“Are you sure it’s on? I can’t see the little red light.”

“I’m sure.” I peered at Dan’s hazy, naked form through the video camera’s viewfinder. Slowly, the lens auto-focused on his lean, pale body, crystallizing his image to perfect clarity. “Oh yeah. It’s on,” I slurred as I zoomed in on the half-hard tube of flesh lying against the inside of his left thigh.

Dan adjusted his position on the bed, raising his upper body up on his elbows while curling his feet and toes into my thick, fluffy, golden brown down comforter. “I’m nervous,” he admitted sheepishly, biting at his lower lip and casting his eyes to the side.

“Don’t be,” I hushed him. “No one is going to see this but me and you. Come on, we talked about this.” I looked up from behind the camera to meet his eyes with my own. “You promised.”

And Dan had promised. If I took two weeks off from work this summer so that the two of us could go on an Alaskan cruise, then he would let me make the sex tape I’d been bugging him about for the last year and a half. I had held up my end of the deal. We spent the second half of August soaking up the sights and sounds of the great white north from the comfort of a luxury cruise liner. Now we were home. My Sony digicam was in hand. The curtains were drawn and the candles were lit. And I had Dan, nude, on the bed, ready to do whatever the director instructed.

Part of me felt a little guilty. I knew he wasn’t enjoying this, at least not nearly as much as I was. But I figured this was very likely my only opportunity to get him on film, so I decided to push back that guilt and make the best damn video I could.

“Lay back down.” I directed him, and Dan complied, taking his elbows out from under himself and folding his arms behind his head as he lay back down against the mound of pillows next to the strong, oak headboard. He had a coy smile on his lips, but a troubled look in his eyes. The combination was incredibly enticing. His soft, cinnamon-brown curls were mussed about on top of his head, fanning out somewhat behind him where the back of his head met the pillow. I zoomed in on his smooth, high-boned cheeks and traced the camera’s lens along his jawline, before sweeping up to focus on his thick, rosy, pillowy lips.

I continued my survey of the scene, scrutinizing every contour of his shape with the camera’s lens. Capturing his small, but well-defined pecs and the subtle showing of his ribcage underneath the stretched skin of his exposed lats. Continuing down his body, I followed the furry trail of dark, fuzzy hair that lined from his navel to his groin, stretching out into a patch of well-groomed pubic hair where the delta of his genitals formed. His slender prick was still resting wanly against his thigh. I knew Dan wasn’t yet turned on by this experience, otherwise that pole of his would have rocketed to attention in the way that only his youth could allow.

I didn’t hesitate on his cock; I kept the camera moving. Following his thighs down past his broad, knobby knees, I catalogued the curve of his calves, the bumps and protrusions of ankles, and the splayed digits of his feet.