Working as a Male Model

This is a work of fiction. Many of the aspects of the story are drawn from real life, but the events are fictional.

*****

I've been modeling non-professional for some years now. It started when a friend was participating in a fashion show at a cosplay event and needed someone to wear her male attire. Most of her line is Victorian dresses and assorted undergarments, but she does have a few period waistcoats and jackets for men. That's where I came in, and happy to oblige. The following year, a couple of the other designers asked if I'd model their outfits. Of course, I said yes. The next four years I was getting the chance to wear dozens of different sumptuous outfits from the Victorian era.

Wearing several different outfits in each show meant I was changing backstage. The designers and their assistants would help me in and out of the outfits. Since most of the clothing was for females, most of the designers were female, there was always a bevy of female models, designers and assistance around as I stripped off from one outfit to the next. It was a job, and everyone was professional. So, while I was often down to just my briefs, it wasn't an erotic experience. Even the few times I was nearly naked standing next to a female model in the same state of undress, we were both focused on what we were putting on and how to best present it to the audience.

Every one of these fashion shows came with photographers. Without even realizing it I was building up quite a portfolio of images. Eventually, someone mentioned they'd seen one of these photos on a site for professional photographers and models. When I went to check it out, I was surprised to see so many of my photos online. Encouraged by the response these photos were getting, I decided to create my own model profile. I asked the photographers if I could share their images on my profile, and poof, I was a model.

Requests didn't start flooding in, but occasionally I would get a call by a photographer wanted to capture something interesting. These were not paid gigs, but a chance for them to play with taking photos in exchange I'd get some interesting photos of myself to put into my portfolio. They liked my face, as I have a long mustache and neatly trimmed beard, which adds to the 'from a different era' look. Most of these shoots were pretty straightforward, wanting to pose me in various outfits to show off the clothing. It was during one of these shoots that the photographer asked if she could take some shots of me dressing and undressing. "You have a nice body, and I think these would be some interesting photos." I agreed. The camera started clicking away.

A week later I was asked to proof the photos for approval. Normally, at the fashion show, I sign a waiver form, allowing the photographers (and designers) to use any photos they feel appropriate. I seldom get to see any of the images, unless I stumble across them online. However, since this shoot was less about the clothing and more to capture me, I was getting a chance to see all the images.

The photographer and I met at her studio to go over the images. It's a loft in Los Angeles, with a large open room with lots of natural light for the studio. Her desk sits in a corner with a large monitor where she can show off her photos. They are incredible. I am really surprised at how well the photographer used lighting to create moods for each shot. Even with the large windows, she adds lighting to get the right effect.

During the shoot, I was thinking about my poses and not about how much flesh I was shoot. There were several photos where it was obvious I was enjoying the shoot. My bulge was more than a bit prominent. One in particular had me holding a pair of trousers—I can't remember if I was about to put them on or if I'd just taken them off. Regardless, I was holding the trousers in one hand and adjusting the elastic waistband of my briefs with the other. The fingers of my right hand were dragging along the line of my cock sliding it to the right, probably repositioning it so it wouldn't be apparent in the photos when I was dressed. I blushed and apologized. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was, well..."

"No need to apologize. I think it adds to the allure of the photo." She opened another folder—one that wasn't part of this shoot—revealing dozens more images of me undressed. "I took these at the fashion show last year. I hadn't asked for your permission, so I've never done anything with them. But that is when I realized I wanted to get you into the studio." The new photos were not as good as the ones she took in the studio where she could adjust the lighting. Still, there was a raw, voyeuristic nature to the images.

"This one is my favorites." The photographer opens up an image to full screen. I am standing with one leg lifted, hold my foot out for an assistant to slip on a pair of trousers. I'm looking down at my foot, guiding it into place. The assistant is looking up, but not at my face. Even though the back of her head is towards us, it is obviously she is looking at my crotch, and my crotch was responding. The outline of the head of my cock was visible behind the thin cotton briefs. There is another female model standing off to the side, facing into the camera, but, like the assistant, staring at my briefs. "You see," the photographer says pointing at the eye line of both of the females, their attention draws our eyes to the subject of the photo. You aren't naked, but this is a very erotic pose."

"I wasn't intending that."

"No and that adds to the beauty. You are oblivious to the effects you're having on the women in this photo."

Wow, was I blushing. But, I must admit, very aroused by the image.

The photographer switched back to the photo of me holding the trousers. "See, the innocent way you reposition yourself, and yet, clearly excited. Maybe not fully erect, but certainly showing promise."

"No, I was," I gulped trying to think of something casual to say. "I was not full on. I think I would have remembered it if I was more..."

She tilted her head at me. "You weren't aware you were excited?"

"I was aware. I enjoy having my photo taken. I guess part of me is an exhibitionist."

"All models are exhibitionists by nature."

"I'm just glad I wasn't all the way. It's embarrassing enough as it is."

"Don't be embarrassed. It's beautiful. If you're ever interested in having your photo taken in a more 'engorged' state, let me know."

We continued to look through the photos and my arousal continue to grow. I tried to not squirm, but my cock was not cooperating. Eventually, I had to reach down and readjust. I grabbed by crotch and tried to reposition myself to the right.

Even though I was standing behind her left shoulder, the photographer noticed "Are these images arousing you? Should we do another shoot?"

"Yes." I couldn't deny my arousal.

"Which, are you aroused or do you want another shoot?"

"Uh, the first. Yes, they are definitely getting me going."

"What about them do you like?"

"Well, I don't know about the photos so much. I'm not sure I have an eye for that. But certainly the idea that you captured me so often semi-erect is erotic."

"Good. That is their intent. For me too. Here, let me show you my favorite." She clicks on another folder and opens up an image of me. This was is a close up of my briefs, with my cock stretching out to the right. The outline of the entire shaft is visible, with red hair peeking out along the top and legs from the briefs.

"When did you get that close?" I said feeling the proximity of the camera staring at my crotch.

"I have a zoom lens. I can stand ten feet away and still get up close and personal."

"Yeah, that's pretty personal."

"It's a lovely shot, but again, you're not fully engorged, so it only hints at possibilities."

I look at the photo and it looks like I'm leaking precum. There is just a hint of a wet spot right at the tip. I gulp.

"If you're looking at the wet spot, don't worry. You weren't being that bad. I photoshopped that in." The photographer reaches up with her finger to point out the edits on the screen. Running her finger along the tip of my cock in the photo, I could swear she was doing it in real life. I don't remember how she said she did the technique; I was too engrossed in the moving of her hand.

"Wow, I'm, uh, these are going to be posted anywhere, are they?"

"No, they are just for my personal collection. Besides, you have approval to deny publication of any of the photos we took the other day."

We finished looking through the photos and I gave my approval for a couple dozen less embarrassing photos for her to use. As we walked out of the studio, I noticed she had a number of boudoir photos of women hanging on the wall. "You are good at capturing the same sort of intimacy with your female models."

"Sometimes. It really depends on the model. Some, like you, get into the modeling and their passion comes across on film. Others may be incredibly aroused, but you'd never know it from the photos. Women feel more comfortable with a female photographer, so they are more willing to let go of their inhibitions."

One of the photos was a woman laying on a bed, one leg slid under the satin sheets, with the other knee cocked up to the side. One hand was behind her head grabbing a fist full of hair, while the other was slide down to her crotch, a finger buried in the folds of her vagina. Her nipples were incredibly erect. "I image she was definitely feeling it."

The photographer chuckled. "Oddly enough, she wasn't. She's just good at presenting the pose." She steps closer to the three foot wide image. "Her nipple are erect, but we opened the windows in the studio that day, so it was pretty cold. See, there are little goose pimples along her side. Plus," she says pointing at her hand between her legs, "if she were really masturbating, the fingers would be blurry. She would be moving and yet, the detail on the fingers, the pubic hair, everything is in crystal clear focus. It isn't until we move up her body that the depth of field causes the image to soften."

"I don't think I could do that pose. Too much temptation to finish."

"I think you'd be surprised. You're pretty professional, focused on the task at hand. It's why I enjoy working with you."

"That's just it. I'd be focused on the hand."

Again, the photographer laughed. "If you ever want to test your theory, I'm happy to be the photographer."

I grab at my crotch again, needing further adjustment. "I'm not sure today would be the right day to test that."

"On the contrary, what better way to test it than when you're already feeling aroused. It would really prove whether or not you can control it."

There was nothing on my schedule for the day, and it was obvious the photographer was willing to do the shoot right now. She stood facing me, not angled toward the door as if escorting me out, or angled toward the studio, urging me to do another shoot. This was clearly my choice.

I bit my upper lips and resisted the urge to grab my crotch again. "What would I wear? I'm not really dressed for a shoot today."

"I was hoping you'd be willing to go without."

Yeah, there was no avoiding another crotch squeeze. My cock was pulsing with the idea of being photographed nude. As I grabbed and squeezed, the photograph softly smiled. I accepted her offer.

We headed back into the studio, but instead of staying in the main room, she turned left into the back area. "This is the 'apartment' setting for my boudoir shots. I have a bed and a bathroom with the lights all setup."

The room was an open space. One corner had the back wall of a bathroom, with tile behind the shower and a large mirror over a sink and a toilet. The other corner of the room had a large bed, with a window off to the side. "The window isn't real. I have lights behind it to give any effect we want, but people like to have boudoir shots of them standing at a window. It has that exhibitionist feel."

"And the bathroom, does the plumbing work?"

"Yes, it doesn't do any good to take a photo of someone in the shower if they can't get wet. Besides, this is my flat as well as my studio. This is my bathroom."

"Right there, in the open?"

"Well, I don't use it when I have models over, but yes. I need the space for lights and to get the right angle."

She points to a back corner, one without lights. "You can undress over there while I get the lights ready."

I start taking off my clothes while I watch the photographer go about turning on the power to each of the light trees. She makes a few adjustments to the lights over the bed and then heads over to a table to pick up a camera. My cock grows with anticipation. As I get to the point my briefs are the last thing to take off, I am tempted to masturbate right there. It wouldn't take long. But, if I did my cock would shrink back to normal, and I'm a grower not a shower. I decided to let passion add to the experience. Off came the briefs.

As I walked over to the bed area, the photographer watched me, my semi-erect cock swaying back and forth.

"Very nice. Not fully erect, but definitely putting on show. See, you're going to be great at this."

"Just wait. I haven't started touching myself yet."

She just hummed with anticipation.

"Where do you want me?"

The photographer pointed over to the bed. "Let's have you start by laying down. It will help you relax and not get too excited."

I sat down on the bed then rolled over onto my back, one leg slid under the sheets just the model in the photographer. "Cock out or under the sheets?"

"Start with the cock out, but not touching it."

One hand slide behind my head, the other rested on my stomach. My cock lay to the right riding up the groove between my hip and thigh. I could feel the warmth of the lights against my skin.

The camera started clicking away, but I focused on relaxing. I felt my cock twitch and the photographer whisper an exclamation.

I looked over at her. "Is there a problem?"

"No, not really. You cock twitched just as I took the shot. But I took another one. It's fine."

"Sorry, can't really control that."

"No, it's ok. You're actually pre-cumming a bit, which is lovely. So, twitch away."

As if on command, my cock jumped again. Her mention of my pre-cum made me aware of the feeling of a small puddle forming at my hip. I twitched again and groaned. The urge to cum was really strong.

"Are you ok?" The clicking of the camera stopped.

"The need to cum is really strong, but I'm ok."

"We can do a cum shot if you want. I just need to have some warning and the camera set for burst."

"Not yet, maybe later." I looked down at the photographer. Even behind the camera it was obvious she was grinning ear to ear.

After a few dozen more shots she said, "Could you take some of the pre-cum and spread it on your cock?"

Following her command I did just that. My index finger slide through the puddle on my hip and then slid it down the seam of my cock. Oh my god, I was so close to cumming it wasn't funny. The pre-cum acted as a lubricant, allowing my fingers to slide along my cock. As I finished one stroke with my fingers wrapped around the mid portion of my cock, the photographer whispered, "Hold it." click! "Now squeeze." click, click! I could feel my cock throbbing in my grasp. I didn't dare slide my hand up or I would start cumming right there. "Perfect." Click, click, click.

She walked up to the bed and stared down at me. "I can tell this is really pushing the limits for you. Why don't we do a cum shot and let you finish off?"

I took a deep breath. That is what I wanted. I also wanted to take some photos in the bathroom, but maybe that wasn't in the cards today. "Ok," I warbled out.

"Good, give a moment to get things setup. Don't touch anything," she said with a smirk. I removed my hand from my cock and slid it up behind my head.

The photographer walked around the bedroom scene turning the lights up to their full intensity. "We can't time the flash, so I need to have as much light on the subject as possible for when the moment...happens."

When she returned to the bed she had a small vial of oil. "Here, in case you want some lubricant."

I reached out my right hand to grab the vial.

Then she asked, "Are you right or left handed?"

"I'm either, why?"

"It depends on where I stand and how you pull as to where I take the shot."

"Of course. So, which works better for you?"

"If you're ok using your left hand, I can stay on this side of the bed. Can you give me a slow sample of the kind of motion you'll use?"

I put the vial of oil on the bed, slid my right hand between my legs and pushed up on my scrotum with my fingers. My left hand wrapped back around my cock and slowly slid up to where my index finger was just sliding pasted the tip of my cock.

"Great, except can you not move your left hand up so far? If we want to get a good cum shot, I will need to be able to see the full head of your cock."

"Ok. You're the photographer." I poured some of the oil into my left hand, closed the lid on the vial. "What do I do with this?"

"As long as the lid is closed, toss it on the floor. We don't want it in the shot."

Once done, my right hand slid back between my legs and my left hand started sliding up and down on my cock.

"If you can, tell me just before you cum, and I'll start taking burst photos. This way we'll be sure to get the right moment."

Her words put me over the edge. I hadn't stroked myself more than a half dozen times when I felt the muscle clinch and contract. "I'm cumming!" The camera started clicking away. My left hand slid to the base of my cock as the rest of my consciousness flew the other direction. I came, hard; a stream of cum spraying across my chest. My hips rock forward and my abdomen contracts. Another stream flies up across my abdomen. Another grunt and more cum oozes pours out the tip of my cock. I slide my left hand up my cock squeezing out more cum as it dribbles over my thumb. The camera still clicking away.

As I take a deep breath, the photographer stops taking photos and sighs. "That was incredible."

I am speechless. I open my eyes and look over at her as she stares at my cock and the cum across my torso.

Eventually, she looks up to my face and smiles. "I enjoyed that."

Rolling my eyes, "So did I, obviously."

The photographer turns back to her camera looking over the images on the view screen at the back of the camera. "I got some really good shots."

She steps forward and sits down on the bed next to me. I shift over slightly as her backside presses against my hips, my right arm to behind my head to be up and out of the way. The photographer turns the camera screen toward me. "Here, look at this." The screen shows me laying on the bed, but hips rocked forward. She then starts clicking through the pictures as I watch myself cum again in slow motion. The field of focus was set really narrow, so while my cock was in perfect focus, my face was almost unrecognizable. In the image with the stream of cum flying through the air, it goes from sharp focus to blurry giving it a sense of motion. As she clicks through the images, she leans in further toward me trying to see the screen while still letting me view the photos. I can feel the heat from her glowing against my skin, and the vision of my orgasm stirs my cock again. I begin to slowly stroke my very happy cock.

Eventually, she ends up leaning her elbow on my chest as she plays the orgasm over again. "I am really happy with this—a lot to work with."

"I'm glad." My hips begin to involuntarily rock back and forth as my hand brings my cock back to full.

The photographer sits up, still focus on the images on her screen, subtly shifting her hips against mine. She takes a hand and wipes it along her left elbow, the one she had laying on my chest. "Oh," she exclaims as she realizes she has my cum all over her elbow and now her hand. "I should get you something to clean up."