The Shoot


It’s a sin to look that good.

Fuck, who ever convinced him to do this damn photo shoot anyway?  Whoever it was, I’m going to wring their neck.

He’s just standing there…how can someone just standing there manage to look that damn good?

What’s he doing with his hand?  Oh, mother of god…look away…just look away…

I can’t look away.  My eyes are glued to his hand, his crotch…jesus,  just STOP!  

As ugly as those shorts are…who the hell picked those out?  He looks so…edible.  God, I just want to eat the boy up…

He’s looking at me…fuck, probably caught me staring at his crotch, that’s just great.  Playful grin…coy glance in my direction…

Gotta shift. Can’t let him see how hard I am for him right now.

Jesus, even his feet look good.  I gotta go somewhere…gotta get away from this.

“Hey man, where you goin’?”

“Uh…gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

I lock the bathroom door, lean up against it, quickly unzipping my pants to free the tightness in my groin.

I wrap my hand around my cock and pump…thoughts of that damn boy running through my head…picturing that hand…that hand massaging that crotch…

And I come. Hard. Fuck it felt good.  

When I get back to the set, he’s wearing different shorts…and they’ve got a dog out here now…what they need a dog for I don’t know…but he still looks amazing, and I fight my eyes not to stare at him.

“Hey man, what took ya?”

“I stopped and got something to drink.”

He grins, probably knowing full well that that’s not what I was doing.  

I don’t know how much more I can handle…he keeps grabbing his crotch…the ache in my own is back…

“Get away from me, you damn dog!”

He laughs, patting his knee to get the dog’s attention.

Stupid thing.  Just what I need is the dog sniffing at my erection.

The photographer tells him he’s had enough of this scene.  Time for a switch.  

He leads us to a darker room. I sit in the corner. He sits in a chair the photographer has set up, water gun in hand.  He spreads his legs slowly, grins, slinks down lower in the chair.

Fucking tease.

Again with the hand on the crotch. God, what I wouldn’t give to lick him all over…

He raises an arm above his head, sneer on his lips.

Can’t take it.

“Be right back.”

“Where this time?”

“Gotta make a call.”

Yeah right. I lock the door behind me, exploding in record time.  Zip up, and back to the shoot.

Why did I come here anyway?

Oh yeah. He begged me.

“Come on, this is the first shoot like this I’ve ever done. I need you there for support. I’d do it for you. Come on.”

I couldn’t say no.  Pass up the chance to see him half naked?  Never.

So here I am, jacking off every ten minutes because the boy is so god damn hot.

And now he’s wearing nothing but a towel.

A towel that rides very low on his hips, I might add. I can see the outline of his cock through the towel…please, please let this be over soon.


I lean my forehead against my hand, trying to cover my eyes and prevent my already growing erection from growing any more.

The photographer thanks him.  He was great, he tells him.  Absolutely fantastic.

“Thanks,” he says. “Can you leave us alone for a minute?”

I thought he was talking to me. So I stood up.

“Not you.”  What?  Ok…so he’s talking to the photographer.  Why does he want the photographer to leave?

The photographer complies with his request, and suddenly it’s just him and me…alone…and he’s only wearing a towel.

Fuck.

Scratch that. He’s not wearing anything. And he’s walking towards me.  Stalking towards me. Sexy grin on his lips. What’s going---JESES.

Hand…on my…oh god…

“How many times you jack off today, man?”  He grins, squeezing the bulge in my pants.
“What was it, three, four times?  And you’re still hard? Man, I must really do it for you!”

He takes my hand and puts it on his cock, guides it down the length and back up again, closing his eyes and moaning.

He’s unzipping my pants. I can’t even see straight.  He slips his hand in my boxers and…uhhhh….closing my eyes…

He’s on his knees in front of me, tugging at my pants.  Since when does he like guys?  Right now, I don’t even care…

Can’t make a coherent thought….hot mouth…my cock…coming…fuck…coming…
JESUS!

He swallows every last drop.  Licks his lips, looks up at me.  

“Wanna return the favor?”

I nod, suddenly unable to form words, and he sprawls out on the ground, hands behind his head. Waiting.

My mouth finds his arousal…licking…sucking…tasting the salty-sour liquid dripping from his cock…he bucks his hips forward, explodes…

I swallow, wipe my mouth…almost afraid to look at him.

He kisses me hard on the mouth, then stands up and walks away.

Weeks later, I’m still remembering it.  I jack of to the memory nearly every night.  

“Hey, Jace, Justin said to give this to you.”  Joey throws a magazine on my lap. Justin’s face on the cover. Bloodied…broken…but strangely beautiful.

I open it up, see the pictures…the hand grabbing the crotch, the water gun above the head, that damn dog…the towel…

“Oh, and he said to meet him at the pool…and bring a towel?”   He looks at me, confused.  

I just smile, because getting your dick sucked by Justin Timberlake is better than jacking off to pictures of him any day.



Amanda Stories
Back Home

Email: whatweallwishfor@yahoo.com