I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt

---

There are a lot of 'inspirational' photos drifting my way through my romance connections. I look forward to Man Candy Monday and Hunks Who Read. I rather enjoy straying upon the random day- brightener wearing nothing more than a smile. But here's where I get weird. I try to get into these bare-chested guys' heads. I wonder, "What are they thinking here?"

When they're stripping for one of these photo sessions, they obviously know they're about to be objectified for those pecs, those arms and shoulders, those tight abs. How does that make them feel? Do their biceps start to cramp when holding a certain position for several minutes? When they're told to give the camera a sultry come-to-me look, do thoughts like, 'This is lame,' and 'I feel like an idiot,' drift through their minds?  

Hot book covers really present me with questions. Does this guy mind pulling on a kilt for an hour? How about wearing a wig? Is it awkward being posed with a total stranger in a compromising position? When he's sliding his hand down her bottom could he be wondering, ’Did I put the dog out before I left?’ Is he regretting what he ate for lunch and trying hard not to exhale onion breath in the woman's face? Is he uncomfortable in that leather get-up, holding that whip? Are there pictures he really doesn't want his mother to see?

I suppose this type of modeling is like acting. They're given a wardrobe, or at least props, told how to get into character, and directed. It's a job. Still, I often imagine doing this would demand one heck of a sense of humor. I can totally see the models hamming it up just to alleviate the awkwardness.

"You want me to put my hand where?" he'd ask the photographer.

See what I mean? There's a guaranteed smile after a cheeky question like that.