Photo Shoot 1

I'd known Daryl since we'd been thirteen or fourteen years old. Unlike most of the guys I'd been friends with at school, Daryl and I had stayed in regular contact and had occasionally visited one another at University. We'd even gone on the odd holiday together, either just the two of us or with our respective girlfriends, and had obviously grown pretty close.

So when Daryl told me he was finding it so hard to find decent employment that he might have to take up some crappy pound-an-hour 'typing from home' job just to get by, I had no qualms about telling him what I'd learned that evening round at Jono's.

With most of my other mates, I'd have worried that they might have objected to my suggestion that they'd take their clothes off for money, but Daryl and I knew each other well enough to be able to say stuff like that to each other.

As I'd suspected, Daryl wasn't in the least offended. In fact, he was as surprised as I had been that there was so much money to be had by simply taking your clothes off.

He'd laughed incredulously on the phone: "Two hundred fuckin' quid for getting your knob out... Jesus! I'd have to type... what is it... like five hundred letters or something to get that much..."

"Yeah... it's good money..."

He barked, "Hey - is it tax-exempt?"

"How would I know?!" I laughed. "Jono was just making conversation - he didn't get a contract out or anything..."

Daryl chuckled. "Well, even if it isn't - I'd still be pretty interested..."

I went on: "No point, mate: you have to be fit, otherwise the magazine isn't gonna want to buy the photos. No-one's gonna want to see some bloke with a beer-gut and a lard-arse struttin' around..."

He laughed again. "Actually, I've toned up pretty nicely since you last saw me. I've still got a card for the university gym and, well, let's face it - I've got fuck all else to do during the day right now..."

"Yeah right."

He sounded adamant. "Yeah, fuckin' right. I reckon a body like mine would be right up their street..."

I continued teasing him. "Well, even if you've got the body for it, mate, Jono mentioned something about having a good-sized dick... so that's you pretty much out of the running..."

He laughed loudly. "Fuck off! Don't be such a tosser, Seb..."

"I'm not being a tosser! I just don't think Jono's got a zoom lens that'd be strong enough..."

He chuckled. "Yeah yeah yeah... Seriously, though. D'you think he'd want to photograph me?"

I paused. "I dunno. I see him around town sometimes... I could ask him..."

Daryl asked, "Have you got his mobile number?"

I realised how much he needed the money.

"You're that hard-up?"

"You bet. Hey - I'm nicking loo rolls from the gym toilets, mate..."

I pretended to laugh but I actually felt quite saddened to hear that Daryl was stooping to that.

I said, "Well - if you've got a mate who'd be up for it - Jono said that two guys can get a thousand quid for posing together -"

Daryl quickly interjected, "I wouldn't go in for doing gay stuff..."

"No - not gay stuff. No touching. Just messing around together."

"What - with nothing on?"

"Pretty much."

He went silent for a few seconds. I let him consider the idea.

The silence continued and I wondered if he might be feeling uncomfortable by my suggestion.

Eventually I said, "Sorry - I shouldn't have mentioned that... forget it..."

But Daryl replied, "No - I'm just amazed at how much. A thousand pounds...?"

"That's what Jono said..."

Again Daryl went quiet.

After a few more seconds of thought: "Maybe I'll catch the train down to Southampton, Seb. Could you put me up for a few nights?"

I smiled. "'Course I could, mate."

*****

We went round to Jono's that Friday night and Jono handed Daryl the same magazine that he'd shown me.

Daryl flicked through it, intrigued.

He muttered, as he glanced at the centre spread showing a couple of guys in football strips simulating sex, "I'd have never have considered doing anything like this... I wouldn't have thought it would pay so well..."

Jono smiled. "So you'd be interested in having a few shots taken of you undressing or something?"

Daryl looked up at him. "D'you think I'd make a good enough... er... subject?"

Jono nodded. "I'd have to see you with nothing on... but I think you'd be pretty good. The last guy I photographed got two hundred and he wasn't as fit as you..."

Daryl grinned. Jono blushed slightly, quickly correcting himself: "I mean, he wasn't as athletic as you..."

I asked Jono who the other guy had been, wondering if I might know him.

Jono shook his head. "That's between me and him. You're welcome to buy the magazine next month, Seb, if you're that interested... but anything which happens in this room goes no further, as far as I'm concerned..."

I nodded. "Yeah... I guess that's fair enough..."

Jono went on, "I figure that if I start spreading gossip about guys I photograph, no-one's gonna want to pose for me..."

Daryl said, "I was going to ask about that. I mean, it's not like I know many people in Southampton... but I'd definitely need to know you're not gonna go around mouthing off about me..."

After Daryl had agreed that he'd be interested in going ahead, Jono asked him to undress so that he could see whether he'd be, as he put it, "suitable". I figured Jono wanted to look for stuff like birthmarks and pimples, and needed, of course, to check out the size and shape of Daryl's cock. Otherwise he might end up wasting a roll or two of film before realising that something as apparently trivial as a scar in just the wrong place would make the shots unmarketable.

I offered to leave the room, but Daryl just snorted: "Like you've never seen it all before, Seb...? Come on, mate, don't get all prissy..."

I chuckled. "I was just being polite..."

Daryl glared over at me. I realised that I was making this a bigger deal than he wanted me to; he wanted to keep things nice and casual to avoid him feeling embarrassed. He muttered, "It's not like a gynaecological examination or something... I'm just getting my kit off..."

"Yeah, okay."

He stripped off quickly and efficiently. Jono said, "You'll have to... er... slow things down a little for the shoot..."

Daryl smiled. "I can put on a bit of show when I need to... don't worry, mate..."

As he threw his clothes off, it became clear that Daryl's claims that he'd been spending a lot of time in the gym had not been an exaggeration. His body was beautifully toned - in the best state I'd ever seen it - and the muscles of his arms and chest looked strong and firm. He'd even managed to cultivate a set of clearly-defined abs, a feat I hadn't yet managed to achieve.