I wasn’t sure if I would post these. It was a complicated and strange shoot. Just as we started he announced that he’s a professional photographer. He started talking very quickly, very nervously. I snapped at him, telling him to “shut the fuck up.” Not a productive tone to set.
The center of my interest is sexuality as an expression, a language, of maleness. After our inauspicious beginning, his sexual energy seemed closed off. His cock seemed held in, tight, cold to the touch.
His body is spectacularly beautiful, so finding lovely poses, nice shots, wasn’t a problem at all. But there was a chasm between us—my fault completely for having snapped at him.
And then things became strange. Nick was helping me, and so was Trevor, a new apprentice. I was playing with seated positions when I noticed that the model’s hand was pushing to get underneath Trevor’s boot. I pretended not to notice, fumbling with the camera.
I quickly moved over and said to Trevor “Step on it. Go ahead.” The model immediately offered his hand to be stepped on and Trevor gently put his boot down. I said “Go ahead. Crush it.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying.
But even though I think that’s what the model wanted, Trevor didn’t step down harder. Instead, he stepped back shyly. I framed this, a snapshot that (I think) clearly shows the energetic disconnect between me and the photographer.
So, if disconnect is what I have, disconnect is what I’ll play with. I positioned the model like this and had Trevor grip his cock firmly. I said “Hold it until the energy flows, until it warms up.” A moment after this shot–just as the model was obviously beginning to relax–I told Trevor to pull back. Immediately, the model angrily lay flat on his belly.
The next day, he sent a note to Nick to let him know that my methods are “surreal and unpleasant”.
By the end of the session I think we’d worn each other down. I put him on the green chair in this pose and had Trevor gently make contact. After a minute or so it was as though everything relaxed.
There is something truly mystical about the space between a man’s legs. I had Trevor kneel between the photographer’s legs and cup his genitals.
And now everything flowed. As his cock grew, he looked off into the distance. And this, the last shot, really should have been the first.
– PAUL MORRIS