. . .Never! And that‘s a promise.‘ Upstairs in a small but pleasant and scrupulously neat apartment, Ted pulled the covers off the spare room bed and they stripped and stood facing each other—neither sure how to proceed. You look different without your clothes,‘ Fidel said seriously, forcing himself to lightly touch Ted‘s chest. I thought you'd be fat, but you‘re not, just solid. What do you do?‘ Until last month I was a construction worker—hard yakka but I loved it. The company went belly up so I'm out of work.‘ Like me.‘ A slightly embarrassed pause; Ted wondering how to start; Fidel wondering what on earth had made him offer himself. He had to get it over with before he chickened out. You can touch me if you want.‘ ". . . Read More