Straight lad caught on camera

He put his face under the shower, water jetted out all around him, bouncing off his face and wetting his shirt. It started to stick to his chest again and, with him leaning back, his chest showed through hard and defined.
‘Now shake your head, wash that football match out of your hair. Open your mouth, let the water trickle into your throat, let it bubble out over your chin and run down your body. Feel good? O.k. step forward and slowly, very slowly remove your shirt. Pull it up from the bottom and over your head.’

Slowly his naked chest came into view. Between his pecs a line of black hair formed a wet covering, around his nipples more dark hair hung matted and soaked. His dark, pink nipples stood out against the water that rained on them from above. 

‘That’s it, Mark, nice and slow. Hold it there.’ 
His shirt was covering his head. All there was in the viewfinder was a naked torso and the outline of his face pressing against the sodden material. 
‘And now all the way off, chuck it away. Good lad.’ I kept talking to him now that he was getting into the shoot, I didn’t want him to lose the impetus or change his mind. ‘Now turn away from me, get under again. That’s it. Take some of that shower wash there and cover yourself. Go on, get the mud and sweat from the football field out of your skin. Massage it in, all over your chest, under your arms, around your neck.’

I photographed each change in his muscles as he lathered his upper body. I focused in on his hands as they smeared froth around the back of his neck and shot the glistening, short hair on the back of his head. I followed the rivulets of soap as they meandered down his spine and slid across the rounds of his backside. Jealous of their ability to caress the full, smooth shorts I moved the viewfinder to his legs, shot the backs of his knees, then travelled up again, framed the sodden football shorts that clung to his lad’s arse and defined its dark crack. And then further up again to the strong shoulders, all the time encouraging him.

‘Rub it in Mark. Imagine that there’s a girl in there with you and she’s doing it.’ I had a plan here. I wanted him turned on when he turned around. ‘Can you feel those soft, delicate fingers massaging your skin? Can you feel her hands playing over your chest? She’s taking your nipples between her fingers now. Her nails are pinching into them, gently, sensuously. She wants you Mark, she wants to go down and take your hard cock in her hands, guide it to her soft lips and lick her tongue gently along your length. You’re the star; she’s yours to do what you want with. And she’s going to make you come as you pump your straight man cock into her young mouth.’

His hands had slipped down his chest, played with his nipples and were now pushing into the tops of his shorts.

‘Turn to me now Mark, turn slowly and play your hands over your stomach.’ 
He did. His shorts were almost transparent now, a thick, stocky and dark cock was pressing against them. The pinkness of his cock head showed through the white material as he turned to face me. Above this a black shadow showed where his bushy pubes were and below his cock I could see his balls hanging free and warm. 

‘Put your hands over your shaft, hold it through the shorts. Let it show. Let her see what a huge pole you have. Can you feel her breathing on it? Can you feel the water running into your shorts and trickling past your arse? Can you feel her fingers as she takes your cock and slowly wanks it, bringing it all the time closer to her mouth? That’s good Mark, that’s really hot. You’re turning her on. She’s begging you for it. Now, hands inside your shorts. Push them down, slowly mate, slowly let her see what you’ve got.’

His eyes were closed, his smile broad. It was as if he was in a trance now, feeling this unseen girl as she undressed him when all the time he was undressing for me. His shorts were lowered. His pubes came into view, thick and black and then the wide base of his solid cock. Slowly the shorts were pushed lower and his shaft was revealed, stocky and fat with a network of veins full and pumping. And then his head broke free, his cock snapped up, slapped against his bush and pointed straight at me. Still the shorts came lower. His balls swung free, hanging heavy in their stretched sack. 

‘Turn around again,’ I ordered. He did as he was told. ‘Now bend down to take your shorts right off, push them all the way down to your ankles, and bend. That’s a good lad.’ 
In this position his arse was forced open and I zoomed in on the wrinkled, dark hole hiding in amid the forest of hair. 
‘That’s good. Now step out of them, stand up, turn to face me, good lad. Rub the soap over your chest. That’s it, massage it in, squeeze your nipples. Nice. Hey, I like the smile, that’s a wicked smile you have Mark. You’re a good looking lad. No wonder the girls want you to fuck them. Now move your hands lower, rub your palms over your stomach, lower Mark, feel your pubes. Get your fingers in there, twist them, scratch your skin in there with your nails. That’s it, you can be rough. You’re a tough lad. Now run your hands under your balls, take them in your fist, lock them in there, pull them up, show her, show her your balls, that’s it. Feels good doesn’t it?’
‘Feels great,’ he murmured.

‘Now imagine she’s at your cock again. You’re the star, you’re the hero, the player with the biggest cock. She’s on her knees. Take your cock in one hand, grip it at the base, grasp it, feel your power as you shove it in her mouth. That’s it, it’s into her throat, feel her warmth around it.’

The water was still running down his body, running streams around his hands, hot water splashing over his inflamed cock head, his slit opening to let his pre cum ooze out.

‘Take your other hand, feel you arse. Run your palm around it. Feel into your crack, feels good doesn’t it? Let a finger play on your hole.’

He gasped and stretched his body up rigid when he found his hole. ‘Feels so good,’ he whispered to himself. I shot him as he opened his mouth, speaking through his smile.

‘Let it slide in further Mark, try it, see how it feels.’
‘Yeah, that’s great,’ he said. 
I had trouble hearing over the sound of the running water but I could read his expression. He was talking to himself through his trance. ‘That feels real good.’ He was well into this now.

‘And think Mark. Think what you want to happen next. What does she do to you? What do you want to happen now?’

All the time my camera was clicking away, I had over one hundred shots now, there was nothing left to photograph apart from his cum, and I knew that was not far away. I put the camera to one side and stepped forward.

‘Tell me Mark, tell me what happens next.’

I could see that he was fucking is tight arse with a finger behind him, his hips were thrust forward and he was slowly wanking his foreskin back and forth over his fat, purple head. His mouth was open slightly, water running in and trickling out. His eyes still shut.
‘Suck me,’ he whispered.
‘I didn’t hear you,’ I lied.
‘Suck me,’ he said it louder.
‘I can’t hear you.’
‘Please, suck me! Someone suck my cock.’

I stepped into the bath. The warm water immediately soaked my clothes. I put one arm around him, and turned off the shower.

His eyes snapped open. They were inches away from mine, our bodies touching. I could feel his fist as it pumped on his shaft and banged against my belly, his cock head pressed against my shorts.

Without saying a word I put both hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently to his knees.
‘You first,’ I said.

I expected him to resist but he didn’t. Before I knew it he had pulled my shorts down and his mouth was around my swollen cock. I held his head and pushed it into my groin, gyrated my hips so that I could feel his straight face buried in my pubes. I used his head to wank myself, grasping him firmly and thumping my hips against him like I was giving him some sort of punishment. His hands gripped my legs to steady himself and I could hear him grunt with surprise at what he was doing, what he was tasting. What he was enjoying.

I looked up at the shower hanging overhead, to the fitting that held it to the wall, and winked.

And then I felt myself about to unload.
‘I’m coming Mark,’ I said and held my cock in his throat. ‘I’m going to fill your mouth with cum.’ I pulled back out. ‘You want to find out what a man’s cum tastes like?’ I thrust back in again, my legs were shaking. ‘You want to feel the hot splash of juice on the back of your throat?’ I drew right out, tilted his head so that he looked up at me. His eyes were wide, begging. ‘Do you?’

He didn’t answer, just dived onto my cock again and pulled me into his face. He feasted greedily, grunting, panting; desperate to find out what another man tasted like. I showed him. I heard him gag, felt my own hot cum fill his mouth around my cock, felt myself jerk against him, heard him whimper, give in, accept it. And I pumped him until I could stand it no longer. My cock slipped from his mouth and I drew him up to me so that we were staring into each other’s eyes. He opened his mouth and I could see it was still full with my juice. And, with it still open, he swallowed it all.

His cock was pressing against my wet thigh, his chest against my shirt. I turned him to the side and put one arm around him, stroked the fur on his arse cheeks and then let two fingers slip into his tight, hot hole. His eyes widened in surprise. With my other hand I tickled and stroked his balls. I didn’t touch his cock.

‘Feel that inside you,’ I whispered into his ear. ‘Feel how good it is to let someone give you so much pleasure.’
‘Wank me please,’ he said desperately.
‘I am,’ I replied and started sliding my fingers in and out of his arse, all the time teasing his balls.

He jolted and squirmed, tried to grasp his cock, I pushed his hands away. Instead he grabbed mine, it stiffened again, painful but willing. I could feel his body twist and slide against mine as I massaged him inside. I heard him swear, pant, whimper in disbelief. I could smell his sweat, his breath and could feel his heart racing in his chest.

‘Just imagine that’s my cock in there, fucking you.’ 
My words whispered into his ear and were followed by my tongue as I licked him, tasted him. I felt his hair against my forehead.
‘Jesus,’ he said, ‘I’m gunna….’
‘I know, just let it happen.’
‘Wank my cock… oh fuck.’ 

I had three fingers in him now, each thrust of my hand lifting him to his toes. I twisted his balls into my hand and pulled them down. I turned him so that his cock was pressed against me, sliding up under my shirt and rubbing against my stomach. He grappled for my cock. His pulling on my tool got stronger, more desperate. 

‘Oh no,’ he started to grunt short gasps of abandon. ‘I’m coming, fuck, fuck, fuck me. Harder.’

As I slid my fingers into him I drew him towards me, his cock rubbed against me and I jerked down on his balls. And then I felt it. A long, scorching stream of straight lad’s cum shot up my stomach and warmed my flesh.

I looked into his eyes, wide, blue, his dark brows raised in confusion. And I wrapped my lips around his. Our tongues fought. Another stream of hot juice splattered under my wet shirt and I could feel his cock slide around in his own cum as he fucked it against me. My fingers reached into him deeper and I pulled him to me tighter.

My cock spat for a second time, covering his hand with my own spunk as he pulled in un-rhythmic jerking movements. I kept my fingers inside him, played my thumb around the top of his arse, removed my other hand from his balls and held the back of his head, pushed him closer to me, held us together as he subsided. All there was left to do then was kiss and he explored my mouth with his like he knew this was the only chance he would get to kiss another man. 

Slowly, I let my fingers leave him, but I kept my palm against his arse, enjoying the feeling of his skin, knowing that I held a straight guy in my arms and that he was kissing me, holding my cock. Knowing that he had asked me to fuck him, asked me to suck him. And knowing that those pleasures were yet to come.

I looked over his shoulder and back up to the shower fitting. The small, black-glass plate reflected the lights from the ceiling. Behind the glass the tiny red light was still showing. And I knew that I had it all on tape.