2. 2

Chapter 2

 It must have been around my fourteenth birthday that something horrible happened to change my mind from wanting to be a detective and pushed me in the direction of becoming a therapist.

   I can still remember it as though it was yesterday It was a Saturday and I was still following grandma about. My job back then was to note down everything grandma put in the big handbag she carried around with her and report back to my Dad when he came home from work.

   Dad had this understanding with the local shops that anything Grandma who was a compulsive thief took, he would either return or if damaged he would pay for it.

   Grandma had entered the bookshop the one just passed the hairdressers in the high street. As usual I had positioned myself outside to watch her through the plate glass window. That’s when I had seen this boy apparently from my school reach up and take a pornographic magazine from the top shelf of the newspaper display unit. He then stuffed it down the back of his trousers and covered it with his shirt, and walked out.

   For some reason this had excited me. Being good at drawing, I had quickly done a sketch in my note book of the tattoo I had glimpsed when he lifted his shirt to hide the stolen magazine.

   At school the following day in the changing room which we shared with other classes. I had been caught looking for the tattoo. I was accused by one of the older boys of being a faggot, a shirt lifter and a bum boy after he had grabbed my note book and seen the sketch I had done of the boy in the bookshop showing the tattoo on his backside.

   Later I met up with William in between classes. Thankfully, he had already heard about the incident in the changing room. While we walked down the corridor a boy shouted out, “Bums to the wall boys, here come the queers.”

   William always ready with a quick reply called back, “If your bum is as pimply as your face, you needn’t worry. I wouldn’t want to catch anything.”   

   This made everyone laugh except for the boy who had shouted out. His face turned a bright red with embarrassment.

   It still amazes me now to think that one episode in my past life would trigger such a change in my whole personality.

   After the incident in the changing room I desperately needed to get a girlfriend, if only to prove to everyone that I wasn’t queer.

   However, I had a problem I was shy and found it difficult to talk to girls without getting red faced and tongue tied which was so embarrassing.

   Yet I had to overcome this hurdle, but how, was the question.


   Somehow Dad had found out about the incident in the changing room and, after asking a few questions and seeing my sketch of the boy’s backside with the tattoo on it, he had explained to me why someone might think I was queer. Apparently, my sketch was too suggestive, in fact, boarding on erotic. Maybe the older boy, who had reacted badly, could have identified something in the sketch that had queried his own sexuality, and so had struck out by calling me names.

   This I found most interesting and thought, maybe by using my talent for drawing, I could control other people’s emotions. So as an experiment I did a sketch of big breasted Betty, who sat two desks over from mine.

   Instead of being happy when I presented her with my sketch, Betty had shown her annoyance by crumpling up the sheet of paper it was drawn on and then slapping my face, this was not the reaction I was expecting.


   Once again, I had consulted Dad, who had laughed when I told him about big breasted Betty’s reaction. After seeing my crumpled up sketch, he suggested that I redraw it but this time in a more flattering pose.


   The next day in class I deposited my redrawn sketch on BBB’s desk without stopping just in case she slapped me again, which was embarrassing enough once but twice would have been another thing.

   Looking over at BBB from the safety of my desk, I could tell she liked my sketch because she was all smiles and showing it to her friends. Amazingly, Dad had been right.


    Wow to say life was an adventure of discovery was certainly true BBB let me kiss her and feel her breasts the only problem was I got so excited that I embarrassed myself by getting hard.


   A few days later at school a couple of the older boys decided to pick on me again.

   “What you got there one of them asked snatching my sketch pad expecting to see more boy porn instead he disappointingly found a copy of my sketch showing BBB.' 


  Big breasted Betty was my first girlfriend. She was great to be with and taught me how to dance amongst other things. Unfortunately, sex wise she would not go all the way. However, I did learn a lot about how girls react and think. Funnily enough I still have the copy of that sketch I made of her posing for me top half naked.      


   Then there was Susan the teaser. She really turned me on. Frustratingly she was all promise and show only allowing me to sketch her totally naked, so in the end we broke up.

   Next came Patricia who certainly went all the way and actually taught me a great deal about girls and sex.  


   Armed with all this information about girls and the reaction of fellow students to them still thinking I was a queer, I progressed. Unfortunately, this stigma of me being gay was to followed me throughout my school life. which was so untrue and most unpleasant? 


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