Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction for entertainment only. Any resemblances to real people, places and events (past, present or future) is unintentional. It contains graphic sexual content which the author does not endorse. Practice sex safely and legally.
Magnificently Mortifying Modelling Maladies Chapter 06: Miles Meets Martin Part One, Undressed to Impress
APRIL 2024
BAD SPELING
Miles pulled off his muddy t-shirt and dropped it on the bench. The changing room was noisy and filled with the sights and smells of thirty-odd boys getting changed. PE was the last class of the day and Miles was sporty enough to be included in a football game with `the cool kids' – those not in the starting eleven for either team were released into the wild. Otherwise known as running laps.
Miles liked playing football – muddy boys, contact with boys, hugging boys in celebration and sometimes excited (totally platonic) kissing with boys.
Miles pulled off his football boots and rolled the socks off his feet. He removed a towel from his bag and then dropped his shorts and underwear in one swoop. Just a few months ago, Miles wouldn't have been so brazen. Lots of boys didn't shower after PE – most went home to shower in private instead of with other teenagers.
What kind of boy wanted to be totally naked around other boys?
Well, obviously, Miles wanted to be totally naked around other boys.
Modelling had made him more confident and three months ago, he'd modelled nude for the first time. Since then, Miles was much more self-assured about stripping and being seen by others. It helped that he had a big willy.
Miles was fifteen; his pubes and pit hair was scant and he was average height at best. However, his flaccid dick was at least five inches long and once it was erect, it topped 8.8 inches. Not that he got hard in the showers at school but since he started showering, the boys had clearly noticed the big dong swinging between his legs.
Miles assumed other boys looked. Surely everyone looked? It was just curiosity. There wasn't much teasing when it came to dick size in the shower because it opened up too questions about why the commentator was looking and then scrutiny of one's own penis. But they were looking! Everyone looked! Miles was secretly quite pleased that he wouldn't be teased for having a small prick – if anything he was too big but no boy thought that way at fifteen years old.
One by one, the others left until Miles was alone in the shower – last one in, last to leave. He listened to the laughing and joking of boys outside in the main changing room who were excited to be going home after another school day. It was the first week back after the Easter holidays and everyone was excited for the weekend.
"Is someone still there?" came the irritable voice of a man who wanted to go home.
Mr Lumsden, their PE teacher, had heard the water running and put his head around the shower area entrance; he was hoping someone had forgotten to turn the water off so he could get tidied up and leave for the weekend.
When Mr Lumsden saw Miles he stopped like a deer in the headlights. In January, when Miles had stood in as a life model for the first time, he had been seen by multiple people from the community. Micah – the lad who works in Starbucks had taken to drawing a penis on Miles's cup and handing him his drink with a wank. Wink! In the supermarket, Carson asked Miles "how's it hanging," which made Miles blush.
Miles's hair was full of shampoo when Mr Lumsden looked in so the teenager couldn't see the man ogling him. Miles was a Year 11 boy; not very tall, not much hair, thin, and big floppy willy that grew from five inches soft to nearly nine inches hard. Mr Lumsden didn't want to look at the boy but he couldn't look away.
It was so big!
Miles had recognised the voice, so he took an extra minute before washing the shampoo from his head and eyes. In that extra minute, Miles touched himself. Mile caressed his wet, slippery body and paid particular attention to his dick by pulling back the foreskin to clean underneath it.
Miles finally rinsed his hair and saw Mr Lumsden looking at him.
"Hurry up, ok?" Mr Lumsden said.
The man disappeared and Miles was again secretly delighted by the attention. He liked being able to seduce men. In fact, he had an arrangement with Mr Wainwright (a teacher from another school who organised his modelling gigs) to participate in an exciting modelling session with a man this weekend. Miles had been candid about catching Mr Wainwright recording him while he was naked and earnest that he didn't mind as long as he got a cut of any profits.
Miles was too young for Onlyfans so it didn't bear thinking about who Mr Wainwright sold the pictures and video to. Miles had been ejaculated upon and masturbated in Mr Wainwright's office and his cut of the profit from that had been very generous.
Miles' dad was a single parent who was doing his best but the extra money from modelling had come in very handy. If Miles had to be handsy to make more money, he was up for it. Nine inches up in fact. Who was he to turn down a three figure sum?
Miles padded through to the changing room to get dressed and discovered his schoolbag wasn't where it should be. The only thing he found was a Sixth Form school tie; while the idea of wearing only a tie on the bus home was exciting, Miles didn't seriously contemplate this as an option. In place of his schoolbag was a note scrawled in messy writing:
We left you're stuff in the musik room, donkey dick.
Fuck!
Miles contemplated the use of "you're" instead of "your" and "musik" instead of "music" and decided whoever wrote it was an idiot. Probably a jealous idiot given the implied insult of "donkey dick."
Miles peeked out of the changing room and pondered going to Mr Lumsden's office to embarrassingly admit what had happened. It might be fun to tease the man some more; plus, Mr Lumsden had already seen him naked so it wasn't a big deal. On the other hand... the school would be empty now. It might be even more fun to go for a walk. Mr Wainwright kept telling him to be more bold, brazen and brash.
Miles covered his genitals with his hands, scooping his donkey dick into his palms while cupping his balls. Miles shivered as he walked out of the changing room and past the girls changing room door. The corridor extended through the Design & Technology Department with Drama and then Music at the far end. The classrooms were mercifully empty of any stragglers and the teachers usually had a team meeting after classes ended. Miles needed to get his clothes before they came back to their rooms.
However, as Miles passed each classroom, he was acutely aware of his exposure. Miles imagined it being during the day and the bell ringing; the classroom doors opening and everyone catching him in the buff. He would have to push past a few people and they would laugh as they tried to pull his hands away. Phones would record him, his hands covering his penis and testes but not hiding his erect nipples or short pubes or his bare butt or his silky legs and bare feet.
The fantasy dissolved as Miles neared the Music rooms; there were five rooms but only one door was open. Miles hoped this was where he'd find his clothes. He nudged the door with his foot so he wouldn't need to uncover and then stepped inside. The was empty – not just of people, but of anything. His bag, and therefore his clothes, was nowhere to be seen. Whoever had taken his clothes hadn't even had the good grace to stick around to laugh at him.
On a desk at the front of the room, there was a second note. Martin had to cover his junk with one had to pick up the note:
dunno if you came for you're stuff nekkid, donkey dick but your bag isnt here. Its in the towle hamper lol.
"Fuck," Miles said to himself.
First of all because of the atrocious spelling, bad grammar and failure to capitalise, and second because he had wasted his time on a wild goose chase. Miles quickened his pace to return to the changing rooms; the thrill having evaporated after exposing himself for nothing. However, there were no surprises in store and he got back without being caught. Safely back to the locker room, Miles was able to reflect on the excitement of the risk again.
Miles had walked around the school naked. Naked!
He found his schoolbag in the towel hamper – the damp and smelly boy coated towels were an exciting contaminant for Miles' belongings. He unpacked his uniform and got dressed; Miles donned some special underwear and at the last moment decided to put on the Sixth Form school tie instead of his own. Miles didn't even need to towel off before dressing – having drip dried on his walk. Dressed and decent, Miles left the changing room again, closing the door behind him.
In a way, Miles was grateful. He had been anxious to strip off again in front of strangers and although no-one had seen him, the fact someone could have caught him had been mentally helpful. Miles had found the confidence for his after school modelling with a total stranger.
Mr Wainwright had promised a big surprise.
Unknown to Miles, the big surprise was very small.
SCHOOL UNIFOM
It was nearly an hour since the final class of the day ended so Martin felt quite safe showering in the school – no boys around to see him or make fun of him. Martin Willams was a twenty six year old teacher at a disgustingly privileged private boys school: St. Mervyn Poshford School.
It was by accident that before his first day he had modelled for a Sixth Form Art class and exposed his embarrassingly small...
Tiny.
Minuscule.
...penis. Modelling naked for students he ended up teaching had been mortifying. They sniggered when they saw him and made snide comments. The students didn't just make comments about his three inch boner; the rich boys also mocked him for his clothes and the fact he worked for a living instead of just being born rich. Three months after that humiliating Art modelling incident with the Year 13 students, the Year 12's made it clear they knew all about it too.
Martin had arrived to his classroom to find every single boy bare naked and barefoot. One of them, Monty, had made Martin measure him to prove the teenager had a bigger boner than a fully grown man. Indeed, the sixteen year old was twice as big as Martin. More than twice as big, actually. The class then used him as a cumdump – ejaculating all over him without even asking him to take his clothes off.
Then the worst thing of all happened. The fruits of the artists labour were realised.
Martin found himself the centre of an exhibition in every sense. Naked drawings of him adorned the Art classes for a special Art Fair before the Christmas holidays. Some of the drawings were close-ups and some Martin knew was him but the details of his face didn't make him identifiable. Unfortunately the details of his face and his anatomy got more comprehensive as the Art Fair went on. Martin thought the almost life-sized portrait and accompanying photo was the worst it could get. Not so! A film of him masturbating his micropenis was the climax of the Art Fair.
Every teacher and student in the school had seen it.
If Martin thought being mocked by Sixth Form boys had been humiliating, then being mocked by fourteen year old boys in Year 10 was even worse.
Martin had expected to be fired.
Instead, he got a pay rise. Martin knew he was being paid to keep quiet – that exposing him like they had would be bad press if the outside world found out. Not that Martin wanted anyone else to know. And so Martin took the money and the insults. Teenage boys laughed at him in the corridors and he'd find screenshots of exposure at random moments. The intermittent conditioning response made his mortification all the more unpleasant than if it was continuous and sustained.
Martin couldn't describe the Art teacher, Mr Wainwright, as a friend. The man was responsible for his exposure pre-day one. Mr Wainwright had enjoyed Martin's humiliation and, secretly, Martin had enjoyed it too. Martin didn't fancy boys or men, really. Or women. It wasn't something he talked much about because he was more or less asexual. Yet, the exposure and humiliation had been very, very exciting.
Mr Wainwright had approached him over a month ago and asked if he might like to try something else. A new modelling project with a very special model. Martin didn't know what that meant. He did know that he found the idea of a new embarrassing experience exciting. He was told to ask no questions and to go with the flow.
And, to have a shower after work and to arrive at the given address by 5PM.
Thus, Martin was in the school showers after classes had ended and was now drying himself. He wrapped the towel around his waist and walked back towards the changing area. When he emerged into it, he discovered he was not alone. He shouldn't have been surprised. Monty was one of his most dedicated tormentors. He was the boy who Martin had measured and then announced to be ten centimetres bigger. Now, Monty was sitting on the bench next to Martin's clothes.
"Hello, Montgomery," Martin said.
Martin cast his eyes down and held the towel tighter.
"Mr Williams," Monty said in an impressed tone followed by a whistle. "You look smoking hot!"
Martin had a fit physique; not overly muscular but very well defined and sparse hair on his chest and abdomen that emphasised tight pectorals and abdominal muscles.
"If it wasn't for the microscopic dick, you'd be the hottest guy in school," Monty said – damning with fair praise. "Drop the towel."
"No, Monty," Martin replied.
Martin had unexpectedly discovered he didn't need to cave into the bulling by his students. One would think a teacher would know this but it had taken Martin a long time to figure it out.
"Yes, sir. You have to take it off to get dressed... in your clothes..." Monty said.
It wasn't what he said but the way he said it that made Martin pay attention. Had the little shit stolen his clothes? Replaced them with a frock and ankle socks? No... that wasn't it. Martin looked at the boy and realised the teenager was wearing his suit. The boy wore it with an air of disdain – probably because it wasn't tailored and didn't cost a £1000. It wasn't an expensive suit but it hadn't been cheap either.
"Sorry, I meant get dressed in my clothes," Monty chuckled.
"Monty, give me my suit back," Martin said wearily.
"How?" Monty asked.
"Just take it off," Martin snapped.
"You pervert! You're asking a teenage boy to take his clothes off?" Monty said as if he were scandalised and offended.
"That's... that's not what I meant," Martin protested desperately.
Monty laughed at him and snatched at the towel, pulling it. Martin wrestled to hold it for a few seconds and then gave up. The boy had seen it all before anyway. The towel whisked away and Martin's squeaky clean skin was completely exposed. His penis was a petite two inch button that barely emerged from his short pubes. His balls were bigger than his dick.
"Hilarious," Monty said.
"Are you done now? Can I have my clothes back?" Martin asked.
"No, I'm going to a party later and need to dress up like a poor person," Monty scalded. "You can dress up like me."
With this, Monty turned on his heel and left the changing room with the towel while still wearing Martin's suit. Meanwhile, Martin reached into his bag and frantically hoped there would be something there. There was in fact underwear, a pair of trousers, a white shirt and a tie.
Monty had left Martin his neatly folded school uniform.
Martin blushed at the thought of wearing a teenager's uniform. Worse, he was bigger than the Year 12 lad so it would tight. It was as Martin unfolded it that he realised it wasn't even clean. It wasn't dirty but Monty had clearly worn it all day. It was doused in boyish smells.
Martin put the shirt to his nose and inhaled.
Martin pulled on the shirt first and buttoned it, the tails obscuring his ass and his genitals, which made him look a truly pathetic site. Martin was barefoot and the shirt skirted around his thighs.
Martin lifted the underpants next, sniffing them too.
"Take off your little pants, Monty," Martin said to himself. "Take of your underpants, now! You can have them back after class."
Martin chuckled to himself at the very idea of disciplining students in this manner; in the same way as he would if a student was caught using a phone in class.
Martin pulled on the briefs even though they were too small for him – they were also white and covered in blue and pink polka dots. They gripped his ass like they were painted on. Up front, his balls were squashed but his diminutive manhood barely made a dent.
Martin found his own socks in the bag and then pulled on the school trousers. They were neat around the thighs and the seat was tight around his ass and groin but they fit ok. Considering he was a twenty six year old man wearing a sixteen year old boy's clothes, they were a surprisingly good fit.
Martin even tied the school tie to complete the look.
Martin looked young but he did not look like a teenager – the effect was of a man dressed up like a boy which was just another shameful instalment in the saga of his recent life. Relenting to the costume, Martin lifted the bag that had notes and homework he intended to review over the weekend and left the locker room.
Martin had a date with Marcus Wainwright and he didn't want to be late.
INTRODUCTIONS
Miles walked up the Bent Way, looking at the house numbers as he went. The houses on the street were luxurious and clearly very expensive. Very, very expensive. Miles had checked and double checked the address and the number, so he came to a stop outside a detached house with a name engraved below the number:
69
EDGING
Mr Wainwright had told Miles that the house was a private photography studio which was true from a certain point of view. Miles walked up the short garden path. There was no garden at the front of the house but the courtyard was small and tidy. Miles rang the doorbell and it was answered a few seconds later.
"Can I help you?" asked the young... man... who answered the door.
The person was tall and narrow and thin with long arms and legs; their hair was bleached blonde and scraped backwards, they had a pale parlour that emphasised their blue eyes and their lips were red with lipstick. Their eyelashes were long and plump with mascara, blue eyeliner giving them an effeminate look. Their chin had speckles of stubble that deliberately reasserted their masculinity. The person had a broad but flat chest and abdomen while their biceps were nicely developed; altogether, they looked both formidable and femme.
"Sweetie? Are you here for your paper money or something?" the voice dripped with bitchy sarcasm.
"Huh?" Miles replied – he had been too busy checking them out. "No. I'm Miles... I'm here for Mr Wainwright?"
The person's eyes opened wide and their lips pulled into a salacious, seductive smile.
"You're Miles?" they asked. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Good things?" Miles asked nervously.
"Well aren't you just the cutest little thing. I'm Avery," they said and gestured with something like a bow to invite Miles in.
Miles stepped into the impressive foyer and Avery closed the door, checking out Miles's ass as they did so. There was no way that ass had been penetrated.
"All good things," Avery answered the question a minute too late. "Come on."
Avery sashayed to the right of a grand staircase and opened a door on the right. It opened into a bedroom that was huge and bright. It was dominated by a large bed with plenty of floorspace around it, to the side there was a desk with a variety of cameras on it for still frame photography and video recording. Miles knew what he'd signed up for but seeing the cameras was a daunting moment.
"Marcus will be here soon," Avery said.
Miles turned to look at them – for a moment not knowing who they were talking about. After a long second or two he remembered that Mr Wainwright's first name Marcus.
"Have you known Mr Wainwright for long?" Miles asked.
Avery chuckled and fluttered his long eyelashes with genuine amusement.
"Oh, you might say that," Avery replied. "He's my husband."
Miles did not hide his surprise well which only made Avery chuckle harder. Miles hadn't known Mr Wainwright was married – he hadn't asked – and didn't know why he was so surprised. Miles wasn't surprised Mr Wainwright was married because he was a handsome man. However, Miles had never been sure exactly what Mr Wainwright's sexual preferences were. If he was honest, Miles just still couldn't be certain. For sure, Avery was a beautiful and beguiling person but wouldn't want to guess what their sex or gender was. He could fucking ask, but he wouldn't.
Miles was saved from responding at all by the doorbell.
"Excuse me, Miles," Avery said.
Miles was not alone in the bedroom for long because Mr Wainwright walked in a moment later. He arrived too soon to have been the person at the door so Miles wondered if whoever Avery was letting in was the other model.
"Good afternoon, Miles," Mr Wainwright said. "New tie?"
"Hello, sir," Miles replied. "Yes... I found it in the changing room after school. Thought I'd try it on."
Mr Wainwright smirked and Miles could see the man thinking.
"Yes, it suits you. It makes you look older," Mr Wainwright commented.
Miles had grown in the last three months but was still far from being tall – he was 1.68m (five foot seven inches) and continued to sport a twunky physique that landed on the twink side of the twunk spectrum. If that was a thing that existed.
Marcus felt hands around his waist and a kiss on the back of his neck.
"Martin is here," Avery said.
There was a quiver in their voice because they knew Martin's big (small) secret and Avery also knew that Marcus had not told the boy. Marcus wanted Miles to be as surprised by how tiny the grown man's dick was; he also wanted Martin to be surprised by how huge the boy was.
This afternoon was going to be a lot of fun.
"Great. You met Miles?" Marcus asked.
"He's pretty as a picture," Avery purred.
Marcus turned and kissed Avery's lips and then slipped past them to step out of the bedroom door to meet Martin. Martin looked nervous. Marcus noticed that Martin was squeezed in a tight white shirt and black trousers and that he was wearing a school tie. While the Sixth Form School tie made Miles seem older than he was, the school tie on Martin just made him look like a young man dressed up as a schoolboy.
"Hello Martin," Mr Wainwright said.
He could have asked why Martin was dressed in a school uniform but:
-
it was more fun to ignore it and let the lack of enquiry hang over his head.
-
he knew what the boys at St. Mervyn Poshford's School were like and guessed they were involved.
"Hello Mr Wainwright," Martin replied.
While Marcus enjoyed the casual form of address, the insisted Martin show due respect.
"Come on. Let's go in," Marcus said.
Mr Wainwright re-entered the bedroom and Martin Williams followed – a moment later he saw Miles Beaumont for the first time. Miles was a cute lad and Martin recognised his school tie as from the Sixth Form of Chase Foundling High School. If Miles was seventeen or eighteen then he was short for his age, but Martin was hardly one to judge about shortcomings.
"Hello," Martin said and he felt silly offering his hand to shake so he held back.
"Hey," Miles replied.
Miles liked what he saw. The man was tall and had a nice physique, tight clothes and kind eyes. It looked like he was wearing a school tie which was funny for a grown man but Miles didn't comment considering he'd swapped ties himself and didn't want to invite comment about it.
"Martin, this is Miles. Miles, this is Martin," Mr Wainwright formally introduced them.
"Pleasure to meet you," Martin said sincerely.
"Likewise," Miles responded.
The stiltedness of their interaction made things awkward, but both knew why Mr Wainwright had brought them here and they were each nervous for different reasons. If Martin hadn't been so nervous, he might have asked more questions about the young boy.
"And you've met my spouse?" Mr Wainwright directed Martin's attention to Avery.
"Oh... yes... hello again," Martin replied.
Martin had met Avery a moment ago but had not known Mr Wainwright and Avery were married. Martin hadn't known Mr Wainwright was married at all, thought the ring on the third finger of his left hand should have been a giveaway.
"Hello, dear," Avery crooned while waving with their long fingers wiggling in the air.
"Miles took up modelling last year," Mr Wainwright explained. "And he posed for his first nude drawing class a few months ago."
Miles blushed at the mention of his nudity.
"What was that like?" Martin asked the teenager.
"It was... cool, I guess," Miles admitted. "I liked it. It was embarrassing at first, but really fun."
"Martin is a colleague of mine..." Mr Wainwright revealed casually.
This was information he had not shared with Miles before because he wanted to use the revelation to incrementally mortify Martin.
"A colleague? You're a teacher?" Miles asked Martin.
"Yes," Martin admitted.
"I thought you were a model?" Miles asked.
"He is. Martin has very much modelled, haven't you?" Mr Wainwright posed the question.
"Yes," Martin agreed.
With the ice broken, Mr Wainwright launched into what his intentions were for the day. As much as he wanted the pair to bond, he didn't want either one of them revealing things about themselves too soon and ruining any surprises.
"Ok, let's get started," Mr Wainwright decided. "I'll take care of the photography to see what you two look like together. Try to ignore the clicking of the camera but listen to my directions."
Martin knew Mr Wainwright well enough to know those directions would be a litany of thinly veiled seedy comments and derisions.
"Avery will direct things on film but try not to look into their camera either," Mr Wainwright said.
Marcus Wainwright had an eye for photography but when it came to film, Avery had the upper hand. Mr Wainwright's spouse stood back to set up their camera while Mr Wainwright picked up his own camera and looked into the view finder.
"You can both take off your jackets and blazers," Mr Wainwright instructed while snapping a few testing shots.
Once Martin and Miles were in their shirtsleeves, the real fun began.
"Martin, I want you to take off Miles's clothes," Mr Wainwright said.
THE WHOLE NINE INCHES
Miles was quite happy with this arrangement. Both models knew nudity would be involved but having someone else take his clothes off felt intimate and salacious and new. Ironically, Martin was more nervous about it – stripping the boy didn't make him feel empowered. He felt wicked.
Martin stepped forward and reached for Miles's collar. The first of many clicks from Mr Wainwright's camera captured the frozen moment as Martin unknotted Miles' tie and pulled it away while Avery's camera caught the motion of Martin's nervous hands. Martin unbuttoned Miles' shirt one button at a time from top to bottom and when the white shirt fell open it revealed a sweet, boyish chest with a muscular physique asserting itself.
Martin could see Miles was almost hairless but while Martin himself wasn't particularly hairy, he wasn't as smooth as this. Martin guessed Martin shaved for aesthetic reasons. To look younger probably. Martin pushed the shirt from Mile's shoulders...
"Slowly," Mr Wainwright said.
And as it slipped off those shoulders, Martin's arms slid from the shirtsleeves. The crisp, white shirt landed in a pool at Martin's heels. Martin's nipples were small, brown buttons on otherwise creamy skin that had raised gooseflesh highlighting the almost invisible hairs on his chest and abdomen.
"Open his trousers," Avery said.
Avery got into position to record Miles at a 10 o'clock angle with Martin on Miles's right hand side. Mr Wainwright knelt down for an upshot at the same time as Martin leaned forward to grasp Miles's waistband. The man unfastened the boy's trousers and slid the zipper down slowly. The room remained quiet but for an occasional prompt, the click of Mr Wainwright's camera and the sound of excited/ nervous breathing.
"Socks," Avery almost whispered.
Martin had to kneel for this and Miles idly imagined the man sucking his cock. Or trying to suck his cock – it was, after all, enormous. Miles smiled more than he intended to as he lifted each foot for the man to remove his socks, leaving Miles barefoot.
"Pull Miles' school trousers down, Martin," Mr Wainwright directed.
The man wanted to remind Martin what he was doing; he was taking off a boy's school uniform.
Mr Wainwright was still capturing pictures from various angles and he moved with grace around Avery who almost glided around the floor. Each avoided blocking the other's view or inserting themselves into the frame of the other's artwork.
Martin reached up and tugged the school trousers down. Martin's legs were thin and almost hairless but for downy, fair hair that was almost invisible against his fair skin. As the trousers descended, Miles's special underwear was revealed to be a sky blue thong. Mr Wainwright took delight in photographing it and knowing that Martin hadn't see the teenager's perfect cheeks yet.
What Martin had seen was a sizable lump inside the very tightly packed pouch. The protuberance pushed the waistband down to hint at very short pubes above an impressive dick. Martin was beginning to realise, once again, just how complete his humiliation was going be.
The big dicked teenager compared to his tiny, dinky, little dick.
Martin should have known something like this was going to happen.
Naively, Martin had seen the petite boy and assumed... well, he hadn't assumed anything. He just hadn't thought the lad would be so well endowed.
Martin helped the boy step out of his trousers as he contemplated what was about to happen and acknowledged 1) that Miles probably trimmed or shaved his pubes too, and 2) Miles had a very big willy!
Martin's hand had brushed against Miles's silky legs as the removed the trousers and it was a very pleasant, warm and soft flesh beneath his fingers.
"Turn around, Miles," said Mr Wainwright.
Miles turned and Martin found himself face to face with two pert, petite, globes of pulchritude. A string of fabric was pressed into the crack between the cheeks of Miles's buttocks. Miles was a beauty from behind – his back popped with his shoulder blades and vertebrae, his ass was tight and cute and his legs were long and gently curved.
"Take Miles' thong off, Martin," Mr Wainwright prompted.
Martin reached up for the waistband and felt Miles's hot skin again. As he eased the underwear down, the back view hardly changed except now Martin could see the perfectly smooth crack between the boy's butt cheeks. The thong dropped to the floor and Miles stepped out of it.
Martin gasped as Miles' feet lifted out of the thong. Martin gasped because, when Miles' thighs parted, he had caught sight of what was between Miles' legs. It made Mr Wainwright and Avery smile because they knew the best was yet to come. Miles stood with his legs slightly parted so his balls and dick dangled symmetrically and could be seen from behind between his velvety thighs.
Miles was totally exposed now and he tried not to look at Mr Wainwright's camera nor the recording being made by Avery but they could see his dick! Miles was naked with three men, fully dressed, all looking at him.
"If you feel uncomfortable at any time, Miles, just tell me," Mr Wainwright said gently.
"Ok," Miles replied and he sounded very young.
"Martin, kiss Miles's cheeks," Mr Wainwright said.
Martin knew he didn't mean Miles' face. He was still kneeling and leaned forward to kiss each cheek and without further prompting, he continued. Martin put his hands on Miles's hips and kissed each arse cheeks with wet, pursed lips. Gradually, Martin started to use his tongue, dragging it across the clean skin perfumed with teenage spirit and bodywash. Martin's tongue stuck out as he slipped it into the crack of Miles's ass and wiggled it around. The tip of Martin's tongue dragged up and down the crevice, but didn't part the cheeks. Martin merely licked the available cleft.
"Deeper," Avery said.
Martin was now caressing Miles's legs as his tongue probed deeper into the crevice until he was scraping the (thankfully clean) divide between the two arse cheeks.
"Part them," Avery said.
The snapping of pictures had already recorded every moment but it was on film that Martin was witnessed to peeling Miles's butt cheeks apart to reveal a beautiful, hairless, pink ring. The fifteen year old held his breath as he felt Martin's tongue licking his hole.
Miles couldn't believe the feeling of a tongue on his ass. Not just on his ass... in it... Miles could feel the rim of his hole being probed by a tongue. It was only nervousness that stopped Miles getting hard for now.
A fully grown, fully dressed, man was rimming him!
Martin made a loud and theatrical job of kissing, licking and probing the hole – making a good show of it so Mr Wainwright wouldn't have the satisfaction of ordering a more grotesque display.
"Look between Miles's legs, Martin," Mr Wainwright said once he was satisfied with the show.
Martin obeyed, touching the outside of Miles's thighs as he dropped his head to look between the thighs. The dick and balls dangling between them was floppy and mortifyingly big.
"Turn around now, Miles," Mr Wainwright added.
Martin's hands dropped as Miles turned and Martin came face to face with six inches of almost-soft cock. It wasn't even a cock yet! Cocks are hard! This was a penis, a willy, a dick. As Martin expected, the pubic hair was trimmed short but not shaved.
Martin was very impressed by the undressed boy.
"Stuff your face in it," Mr Wainwright said.
Martin looked up at Miles and a boyish grin spread across his face. Martin took this as continued consent so he buried his nose in the pubic hairs, his lips touching the root of the dick. As Martin truffled his way down the genitals, he sniffed the moist hair and kissed the soft shaft of the penis. How could this boy be so big and not be hard?
Martin dipped his face under the dick so he could kiss Miles' balls while the penis dragged across his face. Finally, this was all too much and Miles started to get hard. Martin could feel the penis getting firmer, hotter and longer. Martin pulled back to witness the cock of the pretty teenager grow to an enormous nine inches.
When Martin was eighteen, he always dreamed of having a big cock so he envied the boy. Meanwhile, Mr Wainwright did not fail to notice that Miles was even bigger than he was three months ago.
"Martin, stand up," Mr Wainwright directed. "Miles, put your hands on your head."
Standing tall, Martin could now view the boy in all his glory – his cock was fully hard and his chest was on display and his pits were exposed too. The hair inside was short and downy. Had the boy shaved or trimmed everywhere?
"Suck his nipples," Mr Wainwright demanded.
Mr Wainwright proceeded to photograph Martin as the man suckled on the small, smooth teats of a big dicked teenage boy. Mr Wainwright took great pleasure in Martin's ignorance.
"And now kiss Miles' lips," Avery said.
The pair seemed in sync about how to choreograph the seminal moments. Martin and Miles, face to face, eye to eye was a special moment. Martin leaned in and tilted his head and when their lips touched, Miles closed his eyes. The kissing of the naked boy and the dressed man continued for a few minutes before they were told to stop.
"Hold Miles's erection in your hand and then stroke it," Mr Wainwright said.
Martin obeyed – motivated by jealousy and curiosity about what suck a massive dick would feel like. Nine inches of stroking was an enormous effort; indeed, Martin grabbed the fat, heavy fucker in both hands and stroked it by pulling and pushing.
"Oh fuck," Martin said and he was literally breathless with exertion.
"Later," Avery purred.
Martin let go of the cock and it just bobbed there. The one, oozing eye of the giant prick gazed at Martin. Martin felt humiliated already. He was fully clothed, so why was he more embarrassed by this modelling experience than the naked model?
"Martin, why don't you kiss it?" Mr Wainwright suggested.
It was offered as a suggestion as if Martin had any power in this scenario. He leaned forward and kissed it. The head was hard, moist and sweet.
"More," Mr Wainwright said.
Martin did it again, this time ensuring his kisses to the head of the magnificent cock were loud, wet and with pursed lips and a flicker of tongue. Miles trembled as his cock was practically sucked. Miles had never had a blowjob before and as much as he wished his first one wasn't on camera, it felt great to be kissed down there.
Martin's lips were now spread so greatly across the exposed head of Miles's nine inch cock that he was almost sucking the head. The head of Miles's cock alone was 4.5cm (1.8 inches) which was more than half the size of Martin's fully erect penis.
"I think if you're going to suck Miles's cock, you should get naked too," Mr Wainwright said.
Martin had been dreading this and Mr Wainwright took pictures as the dismay spread across his face.
"Come on, Martin," Avery cooed.
Martin was about to expose his puny cock to a boy with the biggest erection he'd ever seen. Mr Wainwright couldn't wait to tell Martin how old the boy is; he couldn't wait for Miles to see Martin's pathetic penis.
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My stories so far:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#jforrester
Complete series: School Exhibitionism, The Symposium, The Embarrassment of Riches, Do As You're Told, A Series of Embarrassing Events, and Noah the Embarrassed Nudist.
Also: Anthology, and The SEX Men.
Short stories: Aiden's Accidental Autoerotic Assignment, Jogging Joe's Jaunty Journey and Peter's Past Posing Pictures.