Fully Exposed A Huge Inspiration

Outside was freezing, but inside was warm and wonderful. I stood shivering, waiting for Eva to finally open the door and let me in. The New Jersey winter had been snowless but very cold, and I was still shaking for a few moments after I got in the house.

It was your typical suburban home outside, but inside was tastefully decorated in a sort of minimalist, modern style, in keeping with what I had been told about Eva's tastes. She was originally from Sweden, but had lived here for some time now. I'd heard about her from a friend of mine at the club I belonged to. Tall prints of Eva's stark, black-and-white photos were illuminated by track lighting that lined the walls.

I stopped to admire one of an elephant bathing in the mud. "Like that one?" she asked, stepping back and looking at it. "Took it while on a safari I went on in Kenya several years ago. I toured a number of African countries...saw numerous animals, indigenous tribes...some things you wouldn just not believe."

I rubbed my hands together and blew into them. This weather wasn't for me. I longed for summer. "Such as?"

She cupped her chin, thinking. "Well, this one tribe I remember...the men used sticks to stretch out their penises to incredible lengths. The things would be dangling down, but in many cases they were so distorted that they were barely functional. Impressive, but useless."

I grinned, and she gave me a quizzical look. She was a striking, raven-haired woman, well over six feet tall, with a large, athletic build, sharp features, light skin and pale eyes like ice. She wore a plain white T-shirt that was too small for her buxom chest, and tight blue jeans. She padded barefoot away from me, into the living room.

"Sharon told me you need some photos taken," Eva said, pulling up a stool at the bar that led into the kitchen. She gestured to me to put my coat down anywhere.

I nodded, and sat down on a stool next to her.

"Well," she went on, "I hope she also told you these photos won't be cheap. I'm not your regular wedding photographer for hire. My work has been published in a lot of high-profile magazines around the world. I've been out of the game for about a year now, but I don't intend to just sink into oblivion. Still, everybody has to pay the bills..."

"Sure," I said. The cold was still lingering in here, despite everything. Eva must've noticed my discomfort. She went over and turned the heat up.

"Sorry," she said, "I usually keep it a little colder in here. Not everybody likes that."

I grinned and rubbed my hands on my legs.

"So what are we shooting?" She asked.

"Me," I said, pushing the rim of my sunglasses up. "A few portrait shots. In the nude."

Her face darkened like a sudden storm. "Is this a joke?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Well--"

"I get it," she said, her eyes flashing angrily. She shook a cigarette out of a pack on the counter and lit it, blowing smoke. "It was that crack I made about the tribe before. What do you think this is?"

I didn't know what to say. This was unexpected. "A friend of mine...asked me to take some pictures of myself. For her."

Eva shook her head. "Sure, I see now. This is your typical line, your kink. You schedule a session with some random woman photographer you find in the phonebook, and then you tell her at the last minute you're going to be in your birthday suit. Right? Has the tactic worked out well for you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, "I just want some photos taken..."

"So Sharon said," Eva fumed. "But she didn't mention any of this nonsense. I'm not sure what she told you about me and my work, but I'm not some kind of...flesh-peddler or something."

"I know that," I told her. "I doesn't have to be anything...lascivious, necessarily. I'm willing to pay."

She sat there, smoking and considering it. She paused a few moments, then said, "Fine. But one thing: I'm calling my neighbor to come over here and sit in on the session. I'm not being alone with some pervert."

I nodded okay. She went into the kitchen and picked up the phone.

"Hello, Enrico?" She said. "Yeah, it's me. You're never going to believe this..." She explained the situation, then hung up.

In a few short minutes I saw a chubby man's face peering in the back door. Enrico was a roly-poly, rather effeminate guy with thick-rimmed glasses. He reminded me of a college professor friend of mine, except much fruitier. He smiled wide at me as Eva showed him in. "I thought about bringing my taser over, just in case," he quipped.

"Are you kidding?" Eva snorted. "I don't think this one's much of a match for the two of us." They both laughed and looked at me.

"Well, where are we doing this?" Eva snapped. "The studio? In here? What?"

I shrugged.

"I think you ought to see what you're dealing with first before you let it use the furniture," Enrico quacked, sitting down in a leather sofa in the living room.

Eva considered it. "All right," she said to me. "Take them off."

I looked around. The house was far back from the street, but it had huge windows looking into the living room. Plus the side windows in the kitchen opened onto the neighbor's house. A clear view.

"Don't get bashful now," Eva said.

I strode into the living room and removed my shirt. Then I tugged down my pants and showed it to her.

Enrico gasped.

"It's...it's huge," Eva said, her arms hanging lifeless at her sides.

"Now that," Enrico said, "is a horse dick."

They weren't wrong. I'd often heard it compared to animals' members, among other things. The usual reaction at first seeing it was shock, then amazement. Both of the spectators were floored. Flaccid it dangled down almost to my knee. I put my hands on my hips and turned from one to the other. It draped down onto her all-glass coffee table, which sent a chill through my cock.

"How...how big?"

I shrugged again. I have had many people measure it over the years, including myself. At full salute, it was anywhere from 13-14 inches.

"Wow," Eva said, taking a step back. Then she walked towards me, bent forward and gave it a pinch. "It's like a police baton or something. No wonder your friend wants photos of this thing."

She pushed it and it swung back and forth. "Look," she said to Enrico, "A clock." The fat man smiled.

Eva ran into the next room and returned with a camera that was nearly as big as my prick. She smiled and began snapping away. "Fantastic," she said.

I stood so she could see me in profile, then the other side. Soon she was giving orders.

"Put your leg up on the table," she said. I did so, and my dick fell lazily to one side.

"Hey, now I can't see," Enrico said with a pout.

"Arms above your head," Eva said, taking photo after photo. "Now one leg back."

I did everything she asked. Soon she was laying on the floor between my legs, shooting up at it. My dick was almost laying on top of her and the camera.

After about 20 minutes of this, Eva sat down, sighing loudly. "Inspiring," she said to Enrico, "what a prick."

"Lucky girl," he told her.

"You're used to being on display, aren't you?" she said, "But we've yet to see it in action." She winked.

I gyrated my hips for a moment, whipping my cock around in a circle. They laughed, and I did it a few more times. Each time it passed by it would strike my stomach with a whump.

"That's not the kind of action I was talking about," Eva said, pointing the camera at me. "Get it up."

Staring at her substantial cleavage made it easy. As my giant dick came to life, Eva continued taking pictures, getting closer now and then farther back, the camera never straying far from my crotch.

"Stroke," she commanded. I did just that.

I began with long, powerful pumps, fondling my testicles with my free hand. The erection stood swollen out over the table toward Eva, who continued to shoot it without stopping. I quickened my pace, jerking it ever more violently. Soon my massive cockhead was red and angry-looking. I sat down on the leather sofa, which chilled my ass, my balls slipping into the crevices created, and continued to beat away at my cock, now playing with and twisting the knotted skin around the head. Eva knelt down before it, clicking continuously. My ass squeaked against the leather as I pounded away, inches from the lens and Eva's lovely face.

"Look out," I told her, "The camera..."

She raised it high above her head and out of range, but couldn't get out of the way, herself. First a few droplets dribbled out, then a giant blast, followed by another, and another. Each one struck the astonished photographer full in the face, but by the third or fourth shot she was smiling slightly as semen coursed down her cheeks and neck and in between her full, gorgeous breasts. Her shirt was wet through with my come, and I could see her erect nipples pushing through the fabric. I shook the last drops from my dong and rubbed it against the leather couch as Eva sat back down on the floor, placing the camera down on the jism-stained rug.

"I think," she said, "that I have found my muse."