A gay story: Hot Shot copyright 2007 by Sedonia Guillone
“Hey, Paul, will you photograph me?”
Paul froze. He clutched his towel and stopped in mid-rub of his wet hair. The room filled with silence, the only sound, the evening spring rain that pelted the living room window. Slowly, he lowered the towel, turned, and looked at Carlo.
Large brown eyes watched him from under a thick fringe of ebony lashes. Carlo had already toweled the rain off his own thick glossy hair and the shaggy locks tumbled around his face, set off his high cheekbones. His smooth black goatee and mustache emphasized his full lips. Paul had spent countless moments fantasizing about kissing those lips.
Paul’s heart thumped. Carlo’s beauty always struck him and in the whole three years of their friendship, he’d ached to capture that beauty on film. “Are you serious?”
What appeared fleeting shyness passed across Carlo’s face, quickly replaced by his usual coolness. “Yeah, man. I’m serious.”
Paul nodded. His heart pumped in rapid beats now and his cock stirred and jumped to attention in his jeans. He set the towel aside and cleared his throat. “Okay, then. If you want me to.” He forced himself to act casual, far from the emotional chaos that churned his blood. In three years as housemates, Carlo had never expressed interest in getting photographed, not even in his soccer uniform or at his garage where he designed and built the hottest choppers in their part of California. “May I…uh…I mean, I’m just curious—”
Carlo’s soft laughter interrupted him. “I know. You can’t believe it.” He shrugged and looked down. “I don’t know, man. Just like this.”
Paul stared at him another moment. He had the sense Carlo was holding something back. But hey, he wasn’t going to push. Carlo’s asking to be photographed was a fantasy come true, as rare as Halley’s comet. “Well…” Paul gestured in the direction of his studio, really, a spare bedroom in the back of his house he’d converted into a studio. “This way.” He led Carlo there.
“Should I change or something?”
Paul turned around and looked at him. The rain had soaked Carlo’s white t-shirt and plastered it to his lean torso. Carlo’s skin, the color of light caramel, showed through the wet cotton as did the tiny peaks of his dark nipples, hardened, apparently, from the coolness of rain. Below that, he wore a baggy pair of jeans.
Paul cleared his throat again. Aside from nudity, Carlo couldn’t have looked sexier for the kind of photographs Paul envisioned. “No. You’re…perfect.”
A shudder of electricity seemed to pass between them. Carlo blinked. “Okay. Just tell me what to do.”
Take your clothes off and let me suck your cock. Paul didn’t say the words out loud. He wouldn’t dare. Carlo had never given him any indication that Paul’s wild attraction to him was mutual. Paul figured that if Carlo had wanted him, he would have included him in the string of lovers Paul had seen pass through over the last three years.
Paul cleared his throat again. “Um, just…I don’t know. I guess…” His hands shook as he adjusted his camera, already set up on its tripod from a job the day before. “Start with something natural.”
Paul indicated the sofa draped with sheets he’d set up for yesterday’s photo shoot for Gay Life magazine. That had been a joy to shoot. Three gorgeous guys in underwear draped all over each other.
But today? Was better.
Carlo sat down on the sofa and leaned against the cushions, one muscled arm along the back of the sofa. He looked up from under his heavy lashes, lips pouting. “How’s this?”
Paul’s heart jumped. Electric heat zinged up his arms and down into his groin. Carlo looked…incredible. In that pose, he was sexy, alluring and innocent all at once. “Perfect,” he said softly. He adjusted his camera, set the lighting in the room and shot the picture.
“Should I do another pose?” Carlo sat up and raked a hand through his thick ebony hair. Inadvertently he looked off to one side. Perfect. That pose, too, brought out Carlo’s irresistible combination of dark sensuality and innocence.
“Stay like that,” Paul ordered. Carlo obeyed and Paul shot the picture.
Carlo turned and smiled. “This is kind of fun,” he said. He draped his arms over his thighs and leaned forward.
Paul shot another picture. “You seem to be a natural.”
“Nah.” Carlo lay back, one arm bent behind his head. His t-shirt rode up just enough to expose half of his tight abdomen. “You’re a good photographer, man.”
A shiver of lust tore through Paul. He forced his attention off the thin trail of ebony hair that ran down the center of Carlo’s stomach and onto shooting the picture. “Thanks,” he managed to say. Carlo had often praised his work and Paul felt ridiculously pleased each time. He’d won several awards for his photos in the past three years and attributed his success to the fact that he worked so hard to please Carlo.
The thought made Paul ache to confess the raw emotions he felt for his housemate. He remained silent and kept snapping pictures. His tension melted away as he got into the flow of taking pictures. Carlo moved from one pose to the next, as if he’d been a model for years.
Suddenly, Carlo sat up and stripped off his t-shirt. He dropped it to the floor and looked directly at the camera, his hands on his thighs.
Paul’s finger froze on the button. He cleared his throat. His heart took off like a bucking bronc and his stomach fluttered like it did when he had his first crush back in high school.
“Is this okay?” Carlo looked worried. “Should I put it back on?”
“No!”
Carlo grinned and chuckled. “Okay.” He lay against the cushions, both strong arms along the back of the sofa.
Paul stared through the eyepiece. He pretended to be adjusting the focus when he was really staring at Carlo’s rippling chest and abs, at the soft dark hair on his pecs that trailed down his stomach and at the chocolate brown of his small hard nipples. Paul’s mouth watered and now he had a major hard-on in his jeans. He’d had no idea that a pizza out with Carlo and running back home in the rain would end up like this. He shot the picture.
Carlo lifted one arm from the back of the sofa and ran his hand over his chest.
Paul licked his lips. For a brief second he wondered if Carlo was making fun of him, teasing him. His eyes widened as he looked through the viewer. He could swear there was a sizeable bulge in Carlo’s jeans, just behind the zipper. Was he hard?
Carlo slid his hand down his abdomen. Right down toward that delicious-looking bulge. He stared into the lens. His dark brown eyes took on a velvety sheen. His lids grew heavy and his full lips parted, as if he were breathing heavier.
Paul shot the picture. Damn, he couldn’t wait to develop that one.
“Hey Paul?”
The husky tone in Carlo’s voice made Paul’s heart thump. He swallowed hard and looked out from behind the camera. “Yeah?” He forced himself to look and sound calm. No easy task considering the raging boner he had. To him, Carlo was the hottest guy in the universe. Hotter than any movie star.
“How naked do I have to get before you take the bait?”
Paul nearly crumpled to the floor. Because his knees suddenly felt like jello. “Wha…What?”
Carlo chuckled softly. “You heard me.”
Paul let go of the camera and wiped his hands on his jeans. “B…b…bait?” He felt like an idiot.
Carlo raked a hand through his thick, raven hair. That shy look Paul had seen earlier now came over Carlo’s face, only now, it didn’t flit away so quickly.
Paul’s heart thumped again. Was Carlo nervous? Paul had always thought Carlo never got nervous.
“Yeah. I didn’t know how else to tell you, man. You’re so…quiet.”
Now Paul’s heart was racing almost too fast to breathe. “Tell…me?”
Carlo huffed, but the sound was like mock annoyance. In spite of his seeming shyness, he grinned, that devilish, sexy grin he had. The one that first made Paul go ga ga for him. “Yeah, man. You know, to tell you I…I want you.” His hands went to the button of his jeans. He worked it open, slid down the zipper and left them open. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath and his cock, the same caramel hue the rest of him was, Paul noticed, stood straight up from his black pubic hair. The thick veined shaft made Paul itch to touch and taste it.
Paul sucked in a breath. “You…want me?
Carlo pushed his jeans down past his hips and palmed his cock. He rubbed it in quick light strokes. ”
Paul stared. He watched Carlo’s hand slide up and down the length of his cock. Carlo sagged back into the cushions and his breath rasped loudly in the room.
“Get over here, man. Please. I mean, if you want to.” Carlo sounded insecure.
“I want to.” And did he! For three years now.
He came out from behind the camera and crossed over to the sofa. His heart pounded like a jackhammer as he sat gingerly down next to Carlo. Carlo’s scent, musk mixed with rain filled Paul’s nostrils, made him feel a bit drunk.
Carlo’s dark gaze simmered into his. Carlo reached out and cupped the back of Paul’s hair. “I love your hair,” he said softly. “It’s like silky gold.” He stroked the back of Paul’s short hair and neck with gentle fingertips. A pleasant shiver ran through Paul’s body, right into his cock. A brief image of Carlo stroking one of his newly finished bikes this way flitted through his mind, that of an artist appreciating his work. “Th…thanks.”
Carlo’s lids lowered more. “I like your blue eyes too.” He rubbed the nape of Paul’s neck, caressed him with the sweetest touch. “You like that?”
Paul nodded. He glanced down. Carlo’s hand still rested on his cock, which he stroked lazily. Wow, Paul couldn’t ever have imagined being here like this with the guy of his dreams. Maybe Carlo was just horny, or lonely. Maybe he wouldn’t still want Paul after they came. It didn’t matter…
With gentle pressure, Carlo drew Paul’s face down to his. “Kiss me,” he whispered. He parted his lips and Paul met them with his. At the first touch, Paul’s eyes fluttered closed. God, so soft, Carlo’s lips, just as he’d always imagined them. Carlo’s mustache and goatee tickled his clean-shaven chin in the sexiest way.
Paul sank in closer to Carlo, surrendered fully to the kiss. His nervousness melted away a bit more and he ventured to slip his tongue between Carlo’s heavenly lips. Carlo murmured softly in his throat and opened his lips wider, danced his tongue hungrily against Paul’s. Carlo’s hands groped at Paul’s t-shirt, lifted the damp material up.
“I want to see that bod of yours,” Carlo breathed between kisses.
Paul broke their kiss long enough to help Carlo get his t-shirt off. He was glad that he worked hard to keep in shape. He had the same v-shape to his torso and similarly carved abs and slim waist. He and Carlo were almost identical in height and physique.
“Mmm.” Carlo sat up and leaned into Paul, pressing Paul back against the cushions. Paul hitched a deep breath. His skin tingled under Carlo’s caresses and through his hazy pleasure, he saw the contrast of his pale skin with Carlo’s caramel skin.
Carlo leaned over and kissed him again while he stroked Paul’s chest. Carlo’s touch was appreciative, soft and reverent. Even the way he pinched and kneaded Paul’s nipples only stoked the hard-on raging in his jeans.
Carlo slid his hand down Paul’s stomach and worked open his jeans. He pushed his fingertips under the waistband of Paul’s boxers and stroked his cock. Carlo gasped softly and lifted from their kiss. “Damn, Paulito,” he said, grinning, “I always figured you were hung. Now I know for sure.” Before Paul could answer, Carlo kissed him some more, deep and hot.
Paul groaned into Carlo’s mouth and arched his hips upward. Carlo fondled the length of his cock and whispered his masterful touch over his balls, which tightened more with each caress. Carlo pulled away again. “I love your skin,” he murmured. “So silky over that hard cock.” Before Paul could answer, Carlo took his lips again, caressed Paul’s tongue with his.
He kissed Paul for several minutes. His kisses grew wilder as he slid down to his knees. He lifted away from his kiss and panted. His hot breath passed over Paul’s skin. Paul slipped his fingers into Carlo’s hair and sifted the length of it between his fingers. “I love your hair too,” Paul said, chest heaving.
Carlo grinned. Without speaking, he tugged down Paul’s jeans and boxers. Paul felt his cheeks heat. Damn, he was blushing! His freed cock stood straight up in a slight curve from his body. Carlo stared. His tongue came out and slid across his full soft lips. “Like I said before, well hung.”
Paul laughed. Carlo’s praise helped melt away more of his nervousness. “Thanks.” He hitched a breath as Carlo wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it.
“You feel sooo good,” Carlo crooned. He leaned forward and took the head of Paul’s cock into his mouth.
Paul lifted his head and watched. Sparks of heat danced on his skin every inch that Carlo engulfed in the moist heat of his mouth. Carlo feathered his tongue along Paul’s shaft. His dark head bobbed as he took Paul in and then slid back. Paul’s fingers remained in Carlo’s hair. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him; couldn’t have ever imagined Carlo on his knees, sucking his cock.
Carlo’s hand stole downward, slipped between Paul’s butt cheeks. Paul hitched another breath as Carlo caressed his tight hole with that same expert touch. He spread his thighs wider for Carlo and Carlo pushed a finger inside him. Carlo filled his hole gently, spread him open with soft but insistent tugs. The pleasure was incredible and Paul moaned. He couldn’t think at all. His mind, like his body from Carlo’s licks and strokes, was jello, completely under Carlo’s control. Whatever Carlo wanted to do to him, he could.
Carlo sucked Paul’s cock for what seemed a long time. Paul made himself hold back, even though Carlo’s masterful tongue and lips kept bringing him to the edge. Bit by bit, Paul’s shyness completely slipped away. Carlo was coaxing him to a frenzy. He slid his hands from Carlo’s hair to his strong shoulders.
Several tugs and Carlo let Paul’s cock slip from his mouth. He looked up, large dark eyes full of lust, lips gleaming. “What is it, Paulito? Am I hurting you?”
Paul shook his head. He’d always been shy about asking for what he wanted. Now, the thing he wanted most was within his grasp and shyness grabbed his words. He pulled again on Carlo’s shoulders.
A grin spread across Carlo’s sexy lips. He rose up onto his knees. Paul leaned over and pushed Carlo’s already loose jeans down his tapered hips and sloping thighs, strong from years of playing soccer.
Carlo’s erection sprang free. The thick shaft bobbed close to Paul’s mouth and a drop of pre-cum glistened at the tiny opening. Feeling bolder now, Paul reached out, wrapped his hand lightly around Carlo’s delicious, caramel-hued cock and leaned over. He swiped the tip of his tongue gingerly across the lobes of the plump head and licked up the tiny salty droplet.
Carlo groaned and pushed his hips forward. One hand slid through Paul’s hair, just long enough on top for Carlo to curl his fingers into. “Paulito,” he whispered.
Encouraged, Paul took the whole head in. Carlo’s answering groan urged him to take the shaft in deeper. As deep as he could. His lips bumped over the small veins and Carlo’s musky flavor filled Paul’s senses. Carlo was as delicious as Paul had always imagined he’d be. With his other hand he palmed the heavy sac of Carlo’s balls. Carlo groaned again and tightened his fingers in Paul’s hair. Paul tightened his lips and sucked Carlo more. He bobbed his head up and down, faster and faster and his wildness inside unleashed itself. Each suck on Carlo’s cock made his own body tingle. His cock and ass tightened, desperate for release.
Paul pulled back and Carlo’s cock slipped from his mouth. He looked up at Carlo’s flushed face. “Carlo…I…want…” Shyness overcame him again and he lay back, legs spread, hoping that the nonverbal message would work.
It did. Carlo chuckled and collapsed lightly on top of him. The studio lights had warmed their bodies as well as the heat of lust and their bare chests fused together. Paul felt like Carlo was making love to him on a sun-warmed beach. He slid his hands down Carlo’s strong back of smooth muscles, down to his perfect ass. He clutched the two hard globes of muscle. Carlo answered him with a hot kiss and the push of two thick fingers inside Paul’s tight hole, preparing him.
Carlo pulled out his fingers. “Don’t worry, Paulito, I’m safe. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
Paul nodded, panting. “I know.”
Carlo moaned softly, as if Paul’s trust in him was a turn on, and pushed the head of his cock, well lubricated from Paul’s mouth, in. Paul groaned and gripped Carlo’s ass tighter. He pulled Carlo closer and Carlo obeyed, pushed his cock in deeper…and deeper, until their bodies met.
“Paulito,” Carlo whispered again and plundered his lips and mouth with hot kisses. The passionate way he rode Paul and kissed him made Paul feel as if Carlo had wanted to do this for a long time. Paul tilted his head back and let his whole consciousness shrink to the feel of Carlo’s hot body on top of him, his cock inside him, rubbing the soft insides of his ass with perfect strokes, Carlo’s male scent and the iron quality of his lithe muscles.
Carlo pushed harder, deeper, moved faster until he groaned. His body stiffened and Paul could feel Carlo’s hot cum spurting inside him, filling him. Paul grasped his own cock and pumped it rapidly, wanting to come at the same time. In moments, he spilled over the edge. His cum made white ribbons of moisture that splashed on his stomach and chest.
He felt the tension run out of Carlo’s body just as his own climax ended. Carlo chuckled. And kissed Paul’s lips. Paul laughed too. He couldn’t stop. The two of them laughed together, and the sound mixed with the patter of rain outside. Paul rested his hands on Carlo’s triceps. When their laughter had passed, Carlo kissed him again.
Now that it was over, Paul felt afraid, afraid that this was a one-time thing. At least he’d had that. Too bad he wanted it for always.
“Thank you, Paulito.” Carlo kissed Paul’s forehead. “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you how I feel.”
Paul looked at him. “How do you feel, exactly?” His voice was timid to his own ears. When it came to Carlo, Paul felt vulnerable. He didn’t care, though, because he loved Carlo.
Carlo sighed. He remained above Paul, his cock still partly hard, inside him. Paul loved that and wished they could always stay this way. “Well,” Carlo said in a soft voice, “I realized I was beginning to love you when I started to compare every guy I was with to you, and he never measured up. I think that’s why I’ve never stayed with anyone. Then…yesterday when you had that photo job with those gorgeous guys, I was madly jealous. I realized I had to do something or I’d lose you. You’re hot, even though you don’t know it.”
Paul stared at him. His heart pounded and he was overcome with joy and disbelief. “Am I dreaming?”
Carlo returned his gaze. His smile faded. “No, man. I love you.”
Paul pulled Carlo down on top of him. “I love you too,” he murmured into Carlo’s hair.
Carlo kissed the side of Paul’s neck. “I’m sorry it took so long.”
Paul squeezed him close and smiled. This was turning out to be the best day of his life. “Don’t worry about it. I took a long time too. At least you came out and did something.”
Carlo rose up and looked down at him. He, too, looked really happy. “Well, it took me a long time. But at least I finally worked up the courage to take a chance.” He grinned and glanced up. “Thank to that camera of yours.”
Paul chuckled. “Yeah. I guess a picture really is worth a thousand words.”
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