Johns story

to be or not to be gay


1. 1


Chapter 1




   Fuck it! I’m so frustrated, I’m still a virgin. All my mates say they’ve done it. My current girlfriend, Sue, got me all worked up last night and then she wouldn’t let me get my leg over. She says she doesn’t want to get pregnant even though I produced the rubber my friend George gave me.

   “Well John?” George asked me as I entered the classroom. Naturally I smiled and lied by giving him the thumbs up, before he could ask for details our instructor came in with our work assignments for the day.

   There were four of us engineering apprentices working for a manufacturer who made parts for the car industry. It was a funny set up. The factory was built on the side of a hill and had three levels; in the bottom area they assembled the finished articles, then packed and dispatched them by lorry. The middle level was where they produced the parts. The top level was where the raw materials were delivered. In-between each level there were many gantries that gave access to all the floors.

    It wasn’t until lunchtime that I met up with George again. He and Terry, another of our group, were discussing something about a watcher. 

    Almost before I could sit down George was again asking me, “Well what happened?  Tell us all the gory details.” Fuck it! I thought, my face feeling hot with embarrassment. So, Terry also knows.  Playing for time I sat down.

   Then looking up into George eyes I said, “Later, I’ll tell you later. Okay.” Then hoping to change the subject from my sex life, I asked, “So, what’s this about a watcher?”



    After seeing John’s face turn a bright red colour with embarrassment when I playfully asked about his sex life and then his look and plea for me to change the subject, I stopped teasing him. I explained to him I had noticed that high up on one of the gantries there was this boy watching me. while I was working on the middle floor production line Apparently, it was the same boy we had encounter checking us out when we were given the grand tour of the building on our very first day there.




   I was not happy my job was making sure to keep the production running smoothly not to nursemaid engineering apprentices. When they were given the tour of the factory they looked to me to like a bunch of young boys wearing safety hats, nicely pressed school trousers with of all thing’s soft shoes.  The powers that be wanted me to look out for them as I walked around the place as an extra safety net to make sure they didn’t come to any harm.


   Once again out on the production  floor, looking up I saw the boy watching us I decided to have some fun. So, calling to Terry over the noise of the machinery, “Don’t look now the queer is watching us. Let’s give him a show”. Together we had then acted very camp and pretended to feel each other up. By the time we finished the boy had gone.




   Even though George and Terry’s camp show had made me laugh, to be honest I felt uneasy. It was no joking matter to have some pervert watching me.

   Over the next few days whenever I looked up at the gantry, there he was watching. George and the others just laughed it off but for some reason I got really paranoid about it. To the extent, if I wanted to blow my nose or even scratch my arse, I would hide behind something so as not to be seen. It got so bad that I had to do something.  I had to confront the watcher. The very next time I saw the pervert looking through the gap where the upper floor overhung the lower, I took a short cut to gain quick access to the top floor enabling me to get to a position just above where the boy was standing.  I was on a mission so, not thinking, I rushed down the ramp only to find I couldn’t stop before making body contact. This caused the boy to start falling over the edge. I grabbed the boy’s flaying arms in a desperate attempt to prevent him from going over.

   Thank goodness, he was not that heavy. So I was able, with a great deal of effort, to save him.

   To say I was shocked by what had nearly happened was to put it mildly. All thought of confrontation had now gone. Instead in its place I felt guilty and thankful that I had saved the life I had almost caused the death of.  

    What made things worse was that the boy whose name was Bill, kept on thanking me, and telling everyone, to my embarrassment, that I was a hero because I had saved his life.


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