I already knew I was gay but hadn’t accepted it. I had crushes on friends and knew what attracted my attention at school, on the beach, on the street, at my tennis club, etc.

I remember when I was about 19 and had changed tennis clubs. I arrived early one Saturday and Ashley, a pretty blond boy probably a couple of years older than me and a country boy, asked if I would like to go out to a court and hit.

“Sure” I replied. He hit the ball okay, was a nice guy and yeah, very easy on the eyes.

We played on a back court that bordered the neighbouring house. The fence was not particularly high and it was covered in a flowering creeper.

As luck would have it, a ball flew over the fence at Ash’s end so he promptly scaled the fence and retrieved it. Upon his return to the court, he swiftly removed his shirt to shake out the twigs, leaves and flowers that had managed to find their way under it.

OH MY GOD! He had the body of an Adonis (how had I not noticed before?). I had never really noticed much about him, or the physique of guys like him, but on this day, the site of him in just his tennis shorts hit me like a lightning bolt.

Nothing happened between us (he was probably a straight boy anyway) and we were never close or anything. I saw him quite a few more times over the season but soon left the town for work and by the time I returned some years later he had moved on.

Although he was a nice guy and fit beyond belief, it was more the site of his abdominals and his chest that flawed me that day. I had never really been affected in such a way by the site of a semi-clad man. This was the definitive proof that a woman could NEVER flaw me in the same way.

Ashley, if you are reading this and you recognise yourself, thank you. You were the final proof I needed.

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