Part 126

"This is totally crazy," Jason said as he threw his shirt on the bed. "Kyle's gonna think I'm on some kinda ego trip or whatever."

"Hey, you don't know Kyle like I do. He loves to show off, and all his buds love to show off." I watched as Jason unbuttoned his baggies and stepped outa them. "Woohoo! You're gonna blow his mind, man."

"Has he seen Greg's pics?"

"No, I haven't taken any, but you've given me an idea," I laughed. "I wonder why I didn’t think of that before?"

"Probably 'cause Greg would go ballistic."

"You're not."

"I know, but I should be." He dropped his boxers to the floor, and studied his groin. "And look at this! How come I've got a fucking boner?"

"'Cause it's exciting, dude. You know that Kyle's gonna whack himself stupid when he sees your pics."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course, I'm serious. Hey…" I paused a moment to collect my thoughts. "Do you wanna see the pics I sent to Kyle of myself? I've gotta warn you, though, they're pretty hot, and there's a lotta gay stuff."

"Well, I guess I'm kinda curious. But hold the hard core stuff, OK? I'm not ready for that." I clicked on my file and scanned through the thumbnails to find the least 'offensive' shots. "Jeez!" he cried, "I can't believe you did that! What did Kyle say when he saw those pics?"

"I sent them before I met him in Cape Town at the swim meet. I guess you could say he was kinda looking forward to meeting me."

"You know something? They're not as bad as I thought they were gonna be. In a way, they're kinda artistic."

"You wanna see the really hot ones?"

"I'm gonna regret this."

When the pics of me shooting my load to camera, with boy juice flying in all directions, scrolled down the screen, I watched Jason's face. His eyes were on springs, and his chin was practically scraping the floor.

"I've never seen anything like this before!"

"And?"

"I dunno what to think. It's like… it's like it goes against everything I've been brought up to believe in."

"You mean like what's in the Bible?"

"Yeah."

"You really think God got out his quill and bottle of ink and wrote all that stuff? Then threw sheets of parchment off a cloud so they'd drift down to earth?"

"God works in mysterious ways."

"Very. Listen, dude, if all this stuff is giving you the guilts, then let's quit while you're ahead."

"OK, so you tell me why you don't have the guilts."

"Hey, open your eyes, man. Do you see peacocks hiding their tails? Yeah, I can see a hippo asking some chick hippo if she wants to be his date at the hippo prom. When was the last time a volcano or a hurricane apologized? Hey, I'm not here to stomp on your brain, man. Believe what you wanna."

"Are you saying that the Bible is crap?"

"I'm saying that there's a lotta people who write and talk crap."

"For instance?"

I clicked on a pic of me posing and showing off my muscles. OK, my boner as well. "What do you see?"

"You."

"Yeah, but like what do you see?"

Jason studied my pic for a moment. "Well, I guess I see a pretty hunky guy."

"You know what I figure you're looking at? Now, don't take this the wrong way, but I figure I'm like a painting or a sculpture or whatever created by an artist. So what's the artist gonna do? Store me in the basement or the attic to gather dust? Hey, I didn't create myself, man, but I can appreciate the work," I laughed. "So I figure it's my duty to exhibit the masterpiece."

"Sounds egotistical."

"Maybe it is, but I make a lotta dudes happy. And so can you."

"You don't understand. The body is the temple of the soul."

"OK, so show me a church that's not on a hill. Show me a temple that's ugly and hidden away."

"You're confusing the fuck outa me."

"Not me, dude. I don't confuse anybody. If you're confused, blame somebody else. Listen up, I don't know if it was God, Allah, Nature or whatever that created you, but whoever did, did a fucking cool job. So what are you gonna do about it?"

"What were you thinking when Paul took all those pics of you?"

"Kyle. I was thinking of Kyle, and how he'd spin out when he saw the pics."

"So it was kinda like a gift."

"Now that you mention it, yeah. I guess my bod is a gift to me, so why not share the buzz?"

"Well, I guess when you put it like that…" Jason trailed off while he contemplated his reflection in the mirror for a moment. "Do you really think Kyle will like me?"

"Is the Pope a Catholic? Jeez, what's the matter with you? Guys like you don't pour outa the door when the elevator stops."

"Are you sure he won't think I'm on some ego trip?"

"Sure he will. And he'll think you've got a big, inflated head, and that you're so full of your own bullshit that you float around like some helium balloon. But that won't stop him jacking himself crazy," I cracked.

"That's what worries me. Masturbation is a sin. I mean, like if he admired my… gift… that would be OK, I guess."

"How long is your arm?"

"What the fuck?"

"Does it reach to your dick?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Hey, if we weren't supposed to jack off, we'd have short arms, dude."

"This is all so sudden."

"Tell ya what. Let's take some pics. If you don't like what you see, we'll ditch 'em. Fair enough?"

"I guess so."

Jason had lost his boner during our deep convo, but soon got it back up again as he began to pose. After a minute or so, he was smiling and feeling good about himself -- probably thinking like those dudes from the posters on his bedroom wall. He kept saying that he wasn't up to their standard, and I kept telling him that I'd kill him if he ever was. To me, there was a stage where muscle definition had reached the point of perfection. Anything beyond that became gross -- far too much of a good thing. "It's like a twelve inch dick," I reasoned, "what the fuck are you gonna do with that?"

"Find a very tall girl?"

"This is gonna blow Kyle's mind," I said as I focused the camera on his awesome chest. "Make your lats stick out a bit more. And raise your arm a little. He likes armpits like yours."

"I don't have any hair there!"

"Exactly." So we went through all kinds of poses -- tight abs, stretched pecs, bulging biceps, wide muscular backs, defined thighs and calves, plus a few close-ups of his cute face and smile. "Hey, this is wicked! Just a couple more shots and we're done."

"Why are you laying on the floor?"

"'Cause churches are built on hills."

"I don't get it."

"Hey, dude, just take my word for it. OK? You're a boy god, and gods are always on pedestals."

"You're crazy."

"So don’t complain. I'm giving you free lessons."

When Jason saw his images on the comp, he just stared at the screen for the first four or five pics without saying a word.

"Are you disappointed?"

"Not really. I just can't believe that it's me."

"Why?"

"'Cause I look so… well, kinda different. Daring, sorta."

"Hey, don't forget the fucking photographer's expertise, dude. I made you look good. But, actually, you performed pretty well for some lamo, fucking novice."

"Don't gimme that shit, Daniel. I look…" There was yet another pause.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"I just don't wanna sound…"

"Egotistical? Hey, just let it out, man. Tell me what you think."

"Well, I look kinda hot, I guess."

"Kinda hot? Are you kidding? You look fucking awesome! Man, when you go home, I'm gonna jack myself stupid gawking at these pics. And Kyle's gonna be fisting his boner 'til it's red raw! And I wouldn't be surprised if Greg jacks off when he sees them."

"You're gonna show them to Greg?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

"Well, he might think I'm some kinda whacko." It was as though Jason was on time delay. "What did you say before?"

"When?"

"About jacking off?"

"I said I was gonna jack off looking at your pics when you go home. Why? Did I say something wrong?"

"No."

Jason was avoiding my eyes, but I sensed something going on in his brain. "You want me to jack off now? While you're here?"

"No. Well, I mean, not especially."

"Have you ever seen a guy jack off before?"

"No."

"Would you like to?"

"Well, I guess I'm kinda curious," he shrugged, still avoiding my eyes.

"Check this out, dude." I dropped my shorts and took my seven inches in my fist. "You work the mouse and click through your pics." I got the feeling that Jason figured there was an important difference between my jacking off while looking at his pics and jacking off looking at him in person. Gawking at his images wasn't a personal threat. They were images of him. Separate. Detached. Hey, it suited me. It meant that I could offload without offending his sensitivities, and, at the same time, give him a lesson in self-esteem or, what I called, being natural.

"Hold that one for a minute," I ordered. It was a pic of him with his clasped hands raised above his head. His pecs were drawn upwards, forming a fold of solid, tanned muscle that ran down from his shoulders, and stretched his meaty, brown nipples outa shape, but they looked fucking hot! Whoa! And his stomach was flat, causing a depression below his ribs that defined his abs to perfection. Below that was a small patch of brown pubes and his boner, standing proudly to attention.

From the corner of my eye, I could see his gaze alternating from the pic on the screen to me as I jerked my throbber. He was probably trying to figure out how his image could make me so damn horny. He didn't say anything, though.

"OK, click through a few more."

When he'd arrived at a pic which had been shot from the floor, showing his rock-hard boner stabbing the air and begging to be sucked, and his hairless hangers screaming to be licked, I asked him to hold the click-through. "That's the one!" I groaned. Then a truckload of boy juice splattered all over the screen as I emptied my balls of every sticky, precious drop.

"Well?" I asked as I grabbed a tissue and began to clean the screen. Jason just shook his head, and remained silent until I'd finished cleaning up. "What's the verdict, dude?"

"I'd better be going."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"Do you want me to trash the pics?"

"No."

"So what's the prob?"

"There isn't one."

After he'd dressed and was about to leave, I grabbed his shoulders and searched his brown eyes. "I gotta know. Tell me." You could've knocked me over with a fucking feather when his eyes misted over and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"I never thought I could mean that much to anybody."

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