The Calendar Project - Chapter 03

THE CALENDAR PROJECT

 Chapter 3: March (Dylan)

It was Dylan’s turn and I was beyond excited.

Both Miles and Jared had been (very) open-minded and gorgeous models, but having met Dylan once, I could only expect him to be even more of a show-off.

At the only party I had seen him, he was dancing outrageously on a table in his tighty whities before pretending to fuck a pillow on the floor.

Trust me when I say that the guy had some dirty moves, grinding and thrusting his hips against any furniture he could find like a dog in heat.

Dylan was a true-to-form attention whore, living for the praise, the likes, and the views on social media.

He was the king of thirst-traps and he would likely find any opportunity to take his clothes off whether in real life or online.

Each time I had heard him talk, it seemed to be either about some kind of hot chick he wanted to bang or a sexual position he wanted to try.

Not even mentioning Jared’s comment about Dylan being this close to doing actual porn and having many of his sex-tapes leaked on campus.

I was hard just thinking about it and my mind was buzzing with ideas for the shooting.

For sure, I would be more daring and I would not hesitate to suggest more provocative poses.

I had some sexy items with me that I was itching to use and Dylan seemed to be the ideal canvas for my art.

Besides, I had learned a thing or two thanks to the last couple shootings.

I felt more comfortable in my ability as a photographer, in the calendar project overall, and regarding how far we could take it.

Coach Bannon himself had taken a look at some of Jared and Miles’ pictures and was very excited with the project.

Nobody seemed to mind the nudity and, on the contrary, the players and the staff were complimenting my work.

Of course, I had not sent the most scandalous pictures to the coach but only a few of the best photographs selected to potentially be part of the official calendar.

Still, I was in their good books.

I was counting the minutes before he would finally park in front of my house but unfortunately, Dylan arrived late.

This was aligned with his reckless personality.

Dylan did not give a fuck about getting naked, but he did not give a fuck about much else either, including being respectful of others.

I suppose this was the other side of the coin that I had to accept in return for having him naked in my garage.

Pros and cons, you know.

I hoped that he was indeed worth the trouble.

When the fuckboy arrived nearly forty minutes after the time we had agreed on, he did not apologize.

In fact, he did not even mention it, as if it was implied that he could do whatever he pleased.

“Hey Gab, what’s up?”

Dylan was talking to me like we were already friends, or “bros” even.

I tried to hide how much of an awkward nerd I really was and I fist-bumped him.

“Hi Dylan, it’s cool you’ve made it.”

“For sure, for sure. I wouldn’t have missed it. So, when do I get naked and pull the anaconda out of these shorts?”

See, the dude was utterly shameless!

Dylan was not wearing that much clothes to begin with.

He was sporting an athletic singlet top that was way too tight for his chest and from which his huge meaty pecs were bursting out of.

I could see his brownish nipples sparkling with sweat as soon as he got out of his car.

My review in a word: yummy!

But I suppose it was his back and shoulders that the athlete wanted to show off the most.

I must say, his back and trapezius muscles in full display were probably the best looking and the largest I had seen in my 26 years of life.

He was wearing a pair of (short) shorts which I was sure he was rocking commando given the prominent cock bouncing underneath the nylon fabric.

That, as well, I could identify before he had even walked inside the house.

The heavy rebound of his visible penis line was tempting me.

A nice bulge, right above his thick and massive thighs…

Once again: yummy!

He was also wearing a pair of sneakers and he had a watch on his wrist but that was about it as far as clothing and accessories went.

Dylan’s style was all about the more skin he showed, the better he felt.

I could not complain, from head to toes, he was a true Muscle God.

“We’re a little late so, yes, maybe we can go to the studio right away?” I suggested.

Dylan took it as the confirmation he needed to get naked, right there.

He removed his way-too-tight tank top as we walked towards the garage.

I had shown him the way and I followed him, hypnotized by his completely uncovered back and his sizable ass (merely covered by the thin fabric of his shorts).

“The boys told me we could use some unused pics from the photo-shoot for our socials?”

He asked, looking around the garage.

“Yes. We have to define some exclusive shots so that the calendar bears some worth, but there’ll be a lot of extra footage I’m happy for you to use.”

“Neat.”

He approached my camera and materials, touching them as if he knew what he was doing.

“Interested in photography?”

“Not really. But people have already told me I should be a model.”

I bet they had!

I did not ask what kind of model he thought he could be though… I had my own idea.

Honestly, I was a bit annoyed that he was messing up with my professional equipment.

It was lucky for him that he was so scandalously hot.

“Modeling is a competitive industry but you certainly have a physique for underwear commercials.”

Immediately and while I said that, I felt the college athlete come alive.

He let go of the camera and turned towards me, a smirk on his hunky face.

Dylan had messy brown hair, but I could tell that it was not natural, but rather that he purposely made it look "messy" as if he had not spent hours fixing it.

“You think so? I could be paid for advertising undies?”

He naturally flexed his abs and his fingers lingered over his very slightly hairy chest.

I suppose that you have to shave to best enhance the muscles…

I say naturally flex because I think it was an instinct for him, every fiber of his being was calling him to show off.

I hate the fact that Dylan was so attractive and that I was falling for his cheap tricks.

But I was.

Cocky hunks can really get away with anything.

"I guess so. You must work out a lot to have this body."

He looked down at himself, assessing a body he already knew in every detail.

“Only way to get these results is to work damn hard. I don’t miss a day at the gym. Most of the boys in the Lacrosse team would die for these pecs.”

He grabbed them.

Yes, his own pecs, and he felt himself in front of me.

I was in awe.

Even with my high expectations, I was still stunned. It was like Dylan was coming straight out those frat boys’ ridiculous porn studios.

How was I supposed to respond to that?

“They…. They’re freaking big, yeah.” I stammered.

His smile only grew wider.

“You find me attractive, right? I mean. You’re into this? My chest, my thighs, everything?”

He spread his legs a little wider apart and flexed his entire body, including his biceps as he put both his hands behind his head.

That had escalated quickly. He had been at my place for less than five minutes!

That being said, I knew what this was all about.

Some straight guys live for the attention that only gay men can give them.

They flirt and fuck with girls, they enjoy watching the chicks fight each other, but women do not have the same way of literally thirsting over a hot male body as gay men do.

For this reason, you would be surprised to know how much narcissistic straight guys get a kick out of turning a gay guy on.

“Who wouldn’t be into this?” I spoke.

“You’re damn right, Gab! I’m doing everything that I can to be a ten out of ten.”

He slapped his own flexed thighs like a proud gorilla during matin season.

Toxic masculinity at its best.

“I have to admit, from a photographer’s standpoint, you’re getting damn close to perfection body-wise.”

“Damn close? What could I do better?”

Good question.

He was already ticking all the boxes.

Should I tell him that a little humility would help? No… I could deal with his arrogance. I did not mind.

In fact, it was exactly what I needed.

"I think we can find some clothes that would enhance your physique even more." I finally said.

I had an idea in mind.

A filthy one, obviously.

“Oh really? What should I do?”

"No offense, but you guys all wear pretty much the same thing. Tank top, shorts, it doesn't help to get noticed."

I knew what I was doing, Dylan lived to be seen and worshipped.

"Fuck. You're damn right, Gab. I don't know how to dress cool."

"For this shoot at least, maybe we can try to do something a little different from what the others have done. We can allow ourselves to think outside the box."

"I'm listening."

He was listening and also casually scratching his balls under his shorts.

Dylan was the ultimate dumb hot jock.

“We could have you strike some poses in sexy out-of-the-box underwear. Just like you would if you were modelling for a brand.”

“That sounds like a dope idea! You know I’m up for anything, man.”

That was music to my ears.

“Take off your shorts and come here then. I’ll show you a few things I have.”

I just had to snap my fingers.

A split second later, Dylan kicked his shorts to the other side of the studio and walked toward me, naked as the day he was born, his dick dangling as he moved.

Fat, veiny, and uncut: just my type.

The balls were a bit disappointing size-wise. Maybe the dude was beating his meat too much.

Or maybe, I was just getting blessed with too many hung guys on the daily lately and I was starting to be picky.

“What are these, boss?”

Once again, Dylan was getting his hands in my bag without waiting for me to show the pairs of underwear to him.

Typical of an entitled brat who had never learned the good manners!

But eh, as I said before, he was doing so while being stark naked, I could not really be mad.

“That’s a pair of jockstraps you’re holding, don’t you wear some for practice?”

“We do sometimes. But I was talking about that.”

He pointed to a black undie on top of the bag.

“Oh, that’s like a tanga but for men.”

“They sell that?”

He grabbed the pair, perplexed.

"Yes. And it actually looks amazing if the model has the body to pull it off. Like, if you want to show off your ass and not wear a g-string like bodybuilders, that's the other best opt..."

"G-strings are freaking ridiculous!" He cut me off.

I hid the ones I had brought further inside the bag.

"I agree, well, if you want to show off your gym progress and prove you're not missing leg days, this is a great compromise."

Dylan held the black tanga in the air, studying it like a scientific discovery.

His confusion was quite funny, but I did not think he realized it, so I did not laugh.

I did not want to make fun of him. His innocence mixed to his raunchiness made him so very special.

"I’m down. Should I try it on?"

"Yes. I think you should definitely try it on!"

"And this is for men, you say?"

"Of course. There's a pouch for your dick right there. There you go! And not only gay men wear them, believe me."

Honestly, I had bought this for myself in a sex shop years ago, thinking I could get some dick on GrindR with this tanga.

It had been a failure at the time, but just then the slutty underwear had come in handy.

It was tight, so Dylan struggled to put it on, but you know me, I was there to help adjust the waistbands, way above his natural line, just to make sure his ass was shown off as much as humanly possible.

“Damn, that feels weird having something rubbing against my hole.”

He turned around to show me.

What a sight!

Suddenly I could not care less about the shoot, his flaccid cock, or anything else, only his bubble muscled ass mattered.

Like two peaches separated by a thin black thread.

The best part? The hair he had failed to trim in his crack, growing out of the strand like a wild forest.

“Wow.” I made an audible gasp.

I regretted it immediately.

“It’s thaaaaat good?!” Dylan exclaimed hysterical.

“I mean, it really does compliment your glutes!”

“Hey! Check this out, bro!”

Using only the power of his thoughts, - and his super-trained muscles -, Dylan made his butt cheeks bounce.

Hypnotizing.

I had to grab my camera and catch a video immediately.

“Keep doing this, man. That’s very cool. Could be a great bonus making off footage!”

“You think this clip could get viral online?”

“Oh yes, that definitely could!”

There, I was not lying.

Personally, I would have paid a lot of money to see those juicy peaches dance for me.

“Amazing. You know I’m trying to build myself an online brand.”

If his brand was skanky as fuck, he was certainly on the right path.

“Don’t stop, Dylan. Keep bouncing that ass! Keep twerking!”

I wanted to slap them. Or rather, kiss them, lick them, bite them!

I wanted to eat that ass for days and smother myself under those pounds of muscle.

I got closer and closer with my camera until I was practically glued to his ass.

Dylan was just having fun teasing me at this point. Until he stopped playing and the show was over.

"What's next, boss? Should we start taking pictures or what?"

I was flustered and could not hide it anymore.

I saw my face in the reflection of one of the cameras; I was red as a tomato.

“Sure. Just… Just get right there, in front of the white background.”

“Cool. And you’re sure that it’s great on the front too? Like, my dick looks big enough?”

He spread his legs, getting more outrageous as the minutes went by, and he made me look at his crotch.

“Certainly big enough, man.”

“Jared’s got a massive dong. Have you seen it?”

Oh yes, I had seen it up-close and personal.

But I would not share this piece of information.

"I'm a professional photographer, I'm used to all shapes and sizes." I deflected.

"And what do you think of my shape?"

Here we were again with this almost pathological need for praising.

I gave it to him.

He was offering me a lot in return. I went all in.

“I think you look like an action movie star. Frankly, I’ve never seen muscles that shredded, large, and defined at the same time.”

I was sending dopamine shots straight to his egotistic brain.

“That’s what I’m talking about! So, I’m more shredded than Miles or Jared?”

“You know you are.”

His satisfied grin was everything.

He flexed his biceps.

“I love the bros but nobody’s got anything on King Dylan!”

Dang. This guy would be making a fortune on these muscle-worship sites and on the financial domination scene, if only he knew how to market himself and put two and two together.

I seriously doubted that he was smart enough to do so though.

No offense, the guy had admitted himself that he was not that bright.

We were definitely not here for that anyway.

I asked Dylan to take a few poses and he proved to be a great model, capturing the light and the attention no matter what he was doing, often, the most ridiculous tricks.

He spanked himself while wearing his tanga and said that this was also for the behind the scenes.

I could tell also that Dylan could not wait to go full nude.

I did have a couple more ideas before that.

“What would you say about striking a more provocative pose?”

“Provocative? What does that mean?”

See, he truly was not the sharpest tool in the box.

“Something a bit scandalous to stand out from the others. Since the underwear is hiding your genitals, I think it’s a great opportunity to do something a bit more daring with the pose without it being censored by the coach.”

“Oh yes, that’s the issue. They will not let anything a bit too saucy go through. The coach is fine but the college board is made of a bunch of prudish frustrated morons!”

“It makes sense they want to protect their reputation but I’m sure we can find the right amount of saucy to make a splash while not being censored by the administration.”

“I like how you think, bro!”

I chuckled.

“Can you get your knees?”

His face changed.

“Uh… I guess.”

“Don’t worry. I’d just like to have a shot where you’re on all fours or like you’re crawling towards someone.”

“Like a dog?”

At least, he had not said a bitch, although, this was sort of what I had in mind.

One thing I liked to do with overly macho and sexually driven men was to put them into a submissive position.

Most were willing to do so for the clouts.

“Don’t think like that. I want you to act like someone about to have sex. As if you were crawling towards a girl…”

“…giving me her wet pussy?!”

“Yes. Something like that.”

There, I had him.

“Nothing new to me, Gab! I eat more pussies than you could imagine!”

“Show me what you can do then!”

An athletic hunk who constantly compares himself to his bro will always accept a challenge.

Dylan effectively got on all fours and he gave me everything I needed… And more.

Some shots were too over-the-top for a college sport team calendar but some others were just the right amount of sexy.

There was this one shot, where he was not looking at the camera, and I could both capture a hint of his ass below the tanga, all the while getting his entire front on the frame.

I was getting good at creating still master pieces!

I showed the preview to Dylan and he seemed to agree.

In all fairness, he loved himself so damn much that I think any picture would have done the job for him.

“Ready for the naked shots?” I asked, already knowing his answer.

He did not even care to reply, he was already sliding down the tanga and freeing his dick.

It looked like it had gotten bigger during the shoot.

Just as they had with Miles a few days earlier, his exhibitionist tendencies did their job of getting Dylan in the mood.

This horny stud may not have known what the word "provocative" meant, but he quickly learned how to put it into practice.

He redid the same “on all fours” pose while being buck naked, and I asked him to turn around for a while until I had photographed him under every possible angle.

His hairy ass crack was to die for in this position and all I was waiting for was for Dylan to spread his big cheeks.

He would have if I had asked, that was a given.

“My knees are starting to hurt, Gab.”

Dang.

I had lost my shot.

It was probably better this way.

“Okay, stand back up and turn back towards me and… Maybe you can spread your legs?”

“Of course, I can boss!”

After his bum, it was only right that I gave some attention to his dick as well.

Sure, he was not Jared, but come on, especially as his semi seemed to be there to last, it was hard… not to get hard at the sight!

We did a few more shots in various positions, keeping in mind that I also wanted to offer Dylan some more pictures for his personal collection.

The shoot was slowly but surely turning pornographic.

When my SD card was full, I went to the kitchen to grab some snacks and drinks.

I also took a couple of minutes for myself. I was way too horny and I stroked my cock discreetly.

Just a few back-and-forth, just a small relief after hours of being rock-hard in my jeans.

I should have never done that. Karma fucked me right after!

When I returned to the shooting, Dylan was scrolling on his phone while fondling with his semi-hard cock.

“Having fun here?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

I so wanted him to stark jerking off in front of me.

I was certain he wanted to do it.

“Shit. That’s Anna texting me. I have to go, or she might get her dicking somewhere else if you know what I mean.”

Since there was absolutely no metaphor or subtilty in what he had just said, I knew exactly what he meant.

Still, he felt the need to be even more specific.

“She’s been leading me on for days but she sent me a DM that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Look!”

He showed me his screen.

I saw a pair of fake boobs and I looked away.

“That means the shooting is over?” I asked, a little bitter.

“We have the pictures we need for the calendar, right?”

“We do.”

“Nice! Well, that was cool. You’re not mad I’m leaving, eh?”

He was being rude but I was being a pervert so, I was not sure which one of us was to blame.

“Of course not. I understand, duty calls.” I winked at him.

“You’ve said it, Gab. And Dylan junior always performs!”

He looked down at his growing cock.

I was disappointed for sure but I tried to hide it.

It served me right for leaving him alone with his phone for too long to stroke my dick.

Trust me, I would be mad against this Anna girl for days though.

Yet, Dylan gave me something worth waiting for.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” I spoke.

“We should see each other pretty soon, right? Didn’t Miles tell you? I’ll also do the July picture.”

“I… No, I didn’t know. I mean, I knew some of you would do a couple of months for the calendar but was it not supposed to be Andrew for July?”

“March is cool but I thought a hotter mouth would suit me even better! Besides, the team agreed we would sell more calendars if it featured a double-dose of the King D.!”

He flexed again.

He was insatiable.

“I bet they did.”

“And by the way, maybe I could clear my schedule so that we could take this picture for the calendar, and then, take some time for a bit more personal stuff afterwards?”

“Personal stuff?”

“For my socials or whatever. See, I may not be too smart, but I know how get famous these days.”

He put his shorts back on as he spoke, but as he said that last part, he grabbed his cock and balls.

Lewdly.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“I guess we could organize a… a more private shoot.”

“No gay shit though!” He laughed.

“I… I was only saying that…”

He gave a pat on my shoulder.

“No sweat. We’re all good. See you next week, Gabbie Boy!”

Five minutes after he was gone, I was nutting a huge load on the black tanga he had left behind.

I took a picture of my sperm coating on the underwear.

It would look great alongside the March picture on the calendar.