. I had seen it myself when he said pretty much the same thing to me before I
‘taught’
him to kiss. I didn’t know what to feel. I do remember thinking he was a most proficient liar to be able to tell the same lie twice to two people and make it appear to be the truth in both instances. He would call it acting. At this point I didn’t see the difference. I wondered if he could pass a lie detector test. He would probably make a great criminal.

The camera began
clicking under my anxious finger.

The
ir two heads came tenuously together, eyes closed after the aim, mouths opened. Lips hooked each other. The kiss started with dubious hesitancy, no hands involved. Then continued with intention. Then purpose. It lasted long enough for me to take thirty consecutive pictures; thirty seconds. That was a long kiss. As they parted, eyes opened and they examined each other’s expressions.

Mike
appeared trancelike. “What did you think?” he asked. He longed for some manner of confirmation of an effect on Dick similar to the effect on himself.

Dick wouldn
’t give him that. “Really strange. I mean your whiskers were a little scratchy. Your skin feels all different. Do you guys really like that?”

The younger man looked crestfallen
; touched his chin as if checking for the sandpaper feel. The light of hope dimmed considerably in his eyes. For just a moment, he looked on the verge of tears.

Dick pulled him back from the edge by pouring another shot for each of them
. “Maybe we should try it again,” he said. “This time with some hand action in there. I’m a guy who kinda likes the feel of hands on me.”

A ray of hope emerged in the younger
man’s eyes. I kept shooting.

This time they tackled the deed like real students of the art. I heard
audible smacking sounds. It was the kind of noise they edit from kissing scenes in movies because it actually sounds laughable. The lifeguard’s hands had worked fingers into the chest hair of his partner, threading them upward to the broad shoulders and neck. His passion was real and building. The macho half of the pair kept hands firmly placed on the younger man’s slightly smaller shoulders, unmoving. Tongues battled. The smaller of the two had a hand moving downward, seeking the hardness in the lap of the larger man. This brought a sudden parting of the two as Dick manhandled him abruptly backwards and away.

“
Okay whoa, Hoss. Slow down!” he said, bringing control back to his half of the dynamic. He peered down at the lifeguard’s red Speedo. The hard curl was pressing against the fabric, clearly displaying the young man’s reaction to him. Dick tried to resist, but the smile came anyway.

“
Well damn. You want it bad, don’t you?” he said, taking a thumb and trailing it down the red stretch of material. A quiver racked Mike from head to toe like a cold wind had come through the room and chilled him. Goosebumps covered all the visible tan skin. There was a nervous giggle of embarrassment.

“
You might be a little ahead of me in that department,” Dick remarked. “I might need a little more attention.”

That couldn
’t have been a clearer indication of consent. An invitation, even. The young face shone triumphant.

“
Give me a few minutes for a D and D,” Mike said as he rose and headed toward the bathroom. “Be back in a few.”

Dick looked confused.
It made him feel like he’d lost control, seeing the boy walk away. He looked at me for some kind of help. “D and D?” he asked once he heard the bathroom door close. He seemed offended Mike had left him with no explanation. At least none he understood.

“
Dump and douche,” I explained. “He didn’t leave you. He’s getting ready for you. He’ll be back. It only takes a few minutes.” I almost laughed. There was no pretense there. In this instance, he actually was entirely clueless.

His face relaxed.
“Learn something new every day,” he said, leaning back on the sofa to wait. “D and D,” he repeated.

“
Women do the same thing. They just don’t broadcast it. Guys will tell you so you know they’re fresh and you can...do what you want because they’re springtime clean,” I said with an unintentional tone of whimsy, letting him know it was truly a gay thing in which he was engaged.

Partial grin, half nod
, “Good to know.”

When Mike returned
, I could smell the toothpaste, deodorant, and douche trail that accompanied him.

There
’s nothing comparable to the knowledge that someone has prepared himself sexually for you completely. It’s an adrenalin surge all by itself. It saves time. No tentative, awkward questions to get in the way or impede the momentum of the heat of first encounter passion. In most male minds, foreplay is a test to see how far one can go in an initial encounter. Later it’s just a delaying technique to slow the way to what needs to get done. For a man, knowledge is as good as foreplay.

This time when they kissed, Dick
’s new knowledge set a fire ablaze. He was ready to take it all the way with no more pseudo-protestations.

My camera would be busy under a frantic finger for the next fifteen minutes.
A thousand shots. Almost a full card.

Mouths melded in a forceful plunge, noises like souls drowning,
then resuscitating as they returned to the surface for air. Gasps of oxygen. Fingers splayed in blurred fury undoing the drawstrings of the swimsuits. A loud smack of hard flesh hitting a belly. There was an exclamation at the size and girth and color of the object of worship. Its head was a royal purple. The sexual fever generated by the two bodies refreshed the chlorine from their pores. The smell filled the room

Mike
’s appetite for his ‘straigh
t
’ conquest was more than hunger. It was starvation. His mouth opened over the erection not to taste, but to consume. He took him in inch-by-inch, python-like, relaxing so his jaw could stretch to accommodate the width. When he made it to the base, lips grazing the light brown pubic curls, Dick lolled backward into the sofa, at a loss for words; the open O of his mouth exposing his tongue. Hapless fingers found the boy’s dark scalp and clutched the hair as he began to work the huge cock in with suction and warm, wet saliva.

My palms sweated on the camera. I wiped them on my shorts where my own zipper protruded. I had to keep moving and shooting. Climbing up on furniture for a better, more creative shot. Crawling beneath them for an inventive angle. I always hurt like I
’d run a marathon after a shoot. It was, in fact, an endurance test in many ways.

The facade of the immutable straight guy was quickly crumbling
at the hands of the youth eager to please him. They resembled two mangled bodies sprawled on the sofa. Tan lines demarcated target areas. Large, hair-covered thighs had been pushed upward and out so the boy could suck his sac unobstructed. He stroked him in unison with his sucking, his grip white-knuckled. The suckee was looking more helpless by the moment as the boy expertly coaxed his pleasure from him. His moans were half-formed exclamations and curses.

The lifeguard stood up,
and with a sudden determination, peeled himself from the red swimsuit. His dick sprung out from a cleanly shaven crotch as if startled. It jittered with anticipation against his soft, untanned lower belly. He wasn’t large, but long, boyish balls dangled beneath his erection.

The larger man looked up at the bare boy, appraising what was being offered. His cock jerked against him
, spreading a web-thin string of pre-cum from itself to his navel like colorless taffy. “You have a gorgeous ass,” Dick said, a telling smile accompanying the words.

It was the concession the younger man was waiting for. Some form of mutual, if limited, attraction.

Dick realized he’d given away some of his power and meant to correct it. “I mean you don’t have a set of tits or a wet hole I can stick my tongue in, but those sweet cheeks... ain’t gonna lie...” That’s as far as he would go with a compliment. There was obviously not going to be any act of oral reciprocation.

I heard my own sexually charged rasps as I moved around them to take
more photos. Being a photographer by trade necessitated being part voyeur. I was as aroused as they were.

“
You ever fuck a guy?” Mike’s gaze was as direct as the question he asked.

The larger man shook his head.
“Nope.”

The not-as-large hand reached into the drawer of one of the end tables and brought out the sealed, silver wrapper of a condom. He knew where I stored everything in the house. He opened it, deftly grabbed the hunk
’s hunk, stroked it to assure its firmness, and then attempted to roll it over him. The prophylactic was too small. It barely made it an inch before the lack of dimension stopped him.

“
Oops.” The remark came from the man below, rich with self-applause.