Topless Boys

Topless Boys
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drunk and naked, betrunken und nackt

View all All Photos Tagged naked boys

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SmugMug + Flickr .

Connecting people through photography.

Waiting - from Madonna's album 'Erotica'
Pic taken at Sunnys Studio > "Amitie Male Towel Set" - Boys Poses
….get into the jacuzzi with me. I’ve had a long day modelling LisahWear and I need some “me time” Just go into the bedroom and wait. You know what they say? “All good things come to those who wait”.
I promise you. I will be good. When I get out of the jacuzzi, I’ll dry myself with our gorgeous, huge Egyptian cotton towels so that my body tingles all over.
Next, I’ll use that lovely lavender body lotion so that my skin is silky soft to touch when you caress me. Finally, just for you, I’ll spray a touch of your favourite perfume on my neck, across the top of my breasts and a little on my inner thighs to guide your kisses, darling.
Then, and only then, will I slip naked between our beautiful satin sheets for a night of passion and love. I will be hot, darling, very hot. And I want you to be ready, my love.
Make up and photography by the fabulous Cindy Conti at Boys Will Be Girls.
Shot from inside the taxi as I was on my way back to the hotel in Sukhumvit. The heat was getting a little too intense for these young boys....waiting for their turn to take the plunge into the river below.
Boys are found everywhere -- on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket.
for 365, February's Alphabet Fun, and FGR invades Half Naked Standing in Front of a Window Monday.
**ETA: I have a shirt on, boys. Calm yourselves. Tank Top. Out of frame. That's why it qualifies for Fakey Nakey.
Boy warriors from Abangan dashing to the field. They were participating in a performance where they would defend against a demon like character called Ciluluk.
They would end up using the kris (swords) to stab their naked chest. But nothing would harm them as they were protected under spell.
Butt... you said you will not make fun of me !!
We are sitting in an after hours club called "Secret Turf," Larry Talbot and I. It's located deep under the city streets in what looks like a dank cave, carved below the sewer lines. The bartender is a fat balding man with a bad case of perma-scowl. A group of bikers, all bearded, sit at a table drinking some viscous looking red liquid out of chipped goblets. On their backs are patches with "The PACK" emblazoned on them in what looks to be real blood. A couple of women lounge by the jukebox. They look like cats to me...but they keep pumping quarters into the machine, playing Aqua's Barbie Girl over and over again.
For once I am comforted by the six foot eight inch frame of Talbot's manservant/minion Olaf...although even he seems a little ill at ease.
Larry, indifferent to my increasing unease as I come more strongly to feel like an appetizer on a platter, shoves this picture across the table to me...the same image you see above.
"Here," he says. Something about being here makes his voice slightly more guttural. The word emerges as more a growl than a communication.
I look down at the image and back to Larry.
"Tomorrow's image," he says. He beams at me exposing sharp way-too-white teeth.
"You're kidding, right?" I say finally.
"Kidding? I don't kid," says Larry softly. "Your objection?"
I look back at the image and then up at Larry (who is looking just a little bigger at the moment) and open and close my mouth several times.
"Well...yeah. Frankly, Larry -- it's a little creepy."
He chops his hand downward in a dismissive gesture. "It's a doll in a chair. What could be creepy about that?"
"You drew scars on its cheeks...and those eyebrows...and that mouth with teeth."
"Did too," I insist. "And not very well either."
Talbot looks away from me and studies the room. When he speaks his voice is soft. "It is SOOC."
I snort a little too loudly, drawing instant attention from The Pack, Olaf and the cat girls who have started sniffing the air. I half wave to everyone, try hard to smile and clear my throat.
"Larry -- we are not going to have this discussion again. There's no way this is SOOC. YOU drew this crap on the doll and frankly....well...it's a little disturbing. I mean half the people coming to my stream already think I'm loony tunes and--"
Larry makes that chopping motion with his hand again.
The cat girls have started Barbie Girl again and the jolly little beat is so freaking discordant that I have a sudden desire to get out of here.
"And, not only is it SOOC," continues Larry, "But Easy Rider is going to love the story."
He shoves a piece of paper across the table to me. I look at the title: "The Most Underrated Horror Movie of All Time."
I read it and look up at Larry. "You wrote this?" I ask.
"This guy's a dweeb," I say. "What's more --"
Words freeze in my throat. Spit dries up. Larry is suddenly in my face...and I MEAN 'in my face' and his lips are drawn back. He speaks in a low growl: "I was different then. Less than now. Easy Rider will dig the article. POST IT."
So I did. By the way...seeing as it's Halloween and all (gee...funny Larry should show up now, huh) Larry asked me to ask YOU guys...what's the Scariest movie you've ever seen? Here's his:
THE MOST UNDERRATED HORROR MOVIE OF ALL TIME
I am alone. It's midnight. I am watching the most underrated horror movie of all time: "The Fearless Vampire Killers." My popcorn is in front of me. It is untouched. At the jaded age of twelve I sit in a room lit only by the flickering glow of the television and try very hard to tell myself that I always sweat like this.
The film starts like so very many of the Hammer vampire movies that have preceded it: a Heroine with an Enviable and Constantly Heaving Bosom, a Wise Old Man who knows more than he is telling, the Passionate Young Man and of course the Eternal Vampire.
At the beginning of the movie I am chomping on popcorn and enjoying the characters. One of the supporting vampires reminds me of Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof which is a concept just creepy enough to produce its own delicious icicle-in-the-gut thrill.
I am contemplating the happy possibility that Sharon Tate (she of the Enviable and Constantly Heaving Bosom) may actually get naked at some point, when IT happens.
Film director Roman Polanski starts breaking the rules.
These vampires are coarse, more like animals. There's no trilling of strings as the vampire creeps slowly toward his cringing victim. Polanski's vampires are at home with their brutality. They take blood from humans with a jolly and thoroughly casual attitude that puts me in mind of a wholesome family tucking into a tasty pizza. They attack necks with a happy matter-of-fact chomping and are completely indifferent to the abject agony their feeding causes the victim.
Some of these vampires come out during the day.
They are unimpressed by anyone brandishing a cross.
Yikes! Vampire movies have rules, I think to myself. You don't mess with the rules! Once the movie is over, how are twelve year old boys expected to make the long dark trek down darkened hallways to the safety of their beds if there are no rules?
But there's one scene that stays with me still and This Scene is the reason I KNOW this movie didn’t deserved the critical drubbing it got upon its release in 1967.
Here's the background: our heroes have been captured by the vampires. (Of course. Even a twelve year old saw that coming.) They have been taken to a creepy castle where it has been decided that Sharon Tate is going to be offered up as a main course at a vampire banquet.
They escape – but along the way they wind up in the banquet hall. I mean IN THE banquet hall. Surrounded by vampires. Hundreds of them. None of these vampires know their dinner is walking among them. If they are actually going to get away, our heroes need to pass through this teeming sea of fanged death undetected. There's a macabre minuet. There's harpsichord music. All the while our heroes are surrounded by nasty bloodsuckers casually doing unspeakable things.
I am breathless, trapped in the horror of it all. My entire world is focused on the television screen and I feel a slow creeping dread. Even Sharon Tate's bosom doesn't distract me. As they move through the room, surrounded by horror after horror, there looms a mirror. The only people reflected in this mirror in a room FULL of vampires are our heroes.
Yikes! I think. What's the matter with you people? Can't you see the MIRROR??? Don't you know that if the vampires see you in the mirror they will know you're human and will tear you to pieces? As I think this dark and urgent thought, one of the characters notes the presence of the mirror with shock. He elbows his companion sharply, and points. He sees it! He knows that the mirror could give them away.
Thank you, God. I nearly collapse with relief. The characters can hear me. Good. Maybe they/we will survive this night after all.
That's when something wet brushes against my neck and everything in my chest plummets directly and immediately into my ankles. My head is throbbing with sudden shock and I cannot breathe.
My leaden hand shoots backward and touches something furry as air squeaks out of me. It is a tortured sound. I whirl to face my attacker.
It's the family dog looking confused and sort of tired.
I collapse, blood throbbing in my ears, and it is some seconds before I find any humor in the situation.
The movie's almost over. The heroes are galloping away from the Creepy Castle. But Polanski has just one more surprise in store. It's a surprise that will rob me of that reassuring sense that all is well with the world because the monster's dead.
It turns out the monster isn't dead.
No one was sure exactly where the legs had come from... just that they had somehow ended up here... suspended from one side of the window, limp and lacy, like half a pair of drapes.
Sister Margaret found them first. Or at least that was the official story. Many had their doubts, since the window where the legs appeared was in the boys' dormitory.
Some found it difficult to fathom that the boys could have slept through... not just the legs' arrival, but their nearly naked presence. Sister Margaret thought at first it was some kind of prank. Parts from an old dressmaker's dummy. But the feet were intricately boned and veined and muscled in ways that could only be genuine.
And yet the legs, when Sister Margaret pushed them aside to let in more light, were not warm. Nor were they pliable. And when she tried to take them down, she found they were so heavy that, against her better judgment, she was forced to ask the boys' assistance. Some of them, the more devout, refused to even touch the legs. But a few of the badass boys volunteered... as much for the chance to grope female flesh as to score a few points with the Sister... and even they, inexperienced and strange to the whole idea of flesh as they were... were entirely unmoved by the experience. So, too, were the legs.
Sister Margaret called in reinforcements and cleared the boys' dormitory. Four of the school's sturdiest nuns then tried, in unison, to clear the legs from the window. But the legs wouldn't budge. They just hung there, clad in lace, twisting in the pale light. And over the weeks to come they would resist every effort to remove them - from those of the exorcist to those of the carpenter who tried to remove the window itself from the wall, but found his saw so thick with lacy cobwebs that it would not cut.
Finally the nuns agreed the legs must be a sign from God. A sign that it was time to relocate the boys' dorm. And so they moved it, clear across the school, and left this room to the legs and the spiders.
The school has been closed now for more than 40 years. The boys are presumably long grown up and the old nuns have moved into retirement, or died, or... rather late in life, discovered the pleasures of other women, swapping Jesus for Sappho.
No one much cares about the legs any more, or even sees them for that matter. They hang at the window in the long-empty boys' dorm... glowing faintly, gathering dust, a testatment to the undeniable existence of the truly inexplicable.
im thinking seriously about coming back to where i started with photography: the streets!!!
i will stop doing things in studio for a while... and for a change...
Agropastoralità con Priscilla , autrice di scatti e sorrisi.
swimming in the ocean, they got all embarassed when they saw me sitting on the beach
Children having each other company in Baseco village.
I took this momment at tidung island - indonesia
Young kids at Tekai, Usku village, Kabupaten Keerom, Papua province, Indonesia
走在禾木河边，远处传来少年嬉笑玩耍的声音，举目看去，几个男孩正在浅滩上游泳玩闹
Horm Tuva Village, Aletai, Xinjiang, China
my naked friends playing in the river
Group photo before departing for Moni.
Bye bye..and I hope none of them that I know involved in the tragedy on the next day :-(
Again and again this Flores boy having fun diving into the river.
Nothing says fun like getting together with some of your closest buds and running around in loincloths. For a culture that is supposedly built on modesty and reserve, no one beats the Japanese for coming up with excuses to get naked ...
BDAY BOYS butt naked at Banahaw Skimboarding Site, Surigao City.
I found this statue in one of the small towns that the Trans-Siberian Express stops at on the way from Moscow to Mongolia. I think it represents a kind of Russian version of the Biscuit Game.
Theres no stopping these kids from indulging in a trash infested baywalk shore. Some of them doesnt even have extra clothes to wear, swimming naked covering their privys as they run around diving and pulling out stunts. Most ironically, they came with some girls along. Some smoking cigarettes and talks liberated. I'd bet they're around 10-15 years old.
Saidaiji naked man festival - boys attempt to grab some mochi before the main event.
boys playing in water. little boys will usually go naked and are seen all over. little girls rarely get out to play like this. if they do, they are usually fully dressed.
Esto si que es arte, con un toque de naturaleza!!
All Rights Reserved © 2008 Malaysia
Photo, Post Processing & Direction: Me
Sorry guys, i have to post two of it because i dont know which one is my favourite cuz both are! Stay tuned for more, imma post all of them soon!
sea gypsy boys running in the sea, Rawai Beach, Thailand
Two young boys look toward the lake at the edge of the water. One is a nudist boy. He squats and only his back and the side are shown. This beach is not a nudist beach, and he was the only nudist I saw on that day. The other boy is wearing a tee shirt and pants and is sitting on the log separating the sandy beach and the water.

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