PAUL’S PHOTOS || Trophy Boy

He was reclining on the couch.  When I walked over he started to happily wiggle around as I snapped shot after shot of him.  I commented on his shirt and he laughed.

His clothes came off and things went well for a while.  I took snapshots of him as he stretched, as he scratched his knee.

Suddenly, inexplicably, it was as though the emotional temperature of the room plummeted.  I honestly don’t know what happened, but suddenly it was very tense, almost unpleasant. I positioned him some poses that I liked and took some pro forma shots.  Regardless of the emotional tenor of a shoot, I am always in love with the architecture of the male body. I asked him to crouch on the green chair so I could take this shot of his genitals, so beautiful emerging from between his legs.

I glanced up and was shocked to see the intensity with which he was watching me.  His eyes seemed full of tears; he was immensely sad. I asked if he was ok.  He shrugged and sat down on the chair.  For a while all I could was snap pointless shots of a sad young man.  The little blue star tattooed near his navel felt ironic, heartbreaking.

I felt inadequate to ask the right questions.  The mood he’d fallen into was too deep for me to approach. Following a truly stupid impulse, I had Trevor gently squeeze his nipple.  His only response was to put his hand over Trevor’s.

I’m a pornographer, nothing more, nothing less.  I crouched down to snap this last shot, centering it on the center of my life: male sex.  I’m ill-equipped—utterly incompetent!—to deal with the emotional depths this young man had suddenly fallen into.  I felt as though I should have held his hand, said something sage, comforting.

But I’m a pornographer.  I snapped the last shot and left the room.

Paul Morris

  1. great photos. you can see the sadness you refer to in your post on his face. but we are sure you coulda brought someone in rite quick to redirect his thoughts on something more erect – had you not been consumed by the look of potential regret staring at your face so poignantly.

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