Capturing the Dick Pic of My Dreams
A Frank Picasso story (my sort of pen name) Reader discretion advised
When I first set up an account on an adult website, I seriously considered posting a dick pic featuring my healthy, rock-hard, throbbing erection. It was, and still is, all the rage, as it were. However, at the time, I did not own a digital camera. And I was rather reluctant to ask a friend to photograph this particular region of my anatomy.
So it was off to the Sears Photo Center!
“Hello!” the very friendly female photographer greeted me cheerfully upon my arrival. “How may I assist you today?”
“Hello!” I announced eagerly. “I am here to have my picture taken.”
“I see,” she said. “And do you have an appointment?”
“No,” I replied. “Should I have made one?”
“It’s always a good idea,” she explained, casting her eyes over the empty waiting area. “However, it does not appear that we’re all that busy at the moment, so I think I can squeeze you in.”
“Squeeze me in?” I asked somewhat surprised. “My! This is, indeed, a full-service photo center. However, as tempting as that sounds, I find I must politely decline your sexual advances.”
“I wasn’t making any sexual advances,” she explained.
“I see,” I countered. “Well, then, allow me to apologize for making that incorrect assumption.”
“I accept your apology!” she stated. “No harm done, sir!”
“Excellent! Now, about that picture . . .”
Yes,” she said. “Where is the rest of your party?”
“My party?” I asked quizzically. “There is no party, per say. This will be a solo shoot. I shall not be posing in any sort of group dynamic today.”
“You only want pictures of yourself? Alone?”
“Of course.” I stated with a slight chuckle. “Why? Do you get a lot of groups?”
“Indeed we do, sir,” she replied. “In fact, we specialize in groups. Families too”
“Families?” I asked now disgusted. “I must take exception to such immoral activities, and also to the suggestion that you would condone such a thing. I find it offensive and disgusting.”
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, sir,” she said confused. “Does this mean you do not wish to continue pursuing your photo session at this time?”
“Not at all,” I remarked. “However, I would greatly appreciate your refraining from further mention of family photo shoots. I’m personally against such things.”
“No problem,” she agreed. “Now, will you be purchasing a complete package for today’s session?”
“A package?”
“Yes,” she continued. “We offer wallet size, 5x7s, 8x10s, and even larger prints suitable for framing. Are you planning on sending some prints out with your holiday greeting cards?”
“No,” I replied. “I was not planning on sending these particular photos out to friends and family come the holidays, for I do not feel that it would be appropriate to do so. Nor have I considered the possibility of hanging a framed portrait of myself above the fireplace. And no, I won’t be purchasing a package.”
“You won’t?”
“No. In fact, I’ll only need one photograph at this time, and I will require no prints whatsoever of said photograph. I would ask only that you email me the picture so that I might post it on a website.”
“You want me to take just one picture and then email it to you?”
“Yes.”
“I see,” she said somewhat perplexed.
“You can do that, can’t you?” I asked now unsure if she was up to the task. “I mean, this is a professional photo center, is it not?”
“It is, indeed,” she conceded. “Why, of course we can do that for you, sir! Absolutely!”
“Well, good then.”
“Now,” she continued, pulling out a binder filled with samplings of various scenery, “let’s have a look through this binder filled with samplings of various scenery in order to determine which backdrop you’d like for your picture, shall we?”
“Backdrop?” I asked puzzled.
“Certainly.” she said. “You’ll be posing in front of a green screen, but you may choose any one of several dozen different backdrops, which will serve as scenery for your photograph. We’ll edit the backdrop in later.”
“I hadn’t considered scenery,” I confessed, “but upon further reflection, I think it might accentuate the shot rather nicely. Let’s have a look.”
She then proceeded to leaf through the binder, showing me the selection of backdrops from which I could choose. As she turned the pages of the binder, I attempted to visualize my erect penis against the backdrop of a forest, a mountain spring, a sun-drenched cornfield, a lakeside cottage, a partly cloudy blue sky and a cactus-strewn desert. Nothing really seemed to jump out at me until she reached the Star Wars theme. Why, it was perfect! TIE fighters and X-wing spacecraft, battling it out in a star-filled spacescape while the Death Star loomed menacingly in the background. I could just picture my throbbing cock set against this backdrop like some magnificent rocket ship or something, blasting off to save the universe from the evil alliance!
“That’s the one!” I cried triumphantly. “Why, it’s just perfect for me!”
“The Star Wars theme? Really?”
“Yes!” I insisted emphatically. “That’s the one for me! I can just feel it in my bones somehow!”
“Okay,” she sighed, motioning toward a chair, which sat before a green screen. “Why don’t you have a seat over there while I prepare for your shot?”
As I made my way toward the chair, she took her place at the tripod, which held a rather sizable camera with an enormous flash. As I studied the chair, I began to wonder how she was going to obtain the proper angle for the shot.
“Are you sure about the chair?” I asked. “Perhaps a table might be more appropriate for this particular photograph. That way, I could lie on my back, and you’d be able to capture the moment more efficiently.”
“No,” she replied, making a few final adjustments to her equipment. “The chair will do just fine.”
I shrugged my shoulders, figuring she was the expert, and I began to undress. When I was completely naked, I took my place on the chair and began masturbating rather vigorously so that I could sport a proper erection when she was ready to take the shot. Unfortunately, I was unable to achieve the desired form, and, although I valiantly attempted to stroke myself into an aroused state, I was simply unsuccessful and remained tragically flaccid. How disappointing.
“Okay, I think I’m ready here,” she said, glancing up from her camera. “WHOA!! What are you doing???”
“I’m sorry, miss,” I grunted. “I’m trying, but I just can’t seem to obtain an erection. Give me a few moments, won’t you? Do you have a selection of porn available? Where are your fluffers?”
“Please get dressed, sir!” she exclaimed with utter disdain. “This is entirely inappropriate and unacceptable behavior! Why are you naked and masturbating?”
“I’m trying to get in the mood for my dick pic,” I explained, still trying to concentrate on rising to the occasion. “But you appear to be of no assistance in this endeavor. Don’t you have a staff of fluffers to assist me in this endeavor?”
“No!” she shouted angrily. “We do not take penis pictures here at the Sears Photo Center, nor do we maintain a staff of fluffers! Now, please get dressed at once or I shall be forced to have you physically removed from the premises!”
“Now this is, indeed, an unfortunate development to say the least,” I said dismayed. “I thought that this was a full-service photo center. This is rather unsettling to me.”
But just then, my penis inexplicably sprang to life! I leaped from the chair, positioned my erection in front of the green screen, and bellowed, “I’ve got it! Quick! Take the shot! I’m ready!”
The photographer, however, did not take the shot. Instead, she ran over to the telephone intercom, which was stationed on her desk, and promptly called for security. As I stood before the green screen, erection still intact and in hand, I begged and pleaded with her to take the shot, but to no avail; she continued to refuse. As the moments passed, my penis gradually returned to its limp state, and I stood there disconcerted at having failed in my attempt to capture the dick pic of my dreams.
Finally, two rather burly gentlemen, whom I correctly surmised were security personnel, showed up in order to escort me out. They each grabbed a shoulder and proceeded to drag me toward the exit, hurling me through the door and out into the parking lot.
“And stay out!” one of them shouted as the other tossed my clothing through the doorway, landing on top of my head.
Disappointed beyond words, I collected my clothes, got dressed right there in the parking lot amidst shocked, horrified and gawking onlookers, and made my way toward my vehicle in order to depart. As I drove off, I reasoned reflectively that perhaps my dick pic was, in fact, not meant to be.
I guess you could say that it simply wasn’t in the stars.