Camera Guy Pt. 01

1

I never knew my dad; he left when I was two; Mom worked as a cashier at the grocery store during the day, 3 nights a week she sold tickets at the theater. I was at Gramma and Grampa's when I wasn't in school.

I wasn't into sports, it wasn't because I wasn't strong, I just wasn't interested, and I was somewhat awkward; likely because I didn't like sports; yes, I was the one who got picked last.

I'm that kid, the one in grade school that wore hand me downs, patches on my knees, carried my books without a backpack, lunch in a tin box.

I walked with my head down, avoiding eye contact. Taking routes hoping not to see any bullies; but most days they found me, called me names, pushed me, shoved me.

I had no friends, I rode my old bike, I avoided others. I just read, what else can a kid do alone? Gramma and gramps were too old to play outside. Gramma would knit or cook, Gramps did word puzzles and watched game shows. I knew my family loved me; I wasn't hungry.

I thought I was a happy normal kid, but I never thought about those things; until other kids started telling me I was different, all those degrading remarks took there toll; I started to believe them. I became sad, I seldom went anywhere, hiding at recess, and lunch; rushing away after school before I got tripped, shoved, or punched.

I remember it was a Saturday, school would soon be out for the summer, I was in grade 4. Gramma had been harping on Grampa all week to clean out the garage.

After breakfast he asked me to help.

Grampa would open a cardboard box and tell me.

"Garbage, put it outside; I need to go through that one put it in the center; this ones to keep, set this one over there." By lunch we had a stack of garbage and a bunch to go through.

It was the 3rd box grampa opened.

"Here's a box of your dad's stuff, you can have it, take what you want and garbage the rest." I took it to the lawn and dumped the contents, scattering everything so I could see it all at the same time. I was exciting, I knew nothing about my dad, it was like he never existed, until now; this was my dad. I carefully examined each item.

I found 2 pictures of him; it was the first time I had any image of what he looked like. One of him with Mom in bathing suits at a beach, another of him leaning against an old car in white t shirt and rolled up jeans. He looked like pictures I'd seen of James Dean.

I studied those photos for the best part of an hour, having so many emotional thoughts. Where is he? Is he alive? Why did he leave? They went in my pocket.

I spotted a camera, one of those point and shoot that took a cartridge of film. It appeared to have film in it, and likely was in working condition. Next, I opened a cigar box that must have been his 'favorites' a few very odd marbles, a big clear one, with glittering sparkles inside, a rough wooden one, a couple of all black ones, baseball cards, with cigarette names on them, 3 'Matchbox' cars and a 3 bladed pocketknife. I kept all the magazines and comic books.

That night after supper I showed mom; she told me to check online, that possibly the cars and cards might be valuable. She cried for a long time when she saw the photos, she went to her room right after that, still crying.

That was a defining moment that changed me; a turning point in my life, that a small 3x3 inch picture created so much emotion it made my mom cry. This proud, strong, independent woman who endured everything, my rock, my hero, was crying over a simple image that was captured many years ago.

I recognized that photos were important; I was going to become a photographer.

At breakfast I showed mom the camera, she told me not to open it, there was a film in it, and might still be good.

The next day was Sunday, mom didn't work, we went to church as a family; I sat between mom and gramma. I took a picture of the priest. Gramma pushed my hand down and shook her head. Later that day I finished the film; mom said she would get it developed, but from now on, I needed to pay for new film and developing.

I sold the matchbox cars and had enough for 2 rolls of film and kept some for developing.

I went online and searched for the baseball cards, they weren't ultra rare but had a few dollars value, so I put them back in Dad's cigar box on my dresser.

It was summer holidays; I spent the days riding my bike, taking pictures in the woods, on main street, it was a great summer. The weekend before school started, I was on my last roll of film and not enough money to buy another, I decided to sell the baseball cards, and was waiting for mom to get off work so she could come with me, so the man at the trading shop wouldn't take advantage of a kid.

I was sitting on a bench outside the drug store, next to mom's work. I saw Gracie, I had a bit of a crush on her; she was cute, and one of the few who talked to me. She saw me take her picture, came over and introduced her mom, who asked me to take a couple pics of them together.

A couple days later a policeman knocked on our door, he wanted to see the pictures I took of Gracie. They weren't developed, the police took the film.

A week later, my picture was in the local paper, receiving a $500 reward because my photos led to the arrest of 2 guys, who robbed the drug store, I captured them in the background of Gracie's photo.

My career was started. I bought a better camera, several rolls of film and a subscription to a photography magazine.

In high school, I was a grade A student, the newspaper editor, I took pictures for that and the yearbook. I was still a loner; I wasn't bullied, but my self-confidence had been destroyed in grade school, I never dated. I hid behind my camera and on my computer. I became a talented geek; an artistic photographer; I loved it; I planned my college courses around photography.

In my senior year I upgraded to digital, developed a social media page advertising myself as a photographer; weddings, birthdays, baby pics, portraits, and I was getting 4 or 5 paying jobs a month.

A lot changed after graduation; I received a partial scholarship to a college 2 hours away. I enrolled majoring in arts, following my dream of being a celebrity magazine, or model photographer; but would settle to be a freelance paparazzi, selling my photos to whomever.

I searched online for accommodations near campus. I found an apartment, on Craigslist, walking distance to campus, with a free apartment by taking on the caretaker duties. I got the job and apartment; so, with tuition paid, all I needed now was grocery and spending money. I had my social network photo business and started getting a few local photo shoots. I soon knew everyone already in the apartment, most were students who hadn't arrived yet.

It was my 2nd week in the apartment when Jodi arrived, her mom and brother were helping her move in. I unlocked her apartment, we introduced one another; I gave her my card with my phone number, made her put it on her fridge; and asked.

"Any large items I might help with?"

"Nope, just a double bed, and a futon; we can handle that. Thanks." She was cute, bubbly, overflowing with enthusiasm, she reminded me of Gracie.

It was about 7 pm that night, when I got a frantic call from Jodi.

"HELP, I have a plumbing problem, hurry." I quickly hustled to her apartment; the toilet was overflowing. I shut off the water valve under the tank and asked for some towels. A few towels would be quicker than going for the wet vac. She grabbed a blanket and a couple towels, and I spread them on the floor, wiping up the water, wringing them out and repeating, it was about 20 minutes to wipe up all the spillage. I placed the soaked items in the tub; I saw something red in the toilet, it definitely wasn't feces, so I reached in and pulled out a red bra. I held it up and laughing, said.

"I guess I should have showed you the laundry room; there's no need to wash anything in the toilet."

I looked up, expecting her to be blushing, embarrassed; she lost it, she doubled over; her laughing spell opens her robe; and I was viewing her full naked front. I covered my eyes and turned away; as I stood up, she wrapped and tied her robe.

Now, we were both red faced and blushing.

"I took a shower after mom left, I guess when I grabbed my clothes from the floor, that fell in. Sorry for interrupting your evening."

"It's ok, I actually feel well rewarded. So, uh, thank you." I made a childish happy face.

"Guy, if you're not busy, would you please share a Ziggy with me and a glass of wine; this is my first time away from home; I don't know anyone here; my cable and internet won't be hooked up for a couple days. I'd really like some company."

"A what, what's a Ziggy?"

"A J, a doobie." She looks at me, I'm baffled still not knowing I again say.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really, uh some weed, marijuana." She gave me that look, that unspoken gaze that that cuts deep into a diffident; I felt that all too many times in school. That

'What are you retarded?' look.

"I've never done any drugs; and I've only drank a couple times. In high school I was the nerd focused on my grades and photography." I sheepishly stared at the floor.

"Well, I guess I'll be going."

"What NO, let me corrupt you." She giggles, grabs my hand we sit on her futon. She picks up a rugged looking cigarette.

"Seriously Guy, marijuana is legal, it's safer than alcohol; I think it's fun, and it's very relaxing." She lights the skinny self-rolled cigarette; wrinkled paper twisted at either end. She sucks in deeply and holds her breath. She sputters and holds it towards me.

"Just suck a little, you'll likely cough, it takes a few times to get used to." I take a drag and immediately cough, and hack. I feel very embarrassed.

"Ok, that's pretty good, try again." It was the 4th toke before I didn't cough; and I was feeling the lightheaded effects.

"So, tell me about Guy and what led him here. Then I'll share my pathetic past being totally honest as well."

{Maybe I judged hastily, she didn't mean to hurt me, that's my baggage, she was surprised I didn't know about Marijuana.}

I thought I'd cover the highlights, not giving up any embarrassing details; keeping my guard up, so to speak.

"I grew up a couple of hours from here as an only child, mostly with my grandparents; never knew my dad, mom worked 2 cashier jobs; we struggled month to month."

Jodi attaches a roach clip, toked, and passed the last to me. I took another puff.

"You're turn."

"Me too; a couple of hours away, Dad's a former cop, now a partner in a big security firm. Mom's a successful realtor; my only sibling is 2 years older; he's a martial arts instructor, operating his own gym."

"I don't know what it's like to struggle. Not rich, but not needing. I grew up in a very happy, loving family home."

She fetches a bottle of wine and 2 glasses. Passes the corkscrew to me. I open the bottle, pass it back.

She's pouring, I hold my hand over my glass.

"No thanks, I'm already lightheaded." She smiles nods and sets the bottle down.

"Your turn, tell me more."

"I was always, picked on, shunned, bullied; I became a loner, I found solace with an old camera I got when I was 11, been hiding behind them since.

I received a $500 reward when my photo captured 2 guys robbing the drug store.

In high school, I was confident enough as a photographer and started a social media page that gets me some paying photography work, weddings, birthdays, and children pics. I'm here on a partial scholarship; my apartment is free by me being the caretaker. Can't afford a car, I bike everywhere, no TV, I have a laptop, my books, and camera equipment."

"Good for you Guy, I really respect that, doing whatever's needed, Guy makes things happen." She lifts her glass as if toasting me.

It felt great; fantastic, Jodi, a stranger, recognizing my efforts, complimenting me; she boosted my ego. Only my mom and grandparents ever congratulated me before.

"Thank you for those kind words, Jodi, it feels good to be recognized by someone besides family." I felt ecstatic, wanting to celebrate. I pour myself some wine, we clink glasses.

She put her legs under her bum, twisted toward me and sat back, not realizing her robe wasn't covering her nether region, or she didn't care. I avoided staring but I couldn't help but occasionally peek.

She went on with her story.

"I have a nice car, cable TV, also a laptop," Giggling.

"I'll drive you if needed, maybe you'd like to watch movies with me sometimes." She sipped her wine and continued.

"I had a strong social life in school, I was popular, a cheerleader, not the elite crowd, but I did circulate somewhat in everybody's circle. No scholarship, my parents are paying, they met here in college, so they expect me to also find my life partner here." She giggles.

"I had a couple relationships in high school, nothing really serious." As she reached for the wine bottle to refill, the upper portion of her robe opens, I could clearly see a bare breast. I'd never seen a girl's breast other than in my photography magazines. It was spectacular to me, a real live boob, I was aroused, she caught me staring.

She sips her wine, obvious she's aware, but unconcerned she is exposed, she leans back, smiling broadly.

"So, Guy, you have anyone serious; got a girlfriend back home?"

"Nope," I'm reluctant, but for some reason I feel comfortable with Jodi; she hasn't judged me, maybe it's her openness, her uninhibited attitude, or genuinely wanting to be a friend. I decide to tell her.

"Frankly, open, and honest; I've never even kissed a girl. I'm scared to even consider dating. I could well be destined to being a lifelong bachelor."

There's a slight hesitation.

"Nope, not on my watch," She put her glass on the coffee table, took mine out of my hand setting it down.

"You're a cool guy, you deserve better." She literally attacked me; straddled me, held my head, and forced her tongue into my mouth. I resisted her, to no avail, she pursued. Still holding my head, one tit exposed sitting on my lap.

"Relax, I'm going to teach you, as your friend, I won't let you be a forever bachelor." She kissed me again.

"I won't let you use that for an excuse, I'll teach you how to be a confident lover."

She sticks her tongue in my mouth swirls it around.

"We'll be friends with benefits; we'll be completely open and honest. I'm going to search for my forever man, meanwhile I'll teach you, so you can have the confidence to find a good woman for yourself." She kissed my cheek.

"Ok, agreed." She sat back, her boob still exposed.

"So, if you've never kissed, you must be a virgin, have you ever touched a girl's body?

"No," I'm anxious, I might be visibly shaking, but again, it's Jodi, I can tell her anything, she won't judge me, she's, my friend. I go on.

"I've seen nude pics in my magazines, you know, models posing."

She pulls her robe aside.

"Guy, I'd love to pose for you. I'm aroused, your virginity has me intrigued, I'm excited to be the teacher instead of the prey."

"I've had a few fellows, I'm very promiscuous, I love sex."

I was getting a hard on, is this really happening? I'm making a tent barely constrained by my sweatpants." She could see it.

She stands and drops her robe, slowly spins, giving me a full view of her nude body.

"Someday I might become a model, I dream of being a movie star.

"I've never seen a live naked woman." I was blushing bashfully; scared to move.

Jodi was sensuous, a nubile blonde, I think she's as cute and sexy as any of the models in my magazines. 36 25 34; her body was seductively sexy. Her breasts were full and round, her areoles and nipples were only a couple shades darker than her well-tanned skin, evident by the whiter tiny triangle area that a string bikini shaded. She had a red tattoo of the 'Rolling Stones' tongue logo just to the upper left of the barely visible rectangular patch of soft blonde pubic hair.

{DAMN, if this is a dream, I don't want to wake up.}

Jodi sat close beside me, lit another ziggy.

"Open your mouth;" she took a big drag.

"Suck it in," she slowly blew the smoke into my mouth, instantly covered my mouth with hers. I couldn't exhale through my mouth, her tongue was swirling around, I let it go out my nose; when I gasped for air, she chuckled.

"Guy, I'm not your girlfriend, this will be a platonic relationship. I find it thrilling; I'm horny thinking about teaching you, I'll be kind, patient and considerate, this will be such fun for us both."

She put the joint to my lips and straddles me, sitting on my legs.

"Will you let me to teach you, or do you want to go on to be a bachelor?" She pushes her left boob to my face.

"Trust me Guy, it'll be so much fun; I thought I was going to have to use my dildos and vibrators, for a couple weeks."

Use your lips suck my nipple, flick it with your tongue."

Her one hand held my head, the other rubbed my hard dick.

"Oh, I definitely want to learn." Her hand went inside my sweats, releases my cock by levering my sweats with her wrist as her hand slides up my rod.

"Nice cock Guy let's get a look at it." She stepped off.

"Poor thing never been in a woman." She gave the tip a condolence kiss. I was very horny and had a good buzz on, but I had no intent to resist.

"I admit, I'm not sure if I'm more scared or excited to submit to such a stunning girl." "Ok, open, honest, friends with benefits."

"I'm promiscuous, I love sex." She widens my legs and sits back down.

"There that's better." She grips my member in her hand.

"Guy, you've got a splendid shaft, a little longer than most, and a nice wide girth."

"I've had a few fellows, and none were this big. You're a lucky man; and that'll make it more pleasurable for me as well." I lift my ass as she tugs my sweats down.

"MMmm, nice, I'll take the necessary time training you how to effectively use it." She squeezes my dick, her thumb rubs across the glans.

"Don't worry, it's perfectly natural, everyone has to learn, most guys just stumble and fumble around as teenagers, never learning; until their wife helps them." She kisses me again.

"Many never learn; I had to train both guys I had relationships with. High school guys usually ejaculate the first some girl touches them. You've already surpassed my expectations."

She is slowly and gently pulling on my cock, twisting as she tugs.

"You're doing well, I'm impressed, seriously most guys cum before they get there prick out of their pants the first time."

"Untrained guys, only want to get their rocks off. Everyone needs to be trained how to properly satisfy a woman. You'll get that training." She licks my knob, wets her hand with saliva.

"First, we'll get your initial ejaculation out of the way, so you can think with your brain instead of this." Her thumb rubs across the tip, fingers squeezing and gently twisting. She squeezes my dick, with both hands, she begins rapidly stroking, twisting, squeezing. I lay my head back as I feel new sensations tingle in my balls, her slender fingers gripping with a progressive, wave type, wiggling pressure, milking my shaft. I shudder, my leg muscles stiffen, I groan as I squirt a stream of sperm, her fingers twist and tug, and I spew several more strings, globs of gooey cream onto and across both my thighs and her hands.

"Wonderful." She wipes me with her robe.

"Ok, that's step one, you did great, now just relax."

"Watch closely there will be a test." She lays back, one leg on the back of the futon, one across my lap. She puts both hands behind her head.

I was gazing at a live, sensual, sexy gal willing to teach me how to properly fuck her.

Another defining moment in my life, camera not necessary, this image is burned in memory forever.