It all began the summer before college. My father told me I was wasting my summer, He kept asking why I at 18 years old didn't have a steady girlfriend, and if I was thinking about what I would major in at college. It was the regular blah, blah.
I wanted to go to art school and he wanted me to get a business major. We were worlds apart.
I was lying out in the hot sun by our pool when I heard our neighbor Ray cutting his lawn. Peeking over the fence I watched as he pushed the lawn mower shirtless and sweaty. I used to cut his lawn when I was younger. He paid me well and never treated me like a little boy. He had a way about him that made you feel like you were important. He listened without lecturing or judging. There were rumors about him. Most of the neighborhood men liked him, and a few of the women including my mother flirted with him. When my father saw my mother drooling over him, he would claim that he heard he was Gay.
My mother Jean would look at him and say, "Robert, you're just jealous you don't have his chest and flat stomach."
My father would just shake his head and say, "Yeah, that's it, I'm jealous, have you ever seen him with a woman?"
As I watched him I could feel my cock swelling in my Speedos. I reached down and fondled myself. I didn't care what my father said. I remember having a crazy boy crush on him, I had fantasies too. I just wanted him to touch me, I wanted to feel his arms embrace me. I had heard my father say he was Gay for so long, it was like a broken record. But secretly I hoped the rumors were true. He was so masculine, but he had a softer side, unlike all the other macho neighbor men. Maybe that was the problem, he was vulnerable and could be emotional. I had seen that when he learned his mother had passed away.
Ray glanced over and saw me looking at him and waved me over. I was so excited, I forgot my swimsuit was revealing. I immediately went through the gate and walked across his lawn towards Ray.
He greeted me, "Johnnie, I haven't seen you all summer, where have you been?"
I looked at him as the sweat ran off his smooth chest down to the waist of his worn denim cut-offs. The bulge in front was under a thinning and frayed spot in the fabric. Under the frayed fabric, it appeared to reveal something hard and flesh-colored.
"Johnnie, you with me?" he said, shaking me out of my trance.
"I don't know, I've been around, hanging out, you know," I said, unable to put my words or thoughts together.
"Hey, I need a break from this, wanna have a lemonade with me, we can go the house and cool down, this heat is killer."
Ray extended his hand pointing towards the house indicating I should go first and he would follow. I sensed he was looking at my butt tightly encased in my white Speedos. I had no idea if he was, but I hoped he was. I had made my way into his house on dozens of occasions when I cut his lawn, but this felt different.
"Here, let me get the door for you," Ray said.
This was weird. All of a sudden he's treating me like he's courting me. I always opened the door, before. And now he's holding it open as I pass through. It felt weird, but I liked it. I craved how that felt. I immediately sensed he was doing things my father would never do, and maybe I wanted him to do.
Ray walked right behind me, as we bumped into each other entering the kitchen. I could feel his sweat on my back from when I fell back into him. His hands gripped my hips and steadied me before they quickly slipped away. I could still feel them there if I closed my eyes.
"Hey, you okay?" Ray asked.
I nodded. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what I was feeling. I finally understood the term, "butterflies in my belly"...
Ray moved closer leaning against me and pointed to a chaise, "Sit," he said.
He turned and began putting ice in glasses and pouring lemonade. Just the sound of the ice cubes clanking in the glasses was refreshing. I raised my hand, curling it over my shoulder to wipe his perspiration on my fingers. I brought them to my face and inhaled. His scent was pungent and manly. It had been a while since I sat on his chaise, I usually sat with him at the table and had a cool drink. I couldn't resist, I brought my fingers back to my nose and inhaled. It was fading, I inhaled deeper, parted my lips, and licked my finger.
Ray turned and said, "Johnnie, you're being really quiet, are you okay?"
"Yeah?" I said as more of an ask, than a statement. My voice was scratchy and dry. I couldn't wait for a sip of the lemonade.
Ray served the drinks and sat down next to me. The air conditioner was blowing cold air, but I believed I could feel the heat permeating from Ray's body. He was close, our thighs were touching.. I was nervous and excited, the anticipation of where this was going was so incredibly arousing, and yet I was trembling. It was not like him to act like this with me. I liked it, but I needed to steady myself.
"You used to swim, right?" He asked.
"Yeah, I was okay, I couldn't get a scholarship, but I was good."
"Those speedos you're wearing, they look like they have your school's logo, did you swim in those?"
I nodded, knowing my cock was bulging the front and there was a small wet spot where my cock head lay. I thought I saw Ray glance down, maybe he didn't see the wet spot.
"Hey, Johnnie, I have a proposition for you, are you game?"
I eagerly asked, "What, you want me to finish your lawn?"
"Hmmmm...I wasn't gonna say that, but...No, you're aware that I'm an art director, right?"
"Yeah, I knew you were an artist, Actually I'm jealous, my father wants me to get a business degree and I wanna go to art school, but yeah I knew you were into art."
"Well, I do some things on the side, not work-related. I have some clients who like a particular genre of art. I was wondering if you would like to help me with some figure studies."
I looked at Ray with a surprised look, but kind of intrigued, "You want me to pose for you?"
"Yep, if you want to," Ray said as his eyes scanned my body from my toes to my lips.
Ray was looking right at me, waiting. I knew I wanted to pose for him. I wanted him to look at me. I craved his attention. All of a sudden I wanted him to lean in and kiss me. I wanted to feel his sweaty body pressed against mine, his cock grinding into me as I parted my thighs. What was I thinking? I had fantasized so many times about a moment just like this. I felt myself tremble with desire.
"I do, I want to, I want to pose for you," I said, my breath erratic and my heart beating fast and hard.
Ray smiled and paused, his hand reaching over and resting on my thigh, "Would you like to see my studio?"
Suddenly I felt naked. My cock was hard and throbbing in my tiny Speedo. I knew when I stood up Ray would see it. I wondered what he would do. Would he ignore it? God, I wanted him to see my cock, to touch it, stroke it. Ray stood and extended his hand as a gesture to help me stand up. Again he was showering me with attention, or was it just help? Did he see me as a weaker male? Did he see how I was struggling to deal with our changing relationship? I felt light-headed as I took his hand and stood.
Again we were face to face, our faces inches apart. I could feel his breath kissing my lips. I looked back at him and bit my lower lip.
"Follow me, I don't think you've ever seen my studio, have you?" Ray asked.
I said, "No, I'd only sat in your kitchen after I cut your lawn."
I followed him down the hallway to a room that must have previously been a bedroom. I peeked around the corner and stared at what must have been his bedroom with a large kingsize bed and mirrors on the ceiling. A thrill ran through me as I fantasized about laying on my back and looking at a reflection of Ray's butt clenching as he thrust into me.
"Johnnie, are you coming? Oooooh, you wanna see my bedroom...here...come."
Again, he reached out and held my hand, momentarily pulling me into his room. I felt so small compared to him, a little submissive, like he would treat a girlfriend if he had one. I liked the feeling. My cock throbbed again as I wished he would just grab me and throw me on his bed, and pull off my speedos. leaving me naked and willing.
We stood at the foot of his bed. A picture of a naked young male reclining on his side with his penis hidden under his hand hung over the headboard. My heart was racing. Did Ray want me to pose like the male in the picture?
"Did, you take that picture?" I asked.
"I did. I originally shot it with the intent to use it as the basis for an oil planting I was going to do, but I never quite finished it. The young guy went back to school and we lost touch with each other, it's a long story."
"Is that how you'd like me to pose?" I quietly asked.
Ray looked at me for a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity before he asked, "Would you, if I asked you to?
I looked Ray in the eye and nodded. Ray turned and gently laid his hand on my bottom, turning me toward the door. His hand felt so good, causing my cock to throb again. I loved the way he touched me, and how he guided me. I liked how he took control, I wondered what he would be like to be lying naked in his bed. What would he expect from me? As I walked ahead of him and entered the studio his hand squeezed my butt cheek momentarily before he pulled it away.
"Well, this is it, my home studio."
There was a drawing table and an easel, a messy bed with disheveled sheets, and a leather recliner. There was lighting that hung from the ceiling and on stands on the floor. There was a camera on a tripod, and then there was Ray looking at me.
"You wanna do some test shots? Just for fun?" Ray asked.
