Stefan

Gentlemen prefer blondes.

That's what they say, isn't it?

Well, in that case I can say - without any possible doubt - that I'm no gentleman.

But I just can't help it.

I've always liked darker boys.

Jet black hair turns me wild.

Dark brown eyes are so sexy.

A brilliant flash of white teeth against dark skin makes me so hot.

My ideal, I guess, is a small, tough, hot Latino street kid.

I'm putty in the hands - or even the mouth! - of a Carlos, Miguel or José.

Straight from the barrio.

Blonde boys, on the other hand, do nothing for me at all. To me they invariably seem pale, washed-out looking, insipid and sexless.

Suburban.

I know that hundreds of you guys out there will think I'm mad… But there you go, we're all different, aren't we?

Take blonde boy Stefan, for example.

Whenever that one visits our local gay club the guys are virtually queuing up to buy him drinks and get talking to him. It's not surprising. He's a really sweet kid, as well as an undeniable beauty and as horny as any typical 18 year old - but it just so happens that, I as said, his type just doesn't appeal to me at all.

So when he asked me to take the shots for an internet porn site photoshoot and subsequently arrived at my studio one evening last week, there was, from my point of view at least, more electricity in my camera's battery pack than in the air.

But I soon began to suspect that that wasn't the case on Stefan's side.

So I'd better make it plain too that I'm no saint.

I'm as professional as the next photographer - but I'm only human too, after all.

There've been plenty of occasions when a hot boy has come on to me in the studio - or I've come on to him - and we've gone on to have a real good time together right there and then.

But there was no way that anything was going to happen with Stefan.

No matter how hard he tried.

And he did.

To be fair, he was very good at it too.

You'd swear he was just following my advice to "make love to the camera".

It was only if you could see through the lens that you'd be forced to agree that he was really trying to make love to me.

Just take a look at his eyes as he slipped off his shirt, for instance.

Or the way he turned his back to tease me as he began loosening his pants.

And then try to persuade me that he wasn't trying to get me to take mine off too!

Unlike most of the models I've worked with, Stefan needed no direction at all. Everything you see here was his idea, not mine.

He'd probably say that he was copying stuff from poses he'd seen on the internet.

But I think he was using on me the skills he'd perfected in real life.

Unfortunately for him, though, even these perfected skills weren't going to work on a tough cookie like me.

I guess that, by the end of our session, Stefan had worked himself up so much that he just had to shoot his load.

Even I have to admit that it was a pretty spectacular climax to the evening in every sense.

Afterwards he quickly got dressed.

And, as soon as the camera was packed away, so was the friendly, sexy mask.

He was obviously angry - with me for not responding to him and with himself for, I guess, humiliating himself in front of me.

I suppose I ought to have felt a little guilty - not because of the way I'd rejected his advances but because I hadn't offered to show him out.

But then, as I've already pointed out and you've no doubt already agreed, I'm certainly no gentleman.