I am 45. Excellent shape. Handsome. Maybe that description may not be

yours but I think so. I am a freelance photojournalist. Jobs come not too

close together but I pull a light sled: One room digs, two outfits, cheap

take out, no car. Right now I am living on a big score. I stumbled on a

well-known male rock star smooching with a boy pal. I got a full five

minutes of it and it appeared everywhere. Maybe you saw it. I got four

thousand for that and I have hardly dipped into it but I was beginning to

worry since nothing has come up in over a month.

I was drinking coffee in an East Village cafe. Good coffee is my only

legal vice. A young guy, Marc by name, recognized me from an article about

me. He came over to my table and gestured a question to sit down. I

nodded. Being a photographer and tend to examine people closely. He was a

very handsome kid, maybe twenty, tight light brown tight curls spilling all

over and dropping almost into his pale almond eyes. The exotic makeup of

the upper part of his face was mitigated by the lush sexy lower part with

pillowy lips, small white teeth and diagonal dimples creasing both cheeks.

He was so great looking, I wondered if he was gay. I am, but perhaps you

know that.

He was talking in a lovely deep croony voice. I found myself so fascinated

with the pitch and the way his pink tongue worked the words that I think I

missed the first part.

'I was zoning out a moment. Can you repeat the beginning?'

'I have a trust fund. I want to do something interesting with it. I got

this idea and you are the best person to help me realize it. I propose a

trip, I pay all expenses, to several East European countries to photograph

boys wanking.'

I laughed. 'I thought you said wanking.'

'I did. Listen kids will do anything for money. If we get some

interesting wank sessions on film, we can probably sell it to a gay porno

distributor for millions. We split the profit. What do you think?'

'Are you gay. Not that it's a bad thing. I am though. Does that make any


'I don't think I am gay. I never had any gay sex but lots of regular sex.

I am a free soul, very accepting.'

We met several times mapping out the procedure. We both agreed it should

be simple. Marc would man the camera and I would interview the kid and

sort of direct the action. We decided the best way to recruit was to

locate and gay guy and get him to make the contacts. We also felt that we

would offer hundred bucks for undressing and being photographed, hundred

bucks more for wanking, and an additional for cumming on camera. That came

to us for no reason and proved to be the right incentive. Maybe they would

have done it for less, but what the hell.

We decided to start in St.Petersberg.

It's a l-o-o-o-n-n-n-g flight. I sat up the whole time. Marc slept like a

baby for almost the whole flight, waking to eat and then back to dreamland.

He certainly was a cutey but I was determined to make this a business

relationship. We took first class, that was good idea. I could stretch my

six-foot four frame and legs. The food was pretty good. This was the

Swedish Airlines. There was an excellent looking steward but I resisted.

The airport at St.Petersberg sure looked different that a U.S. airport.

The people seemed poor, their luggage cheesy.

We were assailed with Gypsies, at least what's what I call them. Every stop

we made there ware these dark complexioned kids. They all looked the same.

They wanted to take our bags and get us cabs and sell us watches and stuff.

We had to yell at them to get through.

We checked in to the best hotel that was owned by Swedes. Our room was

going to be our studio so we booked the largest room with two double beds.

The two of us were wiped out from the trip. We both stripped to our under

shorts and fell into bed. I think we slept a good three hours. It was

darkening outside. 'Okay Marc, practice your own wankin' let's get grub.'

'No wankin' by the proprietors, only the customers,' he said giggling.

After a Swedish/Russian style dinner we headed outside to a small park.

'Let's look over the territory,' I said, taking a seat on a park

bench. Marc sat beside me. We both noticed that some young guys passed us

a few times, they all scoped out Marc, not me. I guess the daddy type was

not popular here. 'Hey Marc, I think I am chilling the works. I'm going

to sit elsewhere and you can be the bait.'

Sure enough a kid came over and sat on Marc's bench. I could make out the

conversation slightly. He spoke in Russian and then tried French. Finally

he asked if Marc spoke English. 'Ah he said, You are a nice looking

fellow. Do you do boys?'

I could hear Marc's familiar voice more clearly. He told the kid that he

doesn't make it with boys but he photographs boy sex. The kid looked bored

until he heard the price. 'I would do that.'

'Good,' Marc said and then pointing to me he said I was the producer and

director of our movies. The kid nodded.

In a moment the three of us headed upstairs. I called room serve and had a

bottle of Vodka and some snacks sent up.

This kid was to be our shake out cruise.

After he gorged himself on chips and cheese and drank straight from the

bottle he gave us a crooked smile, his head tilted to approximate slyness

and asked, 'You really mean that money you described. How about me as a


Of course that was our idea. Marc sprang up, snapped on the floodlight and

opened his tripod and directed the shot to the bed on the left. I assumed

the role of director and interviewer. But first Spike, yes that was his

name. We found that our subjects frequently adopted American names they

picked up from the cinema. As I was saying I directed Spike to take off

his clothes and lie on the bed. 'That's hundred just to strip, right?' he

asked in his best horse trading manner. He was assured and he leaped to

shuck his worn clothes, poor kid. He was no beauty. We hoped the

succeeding subjects would be better and we determined to instruct Spike to

recruit only the best looking and no one over twenty five. I deemed spike

to be early twenties. He was tall-for a dwarf-maybe five feet two. His

legs and arms were short, and he had a slightly protruding stomach.

Otherwise, (ha ha) he was ready for his closeup Mr. DeMille. He did have a

very cute face, small nose, curly lips and surprisingly pretty teeth. Add

to that, luxuriant light brown hair, you could look at him without


As he undressed and the camera was recording I gave him a sort of interview

and learned that he lied a lot, claimed to earn five hundred dollars a day

hustling and that he only allowed his john to blow him. 'I never do that

to johns, and ass stuff is out. He claimed to be a football player in

school and won many medals. He said that his family is very rich and he

could stop hustling any time and join the family bank.

He showed us his rather large, but well shaped ass, then lay down on the

bed and caressed his stubby prick. It was shaped like a blunt cigar and

had a translucent short foreskin. During his exhibition he made lots of

noises and screwy facial expressions. I guess that's what the trade

required. He shook his cock, he stroked it, he poured oil on it and

finally called to Marc who was busy with his equipment (I mean camcorder).

'Maybe the good looking guy Marc over there might wish to slightly

stimulate my sexual organ so I might earn the final hundred dollars.'

'Marc jumped in fear and turned stag-in-the-headlight eyes on me. I

shrugged. Finally Marc told shorty that it was a no go. I laughed at his

discomfort. Then I realized that Spike was staring at me and curling his

fingers and moving them in a familiar gesture. 'You, older guy, you're

pretty good looking too. How about it. Be nice, help.'

What the hell. I got on my knees next to the bed and hunched myself down

so only my hand was in the picture. As soon as I touched the slimy thing

he began crying out in pleasure, but in a very phony way. This was three

hundred wasted dollars. I stroked him. He did get very hard. Good lord,

his heavy hanging balls began to hoist themselves up the mast. He was

rolling around. I had trouble keeping in position. 'Okay,' he said,

'That's enough. I am now on my way.' He began a vigorous pumping of his

cock. I thought he'd dislodge it from his body, but no, he knew what he

was doing. Finally he screamed and made us jump and declared he was

coming. Marc moved forward to get the money shot. The four inch pickle

pulsated and a small amount of semen settled in his inny.

'Not much cum,' I told him.

'Well I had four dates already. Next time you should get me in earlier.'

I don't know if that was true but it did seemed like a good idea to do our

work in the morning when the dudes are primed with cum and then we can have

the rest of the day off. We told Spike that we would give him a chance to

get guys from us and that we can usually fit in two or three in the


He wanted to know what his fee would be. Marc decided for us. 'We'll give

you twenty bucks. You can make your own deal with the kids, I'm sure

they'll give you a rake off as well.' Spike looked injured that we would

think that of him but he left whistling and promised to be at our door at

ten AM.

Marc and I were exhausted and hungry. We went downstairs. The dining room

was closed but a few Americakanski dollars opened it. We had scrambled

eggs and blintzes with caviar dropped on top. For desert we had a kind of

honey cake, I would call Danish. Lots of strong tea finished up the meal.

Our waiter was amazed that we didn't ask for vodka and didn't leave the

table staggering as most foreigners did. He asked us, after we tipped too

much, if we wanted girls sent to our room. When we said no, he asked

'Boys?' Who would think that Russia would turn out to be a heaven for boy


Marc and I washed up and just made it to bed. Incidentally, Marc is quite

a sight naked. Long hanging and swaying cock, beautiful shaped body, and

the best ass in the Eastern European sector. I loved the soft fuzzy hair

on it.

The next morning we awoke because there was a heavy knocking on our door.

I peeked out. Oh my, three lovely boys were waiting. 'Just a few minutes

while we dress and then you can come in.'

Marc ordered coffee as we washed and dressed. Then we invited Spike and

his army to enter. Three boys named Sy, Chuck and Bob trooped in, directed

by Spike with much handling of the merchandise. We interviewed each boy.

Sy was gorgeous. He told us he was eighteen, that he just arrived form his

farm to St.Petersberg just two weeks ago. When asked if he like it, he

told us that he was hungry all the time and the old guys who paid him

regularly cheated him and wouldn't pay up after they masturbated him. He

was about six feet tall, pure white fine grain skin, pink curly mouth, a

blond. By now the recording was on. I asked him 'You are willing to do

this job for us'. He nodded vigorously and told us that he could live for

a month or more with the money. 'When can I start?' he asked, beginning to

pull off his shirt.

We told him to wait, that we wanted to meet the others but that he was

definitely hired.

The second boy was a big fellow, maybe two hundred fifty pounds, but not

fat. His body was large boned and he was close to six foot five. His pink

baby skin and innocent blue eyes belied his powerful and dangerous


Finally came Bob. He was very girly but well built. He was about five

six, quite hairy with dark hair. His heavy eye lashes and wavy hair made

him a hunk inspite of his sissy way of talking. Marc came up with the idea

of pairing Bob with the big guy in a double wank. Bob agreed immediately

but Chuck wasn't sure. 'I do men for money. I do not hang out with fags

like this Bob.' But finally he agreed.

So we got started with Sy. What a cute kid, what skin quality what a long

cock. He was so cute. When he stroked he pushed out his lips like a kiss.

He lovingly titillated his tits, up and down and across and finally

pinching hard. We had a VCR set up and he watched the bi sexual one with

amazement. He kept his eyes widening in awe and said that the kids back

home wouldn't believe these tapes. It only took him about four minutes to

spew like a garden hose. The poor kid had that characteristic where he

would almost pass out when he came. His spews were prodigious and left him

weak. We had to help him to the couch to rest for awhile.

Chuck turned his back to Bob as they disrobed. They sat on the bed and I

got them talking about themselves. It seems that Chuck only hustled

occasionally, o when he needed money. I later found out that he was

married and had two kids. Go figure. He hinted that he had women wanting

him. His body was really beautiful in a heroic way, large slabs of pecs

and tight muscular stomach. His upper legs were prodigious. If he was a

woman, you would call him Junoesque. His package however was

disappointing. A nice pink worm lay over his round ball sack. It would

turn out to be more appealing when erected, very curved. Bob kept peeking

as they undressed and by the time they finished he had a nice strong

erection. It was a big cock. I'd say easily eight inches. It looked out

of place on his slim body. Chuck caught a look at it and let out a Russian

oath. They settled on one bed. Chuck was careful to allow a good space

between them He was skittish about this whole thing.

Bob began a dreamy slow stroke. Chuck merely lay his hand on his cock, but

I'm sure he felt the bed moving as Bob stroked. Then Bob really began to

get into it and emitted a long sigh and like most of the kids (me too) he

rested a hand down alongside his balls. He separated his legs and soon one

hairy leg rested against Chuck's hairless, muscular leg. At first he

jumped, then he pushed back slightly. Now Bob was looking down at Chuck's

cock. 'Do it big guy, let me see you spunk off.' This seemed to start

Chuck off. He took his hand and began to shake his cock like he was drying

it. Soon it responded and got hard. Bpb said in a whisper, 'We get the

third hundred if we shoot. You need help?'

Chuck signed, 'I guess so, but don't mention this to anyone outside this

room or I kill you.'

Bob reached out his small feminine hand and touched the big guy's now stiff

cock. Chuck jumped, then settled down. 'Do it good, don't tickle it.'

Bob turned sideways and began a steady stroke, Chuck was in heaven, his

eyes closed, his mouth working in passion. Bob was leaking pre cum on

Chuck's hip. I decided that Bob was going to shoot first. 'Marc,' I

called, 'Get close to the little guy, I think he's so excited by playing

with Hercules that he may cum.'

Marc moved close, I was right, Bob began a slow fucking motion with his

hips and he shouted out, 'I am cumming, oh shit.' This boy was some

cummer. It took a long time to clean up the place after his heavy six

shots. Chuck felt some of the hot stuff hit his chest and that set him

off. He grabbed Bob's hand and forced him to speed up. Finally Chuck

began what sounded like throwing up as he discharged a nice load from his

small cock. You can never tell.

We got two more guys for the recordings, that made six except we might

eliminate Spike. We had to eliminate one. He got undressed to his under

shorts then wouldn't go further. He cursed us and said we were sick

people. He ran out. Oh well.

Next stop Warsaw



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