My nephew, Tim, visited me in LA during his spring break from college. He's a pleasant, likeable, outgoing kid who makes new friends quickly wherever he goes. He met Paul, an absolutely gorgeous, sweet-natured, young aspiring actor in Venice Beach, one afternoon, and invited him over for a swim. Paul became a regular visitor to my house in Beverly Hills. I'm not one to pry into the sex lives of my sister's kids, but I was pretty sure my nephew and Paul became more than merely friends. I didn't find out if they ever, you know, went there until the following year, but, after my nephew went back east, I went there with Paul. Yes, I went there with him, and I stayed there with him for nearly a month! We had an intense sexual relationship that almost destroyed my life, but I loved every second of it. I've gotten ahead of myself, though. Back to the beginning.

I just loved Paul the moment my nephew brought him through the back gate to my patio and pool area. He had the sweetest disposition, a gorgeous body, and an angelic face. I thought he was great, so I told him he was welcome to come by and swim or just hang out any time he felt like it, even after my nephew went back to college. I was delighted that he took me up on it. He was wonderful company. He immediately caught on to my work versus relaxation rhythms. He never made a peep while I typed away, making revisions on the screenplay I had a tight deadline on. I worked outside on the patio on my laptop on a picnic table near the pool. Paul kept his phone on vibrate and took it inside or out in front of the house to talk whenever his agent called, so as not to disturb me. The only times he distracted me were when he did his calisthenics and stretching. That always slowed my progress because I'd glance up from the laptop often to gaze at him. It is difficult to concentrate on work when one of the most beautiful human beings you've ever seen is stretching and exercising nearby, wearing nothing but a skimpy red bathing suit.

He had the youthful, healthy sort of body that drives me wild. He wasn't a hardcore musclehead, a bodybuilder, a powerlifter, or anything like that. No, he just kept himself in excellent general condition. He was physically fit and had a beautiful, smooth, boyish physique. He was not overly muscular; in fact, he was a little soft. When he was done with his exercises, he'd spend time looking at his phone, checking out audition listings, and texting with friends. After that, he'd usually swim some more to cool off, then sit quietly and read a paperback book. He was always ready to chat, joke around, and have a drink when I took my breaks.

Did I entertain sexual fantasies about him? Well, yeah! Duh! I was alive, wasn't I? He had the sort of looks only the dead could resist. Anyone with a heartbeat would get busy fantasizing sexually when seeing someone so beautiful. Yes, I know some people prefer women to men sexually, but I've also heard lesbians and straight men say things like, "Damn, look at that guy! I wish he was a chick," about young men as beautiful as Paul. So I won't take that pronouncement back. Anyone with a heartbeat would get busy fantasizing sexually when seeing someone as beautiful as him...