by Neil Plakcy
“I shouldn’t be,” I said. My parents have had the same number for decades. “Why did you call?”
“You don’t know?” he said. “You’re hot again. You won’t believe how many calls I get for handsome men of a certain age, and that cowboy book with you on the cover is the talk of the town. Everybody in New York wants you. I’m the only person who knows who you really are and I have a dozen advertising agencies and three magazines already lined up.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Not interested?” Apparently Delray had become successful despite losing his first client. “You know the kind of money I can get you?”
“I left all that a long time ago,” I explained.
Carson stepped into the foyer and I looked at him. I had finally taught the slender photographer how to dress when he visited the ranch, and he wore a denim shirt, Wrangler jeans, and ropers. His Shantung straw Stetson hung from the coat tree in the hall, next to mine.
I said into the phone, “I have everything I ever want right here.”
I don’t regret traveling the world as a model, nor do I regret the wild adventures I had as a young man, but fashion modeling is a young man’s game. I had no desire to return to the bright lights of the big city. I had traveled around the world just to realize that I could find everything I ever wanted within spitting distance of my front door—wide-open sky, hard physical labor, and a committed relationship.
My former agent continued talking long after I stopped listening. I dropped the handset into its cradle and stared deep into Carson’s eyes.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
The phone began ringing again, but I ignored it.
I had a lot to tell Carson about my former life. But that could wait. I took his hand and walked into the dining room where we joined my family.
SWEET CHARITY
Heidi Champa
I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, Marty.”
“You look great, Wes. Quit worrying. Besides, it’s for charity.”
“That’s not the point, Marty.”
“It’s a good cause. Besides, you don’t want to disappoint your fans, do you? The press release went out last week. People are expecting you to participate. Quit being such a diva, will you?”
“Fuck you, Marty.”
Marty smiled as he walked over to the craft services table and grabbed a donut. I was starving, having not eaten all morning. Wouldn’t want to ruin my look for the photos. Moments later, his cell phone rang and he answered it immediately, despite having just started a conversation with the set director. Typical Marty behavior. I would have killed him if I wasn’t otherwise engaged at the moment. I sighed for the millionth time as the crew readjusted the lighting for the next set of photographs. I just stood still, waiting for them to finish. The makeup girl checked her work, and as her brush tickled against the skin on my stomach, I tried not to flinch.
This certainly wasn’t my idea of charity. Charity was writing a check or buying some tickets to an expensive dinner or putting a colored ribbon on the lapel of my jacket. Charity wasn’t standing naked in front of a room full of people with nothing but a soccer ball to cover me. The crew was very understanding of my situation, but it was a fact that was hard to ignore. When everyone else in the room is wearing clothing and you’re not, uncomfortable doesn’t even begin to cover it. It was a nightmare come to life in some ways, the classic dream about showing up to school naked and everyone laughing. Except no one was laughing. They were flitting around, doing their jobs while I just stood there, waiting. With no clothes on. Marty shot me a smile and thumbs-up, but I could only scowl at him as he shoved another pastry in his mouth.
Six months ago, when my agent Marty approached me about posing naked for the soccer league’s charity calendar, it sounded like a great idea. But I had forgotten about it until a week ago, when Marty told me to start doing more sit-ups, because the photo shoot was just around the corner. By that time, I couldn’t back out and I now found myself getting my abs highlighted with makeup and having oil rubbed on me by a girl with black-rimmed glasses. She took her time, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was trying to get my attention. But her caresses were wasted on me. I’m sure some of the other players who were slated to be in the calendar would like her a lot. I just smiled and tried not to move too much.
Marty sauntered over, his phone call just ending. He seemed oblivious to the pleas from the crew to stay out of the way, ignoring them like he did everyone else. As he got closer to me, he glanced down at the soccer ball I was holding in front of my cock and took a few steps back. We were close, but not that close. Clearing his throat, I noticed him stifling a laugh and I broke.
“I’m going to kill you for this, Marty. I swear to God.”
“Come on, Wes. Don’t be such a baby. It’s two days out of your life. They put you up in a swanky hotel suite and they are shooting your pictures tomorrow at one of the nicest beaches in the world. Man, you need to get a little perspective.”
He was right, damn him. There were worse things in the world than being objectified for a good cause. But, in the moment, it was difficult to focus on the positives.
“I mean, face it Wes. People want to look at you naked. I personally don’t understand it, but if it helps this charity sell a few thousand more calendars, that should make you feel good. And if it helps you get a shitload of new endorsements, all the better. Hell, maybe it will even help you find a date.”
“Fuck you, Marty. I don’t need any help getting a date.”
Marty rolled his eyes at my comment, because he knew exactly how long it had been since I’d had a decent date. Damn him, and his nosiness about my personal life.
“How exactly would it help me do that?”
“I knew I’d get you with that one. There is an assistant over there who has nearly spilled five cups of coffee because he can’t take his eyes off you. Don’t walk near him, or you’ll fall in his puddle of drool. If you weren’t so busy grousing, you might have noticed him eye-fucking you from across the room. You’ve got to focus on the benefits here, kid. So, play nice and it will end up working out. For all of us.”
Marty stepped off the set, just in time for the next set of shots to start. Once Marty was gone, I scanned the room and found the assistant Marty was talking about. He was hovering right behind the photographer, his eyes half-hidden by the shadows. He seemed young, like a typical college kid, maybe twenty-two or twenty-three years old. But it wasn’t easy to tell with the flashbulbs going off in my face. As they told me how to turn, where to stand, and not to smile, I caught glimpses of him. Marty was right. He stared at me the whole time, looking at me like someone who had never seen a naked man before.
I wasn’t one of those athletes so in love with myself that I assumed everybody wanted me. But this kid made it pretty fucking clear that he was interested. When I finally caught his eye, he looked away quickly, but after a few moments, his eyes returned to mine. As odd as it felt, focusing on his face made the whole photo shoot a lot easier. When the camera stopped flashing, he turned away, pretending to be engrossed in some piece of busywork. I could finally see him properly, and I liked what I saw. He was tall and fairly skinny; his sandy brown hair fell into his eyes every time he leaned down. It was my turn to stare at him, and I did so as he moved all around the set, attending to the needs of the increasingly moody photographer.
They gave me a robe to slip into while I waited for the next photo shoot and I found a chair near the back of the set. I tried to ignore all the food sitting next to me and sipped from my half-empty bottle of water. Marty was engrossed in a conversation with a young blonde girl who was helping with wardrobe. The photographer’s assistant walked toward me, his eyes shifting all over the room as if he was suddenly uncomfortable. Up close, he was really cute, and when I looked down at his college T-shirt, I knew I had guessed his age about right. That part I had gotten right. His blue eyes settled on me, and I couldn’t h
elp but smile.
“Mr. Hollingsworth, Gabriel thinks we’re done for the day. We’ll be ready to start tomorrow morning around eleven. A car will come to the hotel to pick you up around ten. Is that okay?”
I stood up, anxious to wash the makeup and oil off me and get back into my clothes. The assistant backed up a fraction, and I noticed he was a few inches shorter than I was. His lopsided grin made him look so sweet, and I had an overwhelming urge to run my hand through his messy hair.
“That’s fine. And, it’s Wes, by the way.”
“Okay, Wes.”
He started to walk away, but I didn’t let him get far.
“I didn’t get your name.”
“Joe. My name’s Joe.”
I looked across the room to Marty, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. He flashed me another thumbs-up and laughed. He just might be right after all. This whole thing could end up working out great.
I made Marty spring for dinner. He talked my ear off nearly the whole time about the cute wardrobe assistant and how he’d gotten her phone number. He did pause long enough to ask me about the photographer’s assistant.
“So, his name is Joe. What are you going to do about it, Wes?”
“Nothing. I mean, after the photo shoot is done tomorrow, I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”
“Well, then no time like the present. Come on, Wes. I’m not talking about the love of your life here. Why not just have a little fun?”
“I don’t know Marty. I mean, he’s cute, but he’s just a kid.”
“You’re a professional athlete, Wes. It’s your job to screw around and live the dream. How is anyone supposed to look up to you if you don’t hold up your end of the bargain?”
“You’re all heart, Marty.”
After dinner, I spent most of the evening walking around the city. Back at the hotel, I started watching some stupid movie on television, and I had just about fallen asleep when I heard someone knocking. Thinking it was Marty, I jumped up and pulled the door open. But, it wasn’t Marty. It was Joe. To say I was shocked was putting it mildly. He looked just as sheepish as he did at the photo shoot, and just as cute. I motioned him into the room, and he entered without a word. He looked around the suite before turning around to face me, his hands jammed into his jeans pockets.
“I just wanted to stop by and let you know we’re going to be starting the photo shoot a little later tomorrow. So, you won’t have to be ready as early.”
I took a few steps closer to him, Marty’s words ringing in my head. He was right. It had been too long since I’d had any fun at all. And Joe looked like he could be a lot of fun.
“Oh. Okay. But, you know, you could have just called. You didn’t need to come all the way over here to tell me that.”
I took another step closer to Joe, and he swallowed hard as I continued talking.
“I think there is another reason why you came here, Joe.”
“What do you mean, Mr. Hollingsworth?”
“I told you, it’s Wes. I saw the way you were looking at me during the photo shoot today.”
“Well, I was just…I didn’t mean to. I mean, uh, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, Joe. It’s not like I mind or anything. But I think you came here for something more than just a scheduling change.”
“Okay, you caught me. I figured I’d take a chance. I mean, when am I ever going to get an opportunity like this again?”
“That’s funny, Joe. I was thinking the same thing.”
I put my hand around the back of his neck and pulled his face to mine. A small yelp left his mouth as I kissed him, his hands now out of his pockets and around my back. He went from timid to eager in the span of just a few moments, his hips pushing forward into mine as we stood making out in the sitting room of my hotel. When I pulled back, Joe kept his eyes closed for an extra second before looking at me. I swept my thumb over his jaw, enjoying the feeling of his soft skin. I looked down and saw the bulge of Joe’s erection pressing into the zipper of his jeans. His hands kept roaming all over me, touching me anywhere he could reach. It had been a long while since I’d been with anyone so eager and adorable.
“So, why all the pretense, Joe? You could have just been honest with me from the beginning.”
“Gabriel doesn’t like anyone fraternizing with the models. He thinks it’s terribly unprofessional. I really need my job.”
“Well, it’s lucky for you I’m not a model.”
“You could be, you know Wes. You are certainly hot enough. I mean, if the whole soccer thing doesn’t work out, of course.”
“Thanks for the compliment Joe. And, don’t worry. What Gabriel doesn’t know won’t hurt him. It can be our little secret.”
Joe’s hands yanked my hips forward, his hands moving to my belt. For a moment, I panicked, suddenly unsure of what I was doing. Joe was a cute kid, but there was a moment of hesitation where the logical part of my brain wanted me to slow down. But, as his fingers fumbled slightly on the button of my pants, the zipper easing down slowly, those doubts flew out the window. His long fingers slid into my boxers, a moan escaping my lips when I felt him touch my hardening cock. He wrapped his fist around me as his tongue moved deeper into my mouth. I gripped his shoulders for dear life, my hips moving forward without thought. I whimpered when his hands left me, leaning forward to nibble his lips quickly before he dropped to his knees in front of me. He pulled my pants down my legs while I tore off my shirt, tossing it aside. I looked down and saw him staring at my cock with worshipful eyes. I couldn’t help but moan at the sight.
“Fuck, Wes. What a cock. It’s the one thing I didn’t get to see during the photo shoot. It was worth the wait.”
Joe’s hand gripped me tight, his thumb passing gently over my weeping slit. I watched in awe as his delicious lips wrapped around the head of my cock, his tongue meeting my sensitive flesh for the first time. I expected him to be timid or clumsy, but he was neither. His tongue moved over me slowly, but he was confident in all his movements. My eyes shut tight when I felt his lips move lower and lower, the head of my cock bumping against the back of his throat. I couldn’t keep my hands out of his rumpled hair, gently guiding his bobbing head as he sucked me hard. It was beyond me to be quiet, my moans filling the large room. His enthusiasm overwhelmed me, his hand gripping my thigh as he moaned with every sweep of his hot tongue. I felt the familiar tremble run through me, as I got closer and closer to cumming.
He pulled his mouth back, standing up to shuck his jeans and shirt off. I stared at him, my tongue itched to taste his sweet skin. I started with each of his nipples, giving them tons of attention. As I moved lower, I stopped to lave over each bump of his abs, his thin body well muscled. My hands explored what my mouth couldn’t, feeling his muscles strain and relax as I touched him.
It was my turn to drop to my knees, my face right in front of his young, hard cock. I marveled at it, admiring its every detail. The thick drop of liquid at the tip begged to be licked away, and I obliged. His ragged breathing gave away his nerves, despite his calm façade. I let my tongue swirl over the head of his cock. It felt thick and silky soft, his salty-sweet taste filling my mouth. I sucked him gently into my throat, easing down slowly. His hands fisted my hair, his hips pushing forward, trying to urge me on. Trying to keep us both on the edge, I teased him, not giving him too much too soon. His ass tensed under my hands, his body a mass of tension and effort. His voice wobbled, but it still sounded so good.
“Oh God, oh fuck Wes.”
I just smiled before devouring him fully, my nose touching his flat belly. But his reprieve didn’t last long. I pulled back, rubbing my lips against his weeping head, avoiding his advances.
“Please, Wes, I can’t take much more.”
I went back to what I was doing, but my own desperation was outweighing my need to exact my revenge. After a few more deep thrusts of his cock in my throat, I stood up. His mouth was immediately on mine, kissing me frantically.
Once I got back to the couch, Joe was right back onto my lap, our hard cocks rubbing against each other as I pulled him closer and took one of his tiny nipples into my mouth. While he was distracted, I popped open the lube and began smearing the liquid onto his puckered asshole. He started groaning and pushing back against my fingers. I strafed his nipple with my teeth, just as the tip of my index finger slipped inside him. I expected him to pull away, but he grabbed my head, holding my mouth right where it was. He squirmed above me, and I managed to work my finger inside him almost all the way. Joe sat back, licking his lips as he stared down at me.
“Shit, Wes. I’m tired of waiting. Fuck me.”
His brazen words shocked me. Shy Joe was clearly long gone; his lascivious eyes devoured me as I rolled the condom onto my waiting cock. He took me in hand and positioned himself above me, guiding me as the tip spread his asshole open. I closed my eyes, just for a moment as I felt him open up, a little at a time, his tight heat covering my cock. Joe was silent above me, and my eyes went from his sweet face to watch the last few inches of my cock disappear into his ass. His hand wrapped around his dick, jerking himself as he adjusted to my cock in his ass.
I put my hands on his hips as I started to ride him, his tight ass squeezing my cock with each move. He leaned forward and kissed me slow and sweet, his free hand pressing hard against my chest. Joe was moving faster than I wanted him to, pushing me too close to the edge. As much as I wanted to keep watching him bounce around on my dick, I knew I would blow my wad too soon if I didn’t slow him down. I stayed inside him as I pushed him down on the couch, flat on his back. I held his ankles in my hands and slowly pulled my cock nearly all the way out of his ass. I only stayed still for a few seconds, but Joe whimpered as if it had been an hour. I smirked at his distress and then thrust back inside him, repeating the same slow torture a few more times. He looked down and watched me fuck him, his eyes transfixed on the place where our bodies met.
