Head 01 Hot Head (41 page)

Dante shot a possessive glance at Beth. He was saying something under his breath as he worked.

At her tripod, Beth waved away his modesty. “No apologies to me, Red. I need you to get wood and keep wood. Crew of one, remember? If jackass here

is happy to grease you and fluff you, it’l make our days easier.”

She looked between them, measuring something.

“I get it though…. You guys do look pretty amazing together.” It was an honest compliment.

Dante smiled before he could stop himself and grunted thanks. Going back to the bottle as necessary, he patiently polished Griff’s entire body like a statue,

worshipping it with oil, his face quiet and proud and possessive.

Dante worked al the way around him, kneeling to get close to his lower half so that his breath tickled the cinnamon hairs on Griff’s thighs.

Again, he was murmuring, and Griff could just make out the words “mine-mine-mine, you’re mine-mine.” Dante leaned forward and brushed his lips behind

Griff’s knee.

Griff smiled and sighed. By the end of the process, his skin glowed under the warm lights and his erection was hot iron.

“Don’t be shy!” Beth was thriled with the result; she stood, hip cocked, with the heavy digital camera held up at her shoulder. “You are a
stunner
, huh? I see what Alek meant. Jeepers.”

Dante stood up, fuming, and she threw him a towel to wipe his hands. He couldn’t take his eyes off Griff and muttered under his breath, “I hate other people

looking at you.”

Griff whispered right back. “’S’okay, D. This is for us. No one wil ever know but us.”

Dante nodded, eyes on the floor as he stepped back toward the dimness beyond the lights and the camera.

Beth held that light meter thing under his face and squinted at one of the spots to his right. She climbed on a stepladder and set a thin flag of fabric that broke the harsh beam into a diffuse glow.

Griff could feel the jealousy and anxiety and Italian guilt roling off his man in waves. His man. “Hey. Hey, Anastagio. Look at me.”

Dante did, turning back right at the edge of the light, his face guarded and grim.

“Whose am I?”

Dante nodded once, smiled a little. That was better.

DANTE and Beth fel into a kind of grudging, teasing, mutual nitpick society over the three days.

She thought he was a jealous, arrogant asshole, and he thought she was a bossy spider monkey.

Secretly, Griff thought they were both right. And he found out that modeling was way less glamorous and way harder on his body than he’d expected.

Crunching his muscles and flexing his dick and holding one position for up to an hour at a time left him feeling like a wet, knotted rag. He kept cramping in the cold.

Being a firefighter was way less painful and way more interesting. Hel! Even being a bouncer he got to talk to people and breathe normaly and wear pants.

Stil, three days to pay off HotHead was nothing. And then they had the world.

The first two days had been taken up with what Beth caled “parsley,” because those pictures were like a sexy garnish that Alek could sprinkle on webpages

as necessary.

She had a list of body parts and attacked each one with grim efficiency, checking them off as she worked her way over every square inch of him. After the

third hour he couldn’t even work up shyness about having Beth climb over him like a jungle gym. She admired him, but as if he were a tree or a rock.

For two entire nine-hour days, Beth shot Griff’s nipples, back, feet, biceps, glutes, calves.

- Click - Flick - Ca-click - Click -

His cock soft and his cock hard, and the curl of his ridged abs, shoulders, triceps, biceps.

- Click - Click - Ca-flick -

She did wider shots of his bent legs, his ful arms bunched rigid, his lower back and butt crack, his bals and wrinkled foreskin against his thighs.

- Click - Click - Flick-click - Click -

She even shot his armpits, and she’d given Dante a toothbrush and made him comb the bright whorls there until Griff was so fucking ticklish he thought he

was going to curl into a bal.

-
Click - Fa-click -

Neck, toes, hairy chest, spread cheeks, hips, throat, hands spread and in fists.

-
Flickclickcaclick -

To Griff it seemed like a butcher sectioning a side of beef.

Moo
.

Beth joked the whole time, and she made him feel almost comfortable. She was amazing.

Dante muttered the whole time and couldn’t be convinced to leave. His time off was over, but he’d taken sick days at his station and dared Beth, “I’m his, I

dunno, groomer, slave, whatever. Give me something to do.”

Good as his word, Dante dutifuly logged their progress through Beth’s butcher chart, fetched coffee and sandwiches and seltzer, oiled Griff and rubbed his

shoulders on the breaks like a water-boy. He groomed Griff for lint and dust like a chimpanzee.

If Beth pushed too long, Dante would get up in her face until she gave Griff a breather. By the second day, she was showing Dante the shots on her digital

camera and talking about them. He had an eye, apparently, and after the first day was wanting to take pictures of his own. Suddenly they were pals, but they stil fought good-naturedly al the time.

Though he didn’t admit it, Griff was glad, both for Dante’s help and for his fierce, protective jealousy. They realy were a perfect team, smoke and fire. And

every once in a while, he’d catch Dante watching him so intently, eyes scarab-black and hungry, that he’d honest-to-Christ shiver under the searing lights.

As the hours passed, Dante looked at him differently. Beth was showing him something he wasn’t used to seeing, maybe.

By the second day, Griff even clowned around naked. He stil put his robe on a lot, but it was for the cold. His modesty had falen away like ash.

Second afternoon, Beth stopped shooting closeups of his lower back and stood up and muttered, “Not a freckle.”

Griff tried not to move when he asked, “Sorry?”

“I keep looking for a freckle or a mole. I can’t find even one.” Beth was looking his skin over from about an inch away like an archaeologist.

Dante tapped her to remind her Griff was a person. “Hey….”

She smiled an apology and cracked her neck before starting on his back again. “Your skin is unbelievable. I can’t believe you never did that crappy FDNY

calendar.”

“Nah. Not my thing.” Griff had been too shy and too white to put himself up for it.

“I been in the calendar a couple times.” Dante held out a bottle of water for Griff to take a swalow.

“Of course you were, Guido.” She roled her eyes. “Tan and greasy. Geled hair, I bet. That was back when you were popping girls in bar bathrooms, right?”

Dante’s opened his mouth to get indignant, but Beth raised a hand. Griff chuckled to himself.
Busted.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a looker…. Trouble is, unlike your boyfriend, you know it.” She jabbed her fingers at Dante, who
just
managed to look offended.

“Hel, I’d pay either one of you to come back and model. Any time.” She snapped. “Y’al are a piss!”

Dante had his hands on his hips and looked insulted that the offer had taken her so long to make. “You fucking wish. You ain’t a charity, and I’m too fucking

expensive.”

“Al pains in the ass are pricey. Goes with the territory. You don’t scare me.” She leaned over Griff from her ladder for what he figured had to be a hard

angle on his pectoral and colarbone and the sweep of his broad torso from above. “Lean back a bit more so I can see the line. Hold. Hold it. Dante, nipple.”

Dante’s hand snuck around and pinched him, and the rosy bud peaked. Griff was past blushing.
Way
.

- Clickcaclick -

“Great. Flex the intercostals for me, Griffin. C’mon. Pushpushpush. Twist right a hair. Cut those ribs. Hold! Hang on one sec. Got it.”

- Fa-click -

Each night Griff left that studio feeling sore and bruised, like he’d been through a rough footbal practice. Each night he barely made it in Dante’s door before he fel asleep, smiling, with Dante’s hard length spooned against him protectively.

In the mornings, Dante fed him and rubbed him like a thoroughbred, waking him up with breakfast and a delicious sloppy blowjob. “Just to take the edge

off.” Griff wasn’t complaining, and it did keep him from embarrassing himself too much in front of Beth while Dante’s oiled hands roamed over him.

On the third day, the three of them started at the ass crack of dawn, and there was no more parsley to shoot. These were the show pieces, the money shots.

That last day, Beth started posing him like a dol, and Dante started working for real. And as Alek had promised, she steered clear of his face and she was

fiercely
professional.

To start with, Beth shot him from the side, waist down. “Can you stretch his bals from behind?” She was talking to Dante.

Dante grabbed and stretched.

Griff yelped. His thighs were already straining as he squatted, one hand planted on the wood floor, his heavy cock and the bals in question were nestled

almost in the crook of his elbow. The other arm was out of the way behind his back. He felt like human origami.

“Fuck, Beth.” Dante’s exasperated sigh brushed the hairs on his hamstring. “At 8 a.m.?” Right now, Dante was wedged between his leg and the wal to stay

out of the shot.

Beth regarded Dante in back, holding the camera on her hip. “Don’t castrate him, genius. I’m only using the right leg and the arm and his junk. I just want his bals to rest lower, so they’re in the fold of the arm. They sit kinda high and tight.”

“Sorry.” Griff realized he’d just apologized for the hang of his testicles and felt like an idiot.

Dante’s hands were gentle now as he tug-tug-tugged the oiled nutsack down without pinching or slipping loose.

Now that’s teamwork!

Behind him Dante bit his ass lightly with a smiling mouth, and Griff’s knob sweled inside its skin.

Beth chuffed in pleasure. “Perfect.”
Click-ca-clickclick.
“Hang on, Griffin. Almost there. Bicep! Squeeze-squeeze. One more and one more and one… got

it. Beautiful.”
Fa-clickclick.
“That’s my beautiful boy.”

“Uh. That’s
my
beautiful boy.” Dante poked his head out to fake snarl at her.

“Then you better start deserving him, cheesebag.” As she circled, she poked Dante in the shoulder, and he didn’t say anything back, just scowled at the floor, thinking.

And so it went. Beth spent the last day like a happy spider, up on ladders, on her back under him, curled around light stands. It was as though she had spent

two days learning his ingredients, and now she could cook with his entire huge, creamy body.

Whatever she was getting, Dante’s eyes got bigger and more serious as the day went on, his hands itching for a camera of his own. Beth ragged him constantly, but he seemed to love the good-natured abuse and provoked as much as he could. And the possessive stares he aimed at Griff were the cause of many

ful-body blushes, which Beth documented with relish. He didn’t even feel shy around her anymore, but his arousal was sharp, and he knew Dante felt it too.

Around two, Alek came by to watch them work and peek at the results, but left when it was clear that they’d gotten into a groove together.

He and Beth nodded together looking at the proofs. “Exceptional,” was al the Russian said.

And even Griff could tel it was something special. He hurt al over and he was chiled to the bone, but when Beth let him see what they’d been building, he

was shocked at the power and beauty of his own body.
Not bad for a blue-collar shlub
. He wondered if this was how Dante saw him, if that was why Dante looked so horny raking his scarab eyes over the results. He hoped so.

Near the end of that last day, Dante surrendered. Beth had been spiraling in on an image. By now, Griff understood the way she thought and could feel her

focus tightening on the relevant part of his anatomy and the picture she wanted to catch til the muscles there tingled.

At the moment, his arched lower back practicaly itched under her keen eyes. He had a sense that this shot was going to be low, his face only just out of

frame; he’d be visible from kneecaps right to the edge of his rust-stubbled jaw.

Dante was standing a little behind her, apparently hypnotized. He was unconsciously brushing his lips with one tan hand, watching Griff, his eyes squinted as

he tried to see what Beth was seeing.

Look at him looking at me.

Griff smiled to himself.

She knelt down, shooting up to Griff’s buttocks and, just peeking between his thick thighs, the fat bals dangling under his uncircumcised cock. His back

twisted into high, flexed relief, and one rosy nipple was just visible at the swel of his pec turning toward her. One of Griff’s hands held a meaty cheek slightly open to reveal the light cinnamon hairs and a hint of pink butthole. Gripping the oiled muscle, the first knuckle of his index finger just barely slipped inside him.

Hey!

“Stop right there! Don’t you fucking move. Don’t!” Beth barked and inched forward. “Almost… gimme a sec….”

Griff froze. Dante was frozen as wel. The knuckle was just inside him, a sexy accident.

Like an excited marmoset, Beth dropped a little lower, skittering back with her legs and sliding on her shoulders so she could get the ful length of him from

haunch to shoulder. “Okay. A little more twist. Chest high. Almost. Hold that! That’s it, man. Yeah! Tense the left glute hard. Beautybeautybeauty. Look at you….

Crunch it, Griffin. Flex. Flex! And—”
Click-ca-faclick—

Dante breathed in sharply somewhere past the lights, like he’d been stung.

“Perfecto!”
Ca
-
CLICK
. “We got it. You’re good. Let go.”

“You’re sure?” But he’d already relaxed out of the pose. He was sore from holding the position for so long. It was getting dark outside, and he was ready to