Image Is Everything

Chapter One

The shutter clicked and film whirled as photo after photo was recorded. Brian Kinney encouraged the models as he continued to snap their picture.

"Yeah, beautiful … great, lean in … pout, smile, look far away … great, better, more … that's it! … look over your shoulder, grin, wider … look amused … super, that's it … fabulous!"

The roll of film came to an end and so did the shoot.

"Thanks everyone. We should have some great shots. You all did a terrific job."

The three male models started to gather up their belongings.

"Guy," Brian said. One of the models turned to look at Brian. "I want to reshoot something with you. Could you stay an extra half hour?"

"Sure," Guy said with a little grin. "Go ahead without me, fellas. I'll take a cab."

The other two models headed out. As soon as the door closed behind the two, Brian locked it. He turned to stare at Guy.

"Take your clothes off," Brian ordered as he pulled his own sweater over his head.

"Yes, sir," Guy responded with a smirk.

He pulled off his shirt and was just stepping out of his pants when Brian was on him. He shoved the slender man into the change area at the back of the studio. They hit the wall with a thud as Brian leaned into the model pressing him against the wall. His lips found Guy's and kissed him until they were both weak in the knees. Brian still had his trousers on and he reached into the pocket to retrieve a condom and a tube of lube that he always kept there for just such emergencies.

He spun Guy around and pushed him against the wall. He squirted some lube on his fingers and pressed into Guy's pucker. The model yelled out at the sudden intrusion.

"Shut up," Brian ordered. "There are other people in the building."

"I can't help it," Guy moaned as Brian's fingers continued to work his ass. His hand grabbed his stiff cock and he began to work it up and down the shaft as his moans got louder.

Brian groaned too. He didn't know that Guy was so vocal. He had sized him up as a likely prospect to fuck as soon as he walked through the door of the studio. Who knew he was a budding opera star?

Brian dropped his pants and donned the condom. If his fingers had caused so much noise, he could hardly wait to hear what his cock would produce. He positioned the head at Guy's hole and drove in. The man screamed, "Fuck!" at the top of his lungs. His anus contracted around Brian's dick and he let out a roar that Brian was sure would wake the dead. He should have fucked him face on. That way he could have stopped his cries with kisses or with his hands around his fucking throat.

Brian pumped fast and hard. He was beginning to want this to be over as Guy's cries continued to fill the studio. Usually he didn't mind when his fuckees vocalized their pleasure, but this was way over the top.

Guy continued to jerk himself off as he called out his apparent pleasure. Brian thrust harder and deeper. He could feel their mutual orgasms building. His jabs became faster and Guy was babbling at the top of his lungs. Suddenly Guy jerked and shuddered as his orgasm took him over the edge. He spewed cum on the wall of the change room. His anus contracted around Brian's cock and that was enough to get Brian off too. Thank God! It was over.

Guy leaned against the wall as Brian pulled out and got rid of the condom. He hiked his trousers up and turned away.

"That was great, man," Guy said taking some deep breaths. "That's one of the best fucks I've ever had."

"Right," Brian said. "Here's your clothes," he added as he retrieved pieces of apparel and pitched them in Guy's direction. He wanted the model out of there.

"Want to grab some supper?" Guy asked as he pulled up his pants.

"No thanks, I'm busy."

"But … I thought maybe we could go again later."

"One fuck per customer," Brian said harshly.

"What a fucking asshole!" Guy reacted.

"Yeah, that's my middle name."

"Well, fuck you!" Guy said making his way to the door. "Don't expect me to ever work for you again."

"I'll try to survive without you," Brian said sarcastically.

"Shithead!" Guy yelled as he slammed the door behind him.

Brian grimaced as the window in the door shuddered but didn't break. "That went well," Brian said to the empty studio. "I should know better than to mix business and pleasure, especially when there is so little pleasure involved."

Brian adjusted his dick in his trousers wondering if he should hit the baths down the street before he went home for the night. Guy had done little more than get him all worked up and then get on his nerves. He could still use a decent fuck.

"Fuck it!" he exclaimed.

He would go develop some of his rolls of film, but first he needed to clean up Guy's fucking mess in the change room.  This was a place of business, after all, and customers and models alike used that change room. Wiping up the mess was not enjoyable, considering how little he had enjoyed his moment with Guy.

That mess finally taken care of, Brian decided he wanted to see the great shots that he thought he had captured from the shoot. He locked the door to the studio and went into his darkroom to begin the process.

The photos looked great as they began to appear in the solution. He hung them from the lines in the darkroom and surveyed them critically. Guy was a natural in front of the camera. As he studied the pictures his eye always found Guy. He was the star, the scene stealer, the one who drew your attention. There was a smoldering sensuality about him. That must have been what attracted Brian to him in the first place.

He remembered when Guy had walked through the door earlier that day. Brian had felt his cock twitch at the sight. Guy had black hair and dark eyes that burned with intensity. He obviously worked out quite a bit, having well defined abs and a slim, toned body. He hadn't minded taking off his clothes. There was no nudity in the shoot, even though Brian wouldn't have minded that one little bit. Maybe that's why he had ordered Guy to stay. He wanted to see what was under the skimpy bathing suit. He hadn't been disappointed in that respect. What had disappointed him was the man's lack of control, his need to call out his emotions. Brian hated emotions. He never let his be seen, except when he was egging on his models to get the picture he wanted. He had kept his emotions, such as they were, firmly in check his whole life. No one could hurt him or get the best of him or love him. He would not allow that to happen. He had a certain image that he always maintained.

Brian continued to study the pictures he had taken. Maybe that was what was so appealing about Guy. His emotions were written all over his face. When Brian asked him to smile or laugh or look sad, it was there immediately, clearly evident on the face. It was a kind of spontaneity that few people had, even models. It was what made Guy special, even to Brian.

The only problem was that Brian didn't trust emotions. The more obvious they were, the less he trusted them. All that vocalization from Guy had turned him off. It was too obvious, too blatant. He didn't like it and he didn't trust the sincerity of it. He wasn't sure why, because most people would think that was pure ecstasy pouring out of Guy's mouth. But Brian wasn't most people. He didn't buy it. Guy obviously got something from vocalizing like that. Maybe it was the model's way of convincing himself that he was having a really great time. Whatever it was, it left Brian cold.

And Brian was a cold bastard, a heartless shit, a fucking asshole. Those were all well earned names that had been applied to him. He didn't suffer fools or pretenders easily. They bored him and they usually made him angry.

Christ! How did he get started going down this road to all the miserable fucks he had had in his life. They must number in the thousands. Over the years he had fucked anything that moved, including most recently Guy. There had been a few good ones over the years, but they were harder and harder to find. Too often lately he felt like he was just going through the motions, like with Guy earlier. He got off and so did the trick, but neither of them was very satisfied at the end of it. Sometimes life was a fucking piece of shit.

His photos were good; maybe even a few were great. It had been a good day's work. The Williams swimsuit people would be pleased with the photos he was sure. Guy would be a standout. They all got something out of the shoot after all.

Brian turned off the light as he exited the darkroom. It was time to go to the baths, or Babylon, or home. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do.

He wrote a note for the cleaners to scrub the wall of the change room where Guy had shot his load. He wondered what the cleaners must think. This wasn't the first time he had written such a note. Maybe they lived vicariously through Brian's exploits. He smiled. Maybe they didn't even realize what the fuck they were washing off the walls or the desk or the floor.

Brian went to his desk. He flopped down in the chair and picked up his phone. He'd call his friend Michael. Mikey could always cheer him up when he was pissed with life. The message button was flashing. Someone must have called while he was in the darkroom. He pressed the button to listen to the message.

"Um … hello, Mr. Kinney? This is Justin Taylor. I'm a student at PIFA, that's Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts."

There was a pause and Brian was about to hang up, but there was something soothing in the soft yet firm voice coming over the wire.

"Some friends have encouraged me to get into modeling and I was wondering if I could come by your studio and talk to you about it. Someone gave me your number and said you were the best in Pittsburgh."

Brian smiled. This guy knew the right thing to say. Brian was the best photographer in Pittsburgh and steadily gaining a reputation as the best on the east coast. The best in the fucking country was next.

"Oh," the soft voice continued, "I don't expect you to hire me or anything. I just wanted to talk to you, maybe pick your brain. I'm not even sure that I could be a model. If that's the case, you could just tell me, and that would be the end of it."

Brian smiled again. That's most likely what would happen. This guy would be all right looking, but nothing to write home about. Brian would have to tell him the bad news. Maybe he'd fuck him as a consolation prize.

"Sorry, I've been rambling. I don't mean to take up your time, but if you could spare me a few minutes, I'd really appreciate it. My number is …"

Brian found himself writing the fucking number down. He wasn't sure why, but he would like to see what was attached to the voice he had been listening to. Next thing he knew he was dialing the number. He got a machine in response. He flipped his planner to tomorrow.

"Hi, this is Brian Kinney. You left a message that you wanted to talk to me. If you could come by my studio around five o'clock tomorrow, I can give you a few minutes then."

He hung up the phone wondering what had possessed him to make that offer. He should have just blown the kid off. He didn't really like telling potential models they didn't have the goods. Oh well, too late now. Maybe the kid would be eminently fuckable and he would get something out of it after all.

He picked up the phone and hit the speed dial for Michael.

"Hello?"

"Mikey, meet me at Woody's in fifteen minutes," Brian said.

"Who is this?" Michael giggled.

"You know who the fuck it is."

"All right, Brian. It must be a slow night if you're calling me at this hour."

"You got that right."

"No sexy models to slam against the wall and screw within an inch of their life?"

"Only one."

"I see. Your quota is down a little today."

"Woody's. Fifteen minutes," Brian repeated.

He hung up as he heard Michael say, "See you in a bit."

He could always count on Michael. They had been friends since they were teenagers. Lately though Michael had been dating a college professor whose name was Ben, and Brian had seen a lot less of him. He could find out what was going on with Michael and Ben when he met him in a little while. Brian cleared his desk. He always liked to leave things in a neat and orderly fashion. Some people thought he was anal that way. Fuck some people!

He glanced around the studio making sure things were ready for tomorrow. Those fucking cleaners better do a good job on the change room. He locked the door behind him and headed down the street to Woody's.

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