He never wanted his boyfriend in the picture.
Blurb:
Casey McKinney works as the trusted assistant to an international superstar erotica photographer, slaving away at his menial tasks while his boss, Lowell Truss, photographs the gorgeous models in graphic positions before bedding them. All Casey can do is watch with envy although he has a boyfriend, Dallas, waiting at home and he’s even sexier than any of the guys Truss shoots. But Dallas is struggling to make it as a model and he thinks posing for Truss is the ideal way to get exposure, especially as he would feature in a documentary about the famed photographer currently being filmed. Casey and Dallas have founded their relationship on fidelity and, even though Dallas swears he could withstand the ugly old bastard’s advances, Casey knows better than anyone the power of celebrity, as well as Dallas’s ruthless ambition. If Dallas goes ahead with his plan, their relationship is over.
Ebook ID: 5112_1222
lyd Category: Men-4-Men
Length: 56 pdf Pages / 8722 words
Rating: 5
Formats Available: pdf, prc, lit, zipped html,
lrf, epub, RB,
Ebook Cover Price: $2.99
Excerpt:
The movie was a huge success, unusual for a documentary, even one devoted to the stellar career of the world’s greatest living photographer. That would be Lowell Truss. His iconic images adorned the walls of the world’s greatest art galleries and museums, as well as the walls of the incredibly rich and unbelievably famous. They also adorned the walls, in poster form, of countless gay boy residences; for Lowell Truss was the most famous purveyor of photographic male erotica the world has ever seen.
Of course, the documentary shattered box office records because it was a warts and all portrayal of the man, the genius, and the unorthodox methods he used to create his incredible works of all-male art. If photography had been a Renaissance art, Truss would have been the equal of Michelangelo.
I didn’t care whether the film was a success or not, or that it had been nominated for so many cultural awards including an Oscar. I could have seen the notorious film when it was first released months back to brouhaha about its graphic images of gay male sexuality, but I’d preferred to wait until my head was in a more tranquil space before I could bring myself to visit that part of my life again. You see, I had…
“Excuse me,” the voice called as I hurried across the cinema foyer, eager to sneak away.
I made the mistake of stopping. An attractive young twink, obviously collegiate and nerdy if his clothes and spectacles were anything to go by, bore down on me, his eyes shining with the reverential glow of a fan boy.
“You’re Casey McKinney, aren’t you? I just saw you in that film about Lowell Truss. You were wonderful,” he gushed, then wondering if he’d said the wrong thing because of my lack of warmth, “You are wonderful. Much better looking in the flesh.”
My lips curled into a semi-smile at the flattery. I knew what the guy wanted. It’s what they all wanted when they found out who I am or, rather, who I worked for. They saw me as a stepping stone. After all, I worked for the aforementioned Lowell Truss, a man who had power over men’s futures. He could make, sometimes break, a career. When it came to the firmament of male stars, he was God.
If Lowell Truss chose you as a photographic model, you could pick your own career: fashion model, actor, television personality, anything at all that relied on beauty without necessarily having any substance to back it up. All his boys went on to lucrative careers – only their own self-indulgence, be it drugs, alcohol or sexual excess, brought them down.
No one’s reputation was tarnished either as a result of modeling for Truss even though it was the worst kept secret that gay sex was the extra ingredient that made his photos the works of art they undoubtedly are. Therefore, I was inured to young models who saw me as a short-cut into Truss’s studio and superstardom.
Only one problem: Lowell Truss never used models who were sent to him or recommended by other people. He eschewed the plastic pretty boys that strutted the fashion catwalks of Milan, or who threw their drug fucked bodies about in bars and at rave parties, or whose movie smiles were as false as their straightened teeth. He had an uncanny knack for finding the right men on the street, in cafés, in all walks of life when they were just being themselves. Those men, totally unschooled in the ways of manufactured beauty ruined by the sneer of superiority, were the ones he sought. So, you’ll understand why I said coldly to the young man in the cinema foyer, “I can’t help you. He chooses his own models. If I were to introduce you, you would stand no chance at all. Besides, it’s in my contract that I am forbidden to introduce anyone to him except those people who have to do with his business.”
I turned to walk away, hoping that had put an end to the young man’s foolishness. I stopped when I heard him laugh, turning to face him when he said, “Look at me. Do I look like the kind of man who has delusions that he could pose for a man who photographs the most beautiful men on the planet?”
He smiled as I gave him the once over, examining him now as I would a fine piece of sirloin at the butcher’s. No, a quick scan of his features and what I could ascertain of his body beneath his ill-fitting clothes, he would not make the short-list, even though there was something appealing in his off-kilter plainness. I had seen Lowell’s photos transform an ordinary-looking individual into a work of beauty, but I knew this young man was beyond even his Pygmalion powers...
Author Bio:
Barry Lowe is notorious for his Lowe-Life column which scandalized Sydney when it appeared fortnightly in a Sydney bar newspaper in the 1980s. It led to fame, fortune and easy lays (well infamy at any rate and the occasional not-so-easy lay, the fortune never arrived) so he has spent the last couple of decades writing gay sex comedies for stage as well numerous erotica stories under his own and various pseudonyms, plus his more recent autobiographical weekly column in Sydney’s SX magazine. He is the author of the novels The More the Merrier: Gay Gangbang Erotica; Romancing the Bone: Gay Romance Erotica; The Gravy Train, The Major and The Miners, and Busting Billy’s Butt. He has also written a biography of Hollywood legend, Mamie Van Doren, Atomic Blonde, for McFarland Press. He lives in Sydney with his partner, Wally.
Check out his website at www.barrylowe.net
