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It was late one Saturday afternoon in July. The heat of the day had sent me looking for shelter from the sun. I was lying out by the pool enjoying my naked flesh being bronzed but knew I needed to get out of the rays for a little while. I suddenly realized that I had to have a brew and without pulling my trunks back on I walked into the house and up the stairs to the kitchen. I was just enjoying my nudity because I was home alone, or so I thought. Chris was supposed to be at work. He had moved in with me about 2 months earlier and we had been getting along just fine. He knew I was gay and I knew he was straight. I had not seen any sign of interest in him as far as a man was concerned.

He didn't have a steady girl and I was wondering if he even had a social life. I had invited him to dinner twice and he had politely refused. The last time he had even been bold enough to explain that he in no way wanted anyone to think of him as queer. I have always been very straight acting. Not just because I like it that way but also because I do not particularly like effiminate men myself. Not that I am prejudiced or anything. I just have always been turned on by straight guys who enjoy straight guys. Know what I mean?

Anyway, I wasn't expecting to find Chris standing with the fridge open when I turned the corner into the kitchen. I didn't have anything to hide behind and there I was. I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he was not interested. He seemed to be telling me with his eyes that he thought I needed to get some clothes on pronto. Although we ...

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