The model didn't show up and the photographer is let down. The photographer has always been the eye. There is no beauty in the absence of the observer. The exhibitionist depends on the voyeur for the erotic charge. So who has the power? The model's direct and challenging gaze, the nape of his neck, the freshly-licked pouting lips, the hardening nipples, tensed abs, taut thighs, and the dick that swells not touched, simply responding to being admired and desired. This energy burns through the camera lens to the photographer's eye, and defines his "I": the admirer, the desirer.
But could the photographer be the object of desire? Could he dare to show? Could he find excitement and lust letting a thousand eyes caress his skin, travelling to the most secret places? Did he have the confidence to say "this is me, all I can offer, for you to admire and desire?" His equipment is ready. His photos answer the questions.