32 years old, the father of two sons. He’s now divorced because, as he put it, his independence made marriage difficult. He very happily inhabits his body, works out in a gym he built in his garage. He works in construction, which means that he’s very busy in San Francisco these days.
It’s always a charged moment, particularly with straight men, when I kneel and am obviously focused entirely on their genitals. Interestingly, I’ve learned that all men understand that their cock is worthy of study, attention, worship.
These photos don’t do justice either to the size and thickness of his muscular or to the pleasure he took in being this man. As an experiment, I had Matt come in to look at him. Mike’s perfect ease in being nude and being admired reminded me of what it must have been like to be a gladiator in Rome, nudity taken for granted, physique presented for inspection and admiration.
As he talked with Matt about work-out tips and about how to construct your own gym, Mike flexed to demonstrate the effectiveness of his work-outs. He was pleased that I wanted to take a series of photos of his biceps. I found it fascinating that he’d shaved everywhere.
When I asked him for a final pose for the shoot, this is what he did. I was struck with his upward glance, a kind of timeless gaze. The tattoos were from his married life—and I promised him I wouldn’t write about them.
In person he felt like a Nordic warrior, full of life and power. I honestly think that if I’d met him hundreds of years ago on a field of battle, he would have been a man who could take joy in killing or in dying gloriously. Certainly he loves life. – Paul Morris