MYKONOS, 1985 – In early September 1985, I spent a week on vacation in Mykonos. Early in the week, I spied a handsome, muscular, blond young man on clothing-optional Super Paradise Beach and started chatting with him. His name was Gary Matthews and he was a Welsh hair stylist visiting from London. Fortunately, the attraction was mutual and, within a brief time, we were enclosed in each other’s arms on my beach towel. By the late afternoon, we were on the ferry back to Mykonos town together. And, at dusk, we were making love on my patio overlooking the Aegean, as the sun slowly sank over the horizon.