Naked Hero - The Journey Away

in his eye that promised so much, as did the bulge in his trousers. Big and hunky was very much Lewis’s type and he wanted to know if that tan was all over. The scowl didn’t happen when the big hunk approached, and it was smiles all the way when they started to chat and it appeared that the guy didn’t know who Lewis was. With a few more vodkas down his throat Lewis decided to take a chance, and he found out about the tan during three fun packed hours back at the big hunk’s apartment where the guy handsomely delivered against those promises on more than one occasion!
    It was almost 3 a.m. when Lewis finally got back to his hotel room, and he was far from amused to find Jim Murdoch sitting there, waiting for him with a storm on his face. He was even less amused at the inevitable bollocking that included the shattering news that he was due to play tennis in a few hours time.
    Not surprisingly, his play that day was woeful and Lewis was soundly beaten by a player he should have thrashed. The jeers from the crowd as he left the court rounded his afternoon off nicely. There was some speculation in the press that he had actually lost the match deliberately - tanked it, in order to move on to Melbourne and focus on the Australian Open. Not a very likely scenario, but players had been known to tank in the past. Whatever - the organisers in Sydney were far from happy with him and demanded an explanation for the lacklustre performance.
    They got one the following day, but not from Lewis. It was the Daily Herald that came up with all the answers, by running a story under the headline: MY NIGHT OF STEAMY SEX WITH WIMBLEDON CHAMP!
    It was Jim who brought the good news to Lewis in his hotel room. Thrusting the paper into his hands , the cantankerous older Scotsman actually looked quite pleased with himself for the first time in several months. When Lewis read the article, it was clear that a lot of embellishments had been made, which was nothing new where the tennis player was concerned, but there could be no denying the central truths, over which the good people of Sydney, and the following morning Britain, would gleefully eat their breakfast.
    A first round loss and his name back in the dirt – questions being raised about his commitment to the sport – it was hardly the best preparation for the Grand Slam that lay ahead. Sadly it was a good reflection on the state of Lewis’s life, for those questions on commitment rang frighteningly true – certainly truer than a golden tanned hunk who knew how to screw in a whole variety of ways.
    Chantal Duboir looked at her friend in exasperation, her face betraying the frustration that she felt over a talent that had gone astray, and behaviour that would make her own flag bearing role all the more difficult to conduct. “It wasn’t the schedule that caused the problem, Lewis. It’s what you did. You have to appreciate that or you’ll be forever landing in trouble.”
    “Yes, I know it,” replied Lewis , keen to move the subject on. He got enough lecturing from Jim without Chantal chipping in. “Where as you... you went and found yourself a beautiful girlfriend, and I’m jealous as hell. Where’s she gone by the way?”
    “Off flirting probably,” Chantal said with a smile. “But she comes back.”
    “Always?”
    “Yes, always.”
    Lewis smiled in return, pleased for her certainty. “That’s good. And I mean it... I’m jealous as all hell.”
    Chantal reached out and touched his arm. “You will find someone, Lewis - someone who will make you happy again. But I do not think that he is waiting for you in a bar… Anyway, we are getting too serious! Perhaps he is here! What do you think of the men in white trunks? Will the style catch on and appear at Wimbledon? I’m sure it would improve the viewing figures!”
    Lewis laughed - glad to have some light relief. “It won’t catch on sadly, but I think they look fabulous! The one with the red hair is a bit over the top for my liking, but the rest look great. Though somehow… I don’t believe that they’re candidates for a deep and meaningful relationship. So no, I think it best I stay well clear of the men in white trunks, and then maybe I can keep out of the tabloids before going to Melbourne.”
    “When will you leave?”
    “I’m staying in Sydney for few more days. We’re booked here through to Sunday - a bit optimistic as it turns out, but that’s the plan. Jim thinks we should be there already. He’s