It was a normal day photographing an upscale home for a realtor client. The house was large and modern in a nicely landscaped yard, complete with a waterfall pool and hot tub. The agent told me the house was empty, the homeowner was in the city.
In the driveway was a new blue Porsche, a high-end model that fit well with the house. I wondered why the owner, a single man, left it in the driveway and not in one of four garages. I finished the exterior photography and went to the side door where the combination key lock was located. Entering the code I had the key in hand, unlocked the door, and entered.
The house was quiet. I appreciate it when a client trusts me to photograph alone, preferring the move around the house at my own pace without the realtor hovering nearby.
Finishing on the first floor, I head upstairs, and as I move down the hall, I hear the shower running. This has happened once before when the owner was unexpectedly home. I knew the realtor told the homeowner I was coming, but this was going to be awkward.
The master bedroom door was closed, so I found some paper and wrote a note, apologizing and letting the man know I was in his house. I slid the note under the door and headed back downstairs. A moment later, I heard him call out my name, and as I came back up the stairs, he had a towel wrapped around his waist, and hair and body wet from the shower.
He stood there dripping water on his expensive floor, a man similar in age, with grey hair, a nice build, and confident enough to stand in front of a stranger wrapped in a towel. He apologized to me, saying he forgot that I was coming and mentioned he would be getting dressed and that I could work around him.
He turned, and I hesitated, watching him walk back into the Master suite.
He must have sensed my stare and dropped the towel and turned around, smiling.
I turned away at that moment and then looked back, he was still standing naked in the hallway.
He said, noticing my embarrassment, “You can begin shooting here in the Master Suite if you’d like.” He stood there, smiling, and confident. My cock was getting hard, seeing this nice-looking man still dripping wet and naked.
To add fuel to the warm fire, he invited me to take his photo, and I did not hesitate. Fully nude, with wet hair and skin standing confidently in the hall, I took his photo. He beckoned me to follow him, and I did.
He walked back into the huge bathroom and invited me to join him in his large shower setup, shower heads everywhere. He entered the shower and fired up all the jets, inviting me to take another photo. Standing in the shower, stroking his ever-growing cock, I took another picture.
Then, I joined him, placing the camera on the counter and undressing. He asked if I had a self-timer and suggested a picture of the two of us. I love taking nude selfies, so I quickly adjusted the camera and hurried into the shower, and just as the camera took the photo, his hand was stroking my cock.
Once in the large shower, he adjusted the shower controls and now all the jets were pulsing water. He finally introduced himself and I did likewise. Tom turned his attention to my cock and begin stroking with both hands, covered in soap. I instinctively reached for the soap and begin to stroke his large full cock. We kissed, deeply and passionately, as if I had known Tom for years, not minutes. Before he knelt, he adjusted to lights, all from the control panel, and begin to lick and kiss my hard cock.