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 08: The Extra Miles Part One, Statue of Duplications
MAY 2024
DELIVERY
Miles couldn't stop looking at it. He was lying on his bed after school on Friday afternoon and looking at himself. The picture had been taken during a photoshoot on Monday and Mr Wainwright had obligingly sent him a copy. Miles touched the screen of his iPad and zoomed in.
The head of his cock bulged between the numbers 22 and 23 on the centimetre scale (9 inches on the opposite side of the ruler). Miles reached for his groin, rubbing his dick through his trousers and underwear. He hadn't got undressed yet but he was looking forward to playing with himself.
Was it vein to jerk off while looking at pictures of himself?
Miles zoomed out and looked at the full picture again. Miles was kneeling on a bed and he was naked. His black uniform trousers, shirt and school tie were strewn around him. Miles's ass wasn't quite touching the surface of the bed so his knees pressed into the mattress and smooth thighs arose from the bed. Miles's calves were beside him in a Y shaped from his upper body and thus revealed his bare, hairless legs and added to his boyish appeal. Between his thighs, peppered with occasional sprigs of fair hair that were almost invisible, was a pair of bulging, cum-filled balls. Miles's testicles had a wispy spray of hairs ejecting from them like the head of a dandelion.
Miles's abdomen and torso were equally bare and bald with his nipples making his chest symmetrical with little pink-brown spheres with an erect tip in the middle of them. Miles's right arm was raised all the way behind his head, his bicep just behind his ear and his forearm resting on the back of his head. The exposed armpit was a filled with a stingy, pubescent spray of feathery hairs.
The position of his arm ensured his face was unobscured and guaranteed there would be no ambiguity about his identity as the owner of the large tumescence between his legs. Besides which, Miles was looking directly into the camera. The angle of the photo was from Miles's 2 o'clock but by far the most eye-catching detail was not his knees or his legs, his big balls or the shadowed taint beneath them; it wasn't his thin tummy or flat chest or his nips; it wasn't his armpit or his sweet face, kissable lips, long eyelashes or even his wide, beautiful eyes.
The most eye catching detail was Miles's massive cock.
The second most eye catching detail was that Miles was pressing that cock down with his thumb and beneath it holding a ruler. The ruler ran along the underside of his shaft and was held in place by the fingers of his left hand; it was on the scale that the true size of Miles's enormous boyhood was revealed as 22.5cm (a whopping 9 inches).
The exposing, heart pounding (not to mention ass pounding) detail of the picture had made Miles hard. He placed his iPad beside him on the bed and lifted his feet to pull off his socks. He unknotted his school tie and pulled it out of the collar before discarding it. Miles unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt and then leaned forward to tug it from his trousers and lift it over his head. This two was haphazardly thrown away. The last things to take off were his trousers and underwear. He unbuttoned and unzipped and then pushed both down, pulling his legs and feet out by pumping them from the trouser legs like he was on a leg press machine.
Naked, Miles now had complete access to his cock. It was already bloated to seven inches and when the fifteen year old grasped the almost hard dick, he rubbed it with tight swipes. He only needed to stroke the top few inches of the shaft to make himself totally hard and once he was hard, those top two inches became the top four inches.
The well-endowed boy picked up the iPad to look at the picture again. Mr Wainwright had taken it on Monday after school as part of a well-paying school themed photoshoot. Miles never asked where Mr Wainwright was selling the pictures nor for how much, his only interest was being compensated for his time and exposure and he took on trust that Mr Wainwright would pay him fairly. Miles was just getting into a rhythm with a leak of clear and watery precum lubricating the spongy head when the doorbell rang.
"Fuck," Miles muttered.
Miles laid the iPad aside again and hopped off the bed but the doorbell was already ringing again. Miles grabbed a towel from his laundry basket and rushed to his bedroom door. He was already in the upstairs hall and trying to make himself decent when he realised he had only a hand towel. The doorbell was impatient, so he decided to go with it. Miles wrapped the towel around his waist and tied it in a single knot. It was low on his hips to expose an expanse of creamy, smooth skin and only reached the middle of his thighs so most of his silky, milky legs were on show too. There was also a slit on his right thigh below where the knot was that exposed even more of his thigh.
Miles rushed down the stairs and the person on the doorstep must have seen him through the glass of the front door. They had started to turn as if giving up, so Miles suspected he was about to leave. Miles opened the front door wide and leaned against the edge of the door with his right arm up which exposed his boyish pit.
The delivery lad on the doorstep suddenly seemed less impatient.
"Delivery for Beaumont?" the young man said.
The delivery lad was about twenty one – tall with shaggy hair and brown eyes.
"Yes," Miles said. "Thanks, I'll take it."
The delivery lad hesitated.
"Actually, you should have gotten a code by email?" the young man said. "They do that now for expensive items."
Miles realised what the item was – a gift for his dad's birthday. Miles has splashed out with his savings from modelling.
"Sure. My phone is upstairs I think," Miles said as he distractedly tugged on one of nipples.
"I'll wait," the delivery lad replied.
Miles turned and hurried back upstairs. The delivery lad watched Miles go; watching the boy's lovely legs as the pumped up the stairs, rustling the towel around his little ass. The lad on the doorstep decided that Miles had a nice back, sweet ass legs and also a sweet ass. Miles's thighs and lower legs were smooth and the boy had a thin tummy with an oval bellybutton. The young man had a thing for belly buttons and nipples. However, Miles also had nice everything.
Miles was coming back downstairs now and the delivery lad took the opportunity to watch the way the towel lifted as the boy came downstairs. Was that pretty little fucker naked under there?
"I couldn't find my phone but I have my iPad," Miles said.
Miles sat the iPad in front of a digital photo frame that was on a table beside the open front door. The delivery lad dared to step inside the hall, a little closer to Miles as he woke up iPad that was standing upright as he entered his passcode. The delivery lad glanced away while Miles entered his code but looked back as the distinctive click announced the device was unlocked. The young man looked at the screen and his mouth fell open.
On screen was a naked picture of the boy. His legs, belly button, nips and face were all clearly displayed but so were his balls and his enormous cock. His absolutely abnormally big cock. Was that a ruler underneath it.
"Sorry. Sorry sorry sorry," Miles said as he got rid of the picture.
Miles lifted the iPad as he blushed with embarrassment. He really hadn't meant to show a total stranger that picture. Fuck!
"That's ok. That's quite a picture," the delivery lad commented.
Miles blushed some more and looked at the handsome young man then looked back that the device and opened his emails.
"The security code is 8472," Miles said sheepishly.
The delivery lad had almost forgotten why he was there; seeing the boy in nothing but a small towel followed by the accidental exposure of his nude pic had distracted the young man. He looked at Miles, who was incredibly tasty, and had a sudden idea.
"Actually, I need to see the code for myself... may I?" the delivery lad asked.
He put out his hand for the iPad and Miles handed it over. The delivery lad gave it nothing more than a cursory glance before doing exactly what Miles thought he would. Though Miles couldn't see the screen the reaction on the young man's face made it clear he was looking at the picture again.
The delivery lad looked at the image of the boy and looked at the scale on the ruler.
Nine! Fucking! Inches!
The young man scrolled to another picture and then another. There were several nudes and a few funny memes. Then there was a video.
The delivery lad lifted his eyes and smiled at Miles.
"The code might be in the Photos app," Miles said because he knew the young man was looking at the pictures.
The delivery lad looked back at the screen and pressed play.
The clip was only 20 seconds long and had been cut from a longer video. Miles was masturbating, a wet noise issuing from the speaker as the boy pleasured himself. Miles was sitting on a bed with his legs spread open; the camera looked between his legs to capture everything from the soles of his bare feet to the hairless taint between his velvety legs. Miles's upper body was propped up by his left arm so his chest was reclining back slightly and there was a sneak peek and the meagre scrub inside his armpit.
Miles was jacking his big dick – his massive cock – while looking alternately between his penis and the camera. At 08 seconds Miles sighed and started to cum; Miles leaned over his cock so it shot up and into his face once and then a second time. Miles leaned back again, a blob of his own jizz dripping from his eyebrow and he licked another blob from his top lip. Miles continued to cum for a few more seconds while he squeezed out every drop. At 17 seconds Miles looked directly into the camera and smiled with his giant cock gripped near his balls so more than five inches of fuck stick ejected from the top of his hand. At 20 seconds, the clip stopped.
"Yea. Yup. Ok..." the delivery lad said after a few more seconds and handed the iPad back. "I got what I needed."
Miles smiled – he could tell the young man had liked what he saw. Miles was still nearly naked – only the small towel around his waist protected his modesty. The embarrassment of accidentally showing a stranger his nude pic had evaporated and now Miles was excited. He wanted to push his luck.
The delivery lad handed over Miles's parcel – it was a medium sized box that Miles accepted in his right arm, holding it in the crook like a rugby ball.
"Don't you need to take a photo?" Miles suggested. "As proof of delivery?"
The delivery lad looked at Miles for a long moment and wasn't sure how to answer. The beautiful, cocky, flirtatious little fucker was inviting him to take a picture?
"Yea, of course," the delivery lad replied.
The young man pulled out his personal phone and stepped back as he turned on the camera so he could get as much of Miles into the frame as possible. Everything from Miles's head to his knees was in the picture which was taken with the electronic sound of a camera shutter.
Miles had been holding the parcel in his right arm but his left was at his side, just beside the knot of the towel. Emboldened, Miles twisted his fingers on the knot and it released – the towel dropped to Miles's feet and Miles gasped as if it had been accidental. He placed his left hand over his flaccid penis but kept his fingers open so it and his testicles could be seen by the delivery lad who looked Miles in the eye and then took another picture.
"I don't think the picture is working," the lad said. "I'll try video."
"Ok," Miles said nervously.
"Are you Miles Beaumont?" the delivery lad asked as he recorded the naked boy with nothing but a hand (more or less) covering his genitals.
"Yes, I'm Miles Beaumont..." Miles replied and then he moved his hand to expose his five and a half inch flaccid penis. "77 Stirling Road, Chase Foundling, Coldcastle, England."
"Fuck," the young man said as the video recorded the Miles's words and his exposed boyhood.
"Don't put that online, I'm only fifteen," Miles said.
Miles stepped back and closed the door on the astonished face of the delivery lad. It was only as he started upstairs that it sunk in he had truly exposed himself to who knew who (though the delivery lad might very well keep it only to himself). The intensity of the exposure was so exciting that Miles needed a cold shower to calm himself – dousing himself in cool water instead of his own cum.
EXHIBITION
The interruption by the delivery lad was a blessing in disguise. While Miles had been keen to masturbate, he was trying not to cum. Mr Wainwright had casually suggested abstinence after recording him cum on Monday; Miles hadn't been sure why Mr Wainwright suggested it until the man added a casual follow-up comment.
"At least until we go to Chase and Found on Saturday," Mr Wainwright said.
CHASE & FOUND Art Gallery & Studio (the name was a play on the town name of Chase Foundling) was a local studio that offered art classes and sculpting lessons as well as hosting small exhibitions. It was run by a man named Hank and his nephew Wilbur. Miles had met the pair during his first time modelling naked. When they had seen him in all his glory, they had persuaded Miles to be photographed.
The photos weren't just to add to the growing portfolio of men who wanted naked images of him; their camera calculated measurements that could be used to digitally recreate objects. Their proposal was to 3D print a sculpture of Miles.
That was in January and now it was May.
Miles didn't know what the artists had made of Miles's pictures or what the sculpture would be like but Mr Wainwright's suggestion not to masturbate for five days suggested he was expecting something special.
Thus, after exposing himself to the delivery guy, Miles took a shower and prepared dinner before his dad got home. The evening was quiet and boring – homework, TV and social media before it was time for bed. Miles slept fitfully - too excited to find out what the sculpture based on him was going to look like.
It was late on Saturday morning and Miles had chosen a pink an orange vest that was too big for him, orange and red shorts, and flip flops. It was the start of a long weekend, Monday being a public holiday, so the buses were busy as he made his way towards the town centre. It was a warm and sunny day though and Miles was pleased by the hot touch on his exposed skin. His arms looked long and a few years ago he looked like a weedy kid but his biceps and torso had developed nicely to give him a twink-leaning twunk physique. The scoop under the arms exposed his pits and ribs and occasionally a nipple. The neckline revealed his hairless chest. His legs looked even longer in the short orange shorts and combined with the flipflops with otherwise bare feet, Miles looked like he was headed to the beach instead of an art gallery.
Chase and Found Art Gallery and Studio was a ten minute walk from the very centre of town, tucked away on Changeling Street. Miles reached the door and pushed his way inside. Straight ahead was a reception desk with a door behind it on either side. To the left and right on the perpendicular walls there were also doors; the one on the left read "TOILETS" and the one on the right read "STAFF ONLY". A receptionist looked up and raised his eyebrow at the boy who had just entered.
"Good morning, how can I help you?" the young man asked.
There was a polite but artificial smile on his face because he was wondering why a boy dressed for the beach was walking into the gallery on such a nice day. Shouldn't he be out playing with his friends?
"Hi, I'm Miles Beaumont," Miles said. "I think I'm expected."
"Oh yes? You're Miles?" the young man said and a look of recognition suddenly crossed his face. "Of course you are."
The young man lifted a phone and reported Miles arrival. He didn't even have the chance to sit down before Wilbur arrived in the reception area.
"Hello Miles," Wilbur said. "Oh, you've gone for a very casual look."
"Yea... sorry... should I have worn something nice?" Miles asked.
It hadn't even occurred to him to dress up.
"No, I'm sure it'll be fine," the young man responded with a smile twitching at the side of his face.
Wilbur led Miles to a door on the right hand side of the reception. The door on the left, Miles had noticed, had a sign reading "STUDIO & WORKSHOP" while the one they pushed through was for "GALLERY".
The gallery was a large atrium divided by partitions with artworks on both sides – sketches and charcoal renderings, watercolours, oil and acrylics featured a variety of styles and themes. There were landscapes and impressionist attempts that didn't impress Miles. There were portraits too and a few nudes.
"How have you been, Miles?" Wilbur asked.
"Great thanks. How's business?" Miles asked, unsure what to ask the young man.
"Work has been brilliant. Working on you has been a wonderful challenge," Wilbur admitted.
"Oh," Miles replied.
"Challenging in a good way. A very good way. Uncle Hank and I have been working on it for months," Wilbur said.
"It," was in the centre of an open space that had been cleared for the special purpose of displaying the sculpture which was covered by a sheet.
"Hello again, Miles," said a bright voice that belonged to Hank. "I see you've gone for a very casual look today."
"That's what I said," Wilbur said.
"That's what he said," Miles replied at the same time.
"Well, not to worry," Hank said in an unperturbed tone. "Did Marcus come with you? Mr Wainwright, I mean?"
"No, I thought we were meeting here," Miles replied.
"I'm sure you are. Why don't you take a look," Wilbur gestured towards the sculpture.
"Ok," Miles answered nervously.
Miles approached the sculpture which was only came up to the height of Miles's nipples - about 1.25 metres tall. Miles discovered why it was so short as soon as he pulled the sheet off. The sculpture of him was sitting down.
More importantly, the figure was absolutely outstanding. Miles had never seen anything like it. It would have been vain to say it was beautiful given it was a replica of himself but... it was beautiful. In fact, it was uncanny. The statue looked like an exact duplicate of Miles.
The texture and colour of his hair, the fairness of his skin, the brown-pink ovals of his nipples, the elliptical shape of his bellybutton... His face! The model had his face, his pink lips, his eyes...
"We made the model using a variety of techniques," Wilbur said enthusiastically. "The core is made out of a polymer and plastic composite; that's the torso, arms and legs, the head. Then we pulled a series of silicon sheaths to made the skin."
The skin of the sculpture was like a glove. A Miles glove.
"Touch it," Hank encouraged Miles.
Miles reached out and prodded his own cheek. It yielded and sprang back when he pulled his finger away. Pressing harder, Miles could feel the heavier plastic skeleton underneath. Miles stroked the arm and lifted one of the fingers. The hands of the figure were resting on its thighs with the fingertips almost touching its knees. The finger sprang up.
Miles subconsciously realised he had identified the sculpture as an it rather than a him, but the pronouns of a sculpture were unlikely to be controversial.
"The digits don't have a plastic frame inside them," Hank revealed.
Miles had been so distracted by the uncanny valley that he hadn't taken a proper look at his genitals... well... not his genitals, the sculpture's genitals. The figure's thighs were more hairless than Miles's though "hairy" details had been painted on. However, above the penis there was little more than an allusion to puberty. The testicles were a smooth, brownish sac with great care taken to make one side of the scrotum sag lower than the other.
"We made its testicles symmetrical; do you see?" Wilbur emphasised.
"Yes, I see that," Miles replied.
"It makes them look more real," Wilbur added. "So do the perineal and penile raphe. That's the brown line in the middle of the testicles and the penis."
"Yea... about the penis..." Miles said.
He'd been looking at it for several minutes now.
"Yes?" Hank said and he tried to hide the smile from his voice.
"Why is it so small?" Miles asked.
The sculpture was an impressive, immaculate, meticulous and faithful recreation except for one detail. The flaccid penis sitting between his legs was only about three inches long. It made him look like a little boy.
"It is average, Miles," Wilbur replied.
"The exact measurements we took when we photographed you were used as a guide but it just didn't look right on the model," Hank said.
"We scaled down your impressive endowment to fit the sculpture better," Wilbur said. "You'll like this though..."
Wilbur was about to reveal more but they were interrupted.
"Good afternoon everyone," Mr Wainwright said. "Miles, you look very..."
"Casual, I know," Miles said with a smile.
"I was going to say summery," Mr Wainwright lied. "You're showing a lot of skin."
"You know me," Miles said.
"Miles has come along very nicely," Mr Wainwright asserted and then he turned back to Miles. "Oh, and you too."
The sculpture/ Miles joke caused some polite chuckles.
"Miles was just asking about the endowment of his facsimile," Hank told Mr Wainwright.
"It's nearly as big a Martin fully erect," Mr Wainwright joked.
Miles sniggered despite thinking it was a mean joke.
"Who?" asked Hank and Wilbur.
"Never mind," Mr Wainwright said and he shared the private joke with Miles.
Miles stepped forward and touched his penis; that is, the penis of the sculpture. It was soft but firm. It had been moulded with his foreskin covering the head of his penis but the foreskin was open to reveal the pink slit. The head of the penis bulged inside the foreskin to add and detail to the limp boyhood.
"I was actually just about to show Miles a particularly fun feature," Wilbur explained.
Wilbur stepped forward and Miles stepped aside so the young man could reach between his legs... between the legs of the figure. Wilbur placed his hand flat on the surface that the model was sitting on with his palm facing up and then he slipped his fore fingers underneath the scrotum. His thumb folded over the top of the boy's penis and then he squeezed his digits together.
Miles hoped he wasn't being given a demonstration of CBT because he really wasn't into that sort of thing. However, there was a soft click and Wilbur pulled hard on the dick (he wished) until it came off. The sculpture of Miles was left with no penis or testicles.
"You pulled me off?" Miles joked.
Hank and Mr Wainwright laughed and so did Wilbur but he also looked at Miles with a very warm and affectionate smile. He appreciated the joke. Wilbur crouched down and slid open a compartment in the base that the sculpture was sitting on. He placed the flaccid penis inside and pulled out another dick and balls.
This penis was erect and approximately six inches long.
Wilbur stood up to attach the new dick which stood at a 45 degree angle. The skin tone was remarkable, the head fully exposed and it looked pliable like a dildo.
"I don't want to make a big deal out of this..." Miles said.
"Pun intended?" Mr Wainwright asked.
"Yes," Miles replied.
"Good one," Mr Wainwright congratulated.
"But again," Miles continued. "Why is it so sma... not big?"
"It didn't look right. In reality, you're nearly nine inches and you look stunning," Wilbur complimented. "But on the sculpture it looked ridiculous."
"I actually am nine inches now," Miles couldn't resist boasting.
"Wow!" Wilbur said.
"Can I take a picture of you with the Extra Miles?" Mr Wainwright asked.
Being photographed, Mr Wainwright had discovered, was something Miles really enjoyed. The boy's transition from being drawn to being photographed or recorded had been a gamechanger.
"Oh sure," Miles agreed enthusiastically.
"Why don't I put the flaccid one back on for now?" Wilbur suggested.
Wilbur suggested this not because he had an aversion to seeing Miles with the erect sculpture but because a nude Miles with a small penis had an aesthetic appeal. He suspected the hard-on would be reattached very soon but the swap back was done in a matter of seconds.
Miles stood beside the figure; his bare legs pressed against the side of the box that the sculpture was sitting on. Miles leaned over to put an arm around its shoulder and smiled for Mr Wainwright's camera. Mr Wainwright was pleased because one version of Miles was a bare naked boy with a boy-sized penis and the other was a real life twin who's chest was on show as he leaned forward.
The looseness of Miles's vest meant the scoop of the neckline fell open to expose Miles' hairless chest. In for a penny, Mr Wainwright decided to see how far Miles would go.
"How about a shirtless picture, Miles?" Mr Wainwright suggested.
"Ok," Miles agreed nonchalantly.
Miles whipped his vest off and tossed it to Wilbur but without prompting the throw, it hit Wilbur in the face and gave the nineteen year old a whiff of teenage boy scents.
Miles squatted to the height of his doppelganger this time and with his hands on his knees and arms bent, there was a hint of his lovely armpits pulled into the shot. Miles was asked to do a few more poses with his top off including kneeing between the feet of the sculpture. The silicone skin of the statue were soft when he touched them.
"How about a few with my shorts off too?" Miles suggested.
"Oh, only if you want to," Mr Wainwright replied as if the idea had never even occurred to him.
Miles beamed and pushed his shorts down with more force than he meant to. The elastic waistband also tugged his briefs down to reveal his short pubes. Pulling the shorts off, Miles bent down and took the sandals off too and then passed them to Wilbur.
Miles was now posing in just sky blue briefs beside the naked recreation of himself. Miles didn't mind the attention of Hank and Wilbur or the clicking of the camera as Mr Wainwright pictured him – of course he enjoyed the artistry of photography.
Miles managed to sit alongside the figure of himself his right hip against the soft silicone of the statue and his left foot on the ground to support him. It only took a few pictures before Miles decided he was going to go all the way.
Miles stood up again and pushed his briefs down.
"Miles... this is a gallery..." Hank said half-heartedly.
"It's an art gallery, uncle. We've had exhibitions before," Wilbur pointed out.
"Ha, exhibition," Mr Wainwright chuckled. "Pun intended?"
"Maybe," Wilbur grinned.
Wilbur was then hit in the face by flying underpants. They landed on the top of the pile and he bent his head over to give them an experimental sniff.
"Where do you want me?" Miles asked.
Wilbur resisted telling the boy where he wanted him. Mr Wainwright and Hank weren't attracted to teenage boys but both appreciated Miles's clear aesthetic appeal.
"Miles, the gallery is open now," Hank pointed out. "Today is the day we reveal the new sculpture. We've invited the man who financed it."
"Yea, he's a rich motherfu-" Wilbur started to say.
"Please don't!" Hank admonished his nephew for being disrespectful.
"Sorry Hank," Wilbur said but he didn't mean it. "He's a very wealthy patron."
"Why would a man want a sculpture of me?" Miles asked.
"I'll tell you when you're older," Wilbur joked in response.
"He bought it for one of his sons, actually. He's a very rich mortherfucker, but he co-financed it with the gallery and then bought it outright for a small fortune," Hank admitted.
"Miles, why don't you sit on your knee," Mr Wainwright suggested.
The Art teacher wanted to bring Miles's attention back to the room. Miles obeyed, sitting on the sculptures left knee with his own legs between the legs of the sculpture. The fact that Miles's flaccid penis was five and a half inches compared to the three inches of the figure created a point of diversion. The uncanny likeness stopped between the legs. Miles took on several more poses, each time with Mr Wainwright directing him in such a way that he and his doppelganger's penis were in sight.
Miles unlocked from a pose that actually involved him covering his genitals while standing next to the uncovered, wide legged figure. Then Miles noticed Wilbur putting his clothes and sandals down. Wilbur approached the base that the statue was sitting on and opened the compartment again. Miles knew what was coming this time and everyone watched in silence as Wilbur reattached the six inch dildo to the figure.
"Kneel between the legs and put it to your lips," Mr Wainwright said.
"We really should stop this. Visitors could arrive at any moment," Hank said.
Miles found the risk of getting caught very exciting – exciting enough to override the fear of being caught. In fact the idea of being caught and of being exposed was an idea that had been haunting and tempting Miles for weeks.
"You created a statue with a dildo attachment, did it never occur to you someone might use it?" Miles asked as he knelt down.
Miles touched his lips to the facsimile phallus and Mr Wainwright took a close-up picture of Miles kissing a very realistic cock.
"It did occur to me," Hank admitted. "But I didn't imagine it would be you, I didn't think it would be today and I didn't think it would be a demonstration at 1PM on a holiday Saturday."
"You lack imagination," Miles teased the man with a glace and a cheeky wink.
"Do you think, Miles..." Mr Wainwright started to ask. "Do you think you'd like to use a dildo for its full purpose?"
GO FUCK YOURSELF
Miles looked at the man. A year ago, Marcus Wainwright was just a man who had helped Miles to find modelling jobs; mostly for local magazines and papers and art classes. For the last five months though, Mr Wainwright had been guiding Miles towards nude modelling and increased exposure. The fact that he had a nine inch cock had only accelerated interest in Miles Beaumont.
The first and only time Miles had had sex was with a man (Martin Williams) eleven years older than him and who's penis was just over three inches. In a way, fucking himself on a six inch dildo would be like popping his cherry again and he could have sex "for the first time" yet again when he met a man with a regular sized penis. Miles felt guilty for denigrating Mr Williams and implying his diminutive endowment was unworthy. Perhaps Miles was greedy for wanting, planning and enjoying so many losses of virginity.
"Do you want to take pictures of me sitting on the dildo, Mr Wainwright?" Miles asked.
"What a marvellous idea. Thank you for suggesting it," Mr Wainwright replied.
While Hank didn't intervene to stop it, he clearly wasn't sure it was a good idea. Wilbur meanwhile retrieved lube from the space inside the base. It was almost as if he had anticipated this.
Or... Miles had a sudden vision of the nineteen year old after the gallery was closed. Undressing. Standing naked before the naked Miles statue. Approaching it and having sex with it. Imagining himself with the real Miles.
Miles squirted lube onto his hand and then stroked the average dick of the statue. The silicone of the dildo was soft and squishy while the rigid core of the tumescence was firm. The 45 degree angle was able to articulate a little, which would made fucking himself on it easier.
Miles turned his back on himself, which was a shame because he liked looking at himself, and lowered his ass towards the tip of the dildo. It touched his cheeks, which spread and then the head of the dildo touched Miles's sphincter. Miles could hear Mr Wainwright taking closeups of his hole being penetrated and then wider shots of Miles getting his anus filled by the statue that could have been Miles' twin.
Miles dropped his ass lower and the dildo began to slide inside him. It was a nice feeling to have a decent shaft enter him. Having sex with Martin had been exciting and erotic but three and a half inches didn't go this deep. Miles reflected that he really was being unfair on Martin and judgemental too. The guilt displaced by the feeling of pleasure deep inside his ass.
Miles pulled up and then pushed back in, fucking himself on the dildo. The shaft entered Miles' ass and the teenager was able to take it all the way inside until he was almost sitting in the lap of the statue.
Miles' real dick had bloated from a floppy five and a half inches to a firm but bowed seven inches. As he got more turned on, his big dick got even hotter, harder and longer until it was at full mast: nine solid inches of boycock.
As Miles bounced up and down on the dildo, his nine inch boner windmilled. Swinging up and down and all around, he could put someone's eye out with that thing. Miles and everyone else were so engrossed that they didn't notice they had company. Three male spectators had arrived unobtrusively.
"What the fuck!"
"What the fuck?"
"Hello Hank."
Miles looked up to see a man and two boys. The teenagers were perhaps a year or two older than him and had an air of arrogance and entitlement. The man was even more haughty and superior.
"Oh, hello Mr Verge," Hank said nervously.
Hank wasn't sure how such an important and wealthy doner was going to take walking in on a boy fucking himself in the gallery. Especially since Miles was technically fucking himself with Mr Verge's property. The man looked at his sons and saw they were clearly enjoying themselves and as the statue was a gift for them, he relaxed.
"Wow! Look at the size of your cock," said the older boy. "I'm Morgan by the way. This is Monty."
Mr Verge made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl. "Monty" was actually named Montgomery and the man was of the opinion that his son should not lower himself to such a common nickname.
Morgan stepped forward and offered his hand to Miles.
Miles had no choice but to shake the hand of the seventeen or eighteen year old while he was still ploughing his hole on the dildo. Miles was naked, barefoot, sweaty, hard, almost hairless and fully penetrated; not to mention being photographed in a public exhibit. Even for a model who was used to being seen naked, Miles was mortified to be exposed like this to strangers.
"Wait, don't I recognise you?" Monty said.
Miles looked at the younger brother with wide eyes and realised he recognised Monty too. From a school football tournament at the end of Year 11.
"You go to Chase Foundling High School, right?" Monty said as he searched his brain. "Miles! That's it. You're Miles Beaumont."
"Eh..." Miles replied.
Miles had been recognised before – the first time he'd modelled nude. Recognised by the guy from Starbucks and another guy the local supermarket, by two teachers and even students from his school. Miles saw Brady and Alan every now and then but they'd never blabbed out what they'd seen. They'd never revealed Miles was an art model, a nude model or that he had a massive dick.
Monty was different – he was an arrogant upper-class boy from St. Mervyn Poshford's School who had a chip on his shoulder. Not to mention their respective schools had a rivalry.
"Holy fuck!" Monty exploded again.
"Language!" his dad cautioned.
"Wow, you're fucking beautiful," Monty ignored his dad. "Who knew a poor boy from a poor family could look so hot."
Monty danced closer to examine the thing that had caused the outburst. Monty couldn't believe a boy would disgrace himself like this, but on the other hand, if he had such a massive cock, he'd probably show it off like this too. Miles was naked and had a big cock and was riding a dildo but the dildo was attached to a model, a figure, a sculpture that looked just like him.
"Were you the model for this thing?" Morgan asked – having noticed the same thing Monty had.
"Ye- yes," Miles stuttered.
Miles was getting hot and sweaty, his bare feet slipping on the floor as he continued to fuck himself. Even caught, even in a precarious situation, Miles couldn't stop pleasuring himself.
"It's amazing," Monty said excitedly.
Monty reached over the naked boy and prodded the lips of the sculpture, caressed it's shoulder, pinched its soft and pliable nipple and stroked it's smooth tummy. With his hand down near the erection, Monty moved from the figure to the real thing, touching Miles's sacrum. Miles paused and looked over his shoulder at Monty. Monty's finger wiped through moist skin from the base of Miles's back and into the crack of his butt, coming to a stop where his finger soft hardness of the dildo. Monty didn't stop there though; he turned his hand so he could push that finger into Miles's hole alongside the dildo.
"Oh!" Miles gasped.
Miles's cock hopped and ejected a sticky, wet squirt of precum.
"Whoa, whatever you did, I think he liked it," Morgan said.
"Hank, can you explain why this naked boy is contaminating my property?" Mr Verge asked.
"Contaminating?" Mr Wainwright defended. "I'd suggest Miles have added to the value of the item."
"Defo," Monty agreed as his finger slid in and out beside the dildo, double fucking the teenager. "Knowing this little slut has fucked himself only makes me want it more," Monty said.
"Really?" Hank sounded surprised and a little disgusted.
Hank was an artists. He was a sculptor and owned a gallery. This tableau was beyond him.
"If you both say so," Mr Verge said with the tone of a man who would do anything to pacify his entitled offspring.
"That's the spirit," Wilbur encouraged.
"Why don't you carry on doing what you were doing?" Marcus suggested to Miles.
"Maybe I should stop now," Miles tried to get out of the spectacle.
"But Miles, I haven't seen you since the football game last September," Monty said as he pulled his finger out. "Chase Foundling High School won that game, I think. Not that I'd hold a grudge."
"Oh... yea..." Miles replied uncertainly.
"Say, do you still go to school with Gordon Holt and Izzy Jones?" Monty asked.
Gordon and Izzy were thick as thieves: they were pranksters, lackadaisical bullies and absolutely the worst people to find out about Miles modelling – especially like this. The threat was thinly veiled – to play along or Monty would tell on him.
"Yea, I do," Miles replied blushingly.
"I've known them for years. Small world that you'd go to the same school, right?" Monty smirked.
There was a short silence that was broken by Mr Wainwright who sense the tension.
"Miles, why don't you try a new position?" Mr Wainwright suggested. "Stand up."
Miles pulled himself off... which is to say he raised himself from the dildo and stood up on his sweaty feet and squeezed his ring closed while awaiting instructions. Standing tall, or as tall as a boy who is only 1.7m (five foot seven inches) tall. Sticking out in front of Miles was his massive cock, the moist and bulging head was at the end of a long shaft than dipped down because of the sheer size of the thing.
"Jerk it," Monty said because he wanted to watch Miles stroke the giant cock.
Miles grabbed it with both hands and stroked it at the root of his cock and nearer the head.
"Fuck, that thing is a beast!" Monty watched with awe.
"It's like your jerking off a baseball bat," Marcus added.
"Miles, turn around and face the statue," Mr Wainwright said. "Put your thighs on top of its and lower yourself back onto the dildo."
Mr Wainwright resumed his picture taking as Miles put his legs over so they draped over the model's thighs. Miles' thighs rested atop those of the figure with which Miles was very nearly chest to chest. Miles' sexual experience meant he had no words for the position commonly known as the lotus. The dildo was just behind the small of Miles's back. The boy lifted his ass a few inches and then reached behind to grip the dildo and guide it into position.
Miles rose and dropped a few times to push the dildo through the crack of his ass. Then he pressed deeper until the head of the phallus found his ring again and he pressed it back inside himself. It very much felt like he was having sex with himself or a twin. Miles slowly lowered himself onto the dildo until he was sitting in the lap of the statue with the dildo deep inside him.
Miles's own cock was still achingly hard and when he started to hump up and down, his cock flopped and waved. The head of his nine inch penis glanced against the soft fabricated skin of the statue. Miles reached up and put his hands on the shoulder of the sculpture as he fucked himself.
Mr Wainwright was still taking pictures from every angle which included a downward view between the two teenage bodies and into the lap of the boys. One of them (the statue of Miles) had no pubes and it's cock was obscured (because it was inside Miles) and the other (the real Miles) was presenting his massive dick for observation by anyone around and unfortunately that audience was about to get bigger...
END OF CHAPTER EIGHT
Next week is the final chapter in this series. I only intended this story to have three chapters, but now it's nine chapters and I'm planning another series of chapters for next year. I'll announce my next project at the end of the final chapter next week.
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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.