Date: Sun, 25 Jul 2021 18:20:15 +0000
From: GeorgiaGuy2 GeorgiaGuy2 <georgiaguy2@hotmail.com>
Subject: That Special Time in Paris

That Special Time In Paris

This is a memoir of a special trip to Europe I took between my junior and
senior years in high school.  Nearly everything in it really happened,
including the descriptions of the place I stayed in in Paris and the
sleeping and bathing arrangements there, as well as the other guys I shared
them with. The made up parts are the sexy parts you probably really want to
read. I put them in to spice things up, and I think they're really
hot. They didn't happen, but they should have.  Real sexy stuff more than
likely did go on on that trip, but not to me.

I spent most of the summer I was 17 in 1974 on a six week long European
study tour. It was a great trip during which I learned a lot about history,
art, and culture, as well as an awful lot about other people, both good and
bad.  I had led a sheltered childhood with loving parents who raised me in
a religious household in a small Southern town. I was very bright but
didn't know much about the world.  When my 11th grade English teacher
announced she was recruiting students to go on a European trip I was very
excited because I really wanted to travel and I really enjoyed her as a
teacher. Looking back on it I think my parents must have been very uneasy
about letting me go, especially with her, but eventually they decided to
trust my intelligence and good judgment and hope for the best. They also
knew that I had little knowledge about the way other people lived and
acted, and that it would be a good idea for me to know more about that
before I entered college and then adulthood.

As it turned out one girl a year younger than me and I were the only
students from my high school who signed up to go.  There was another girl a
year younger and then two other girls a year older than me whose families
all knew the teacher, who lived in a larger city near my small town, who
also signed up to go.  Then the study tour company organizing the trip
added a boy from another Southern state who had signed up to go but didn't
have a teacher sponsor to our specific little group. Our group was going to
fly to New York and there meet up with about 60 other students and their
teacher/supervisors at JFK airport and fly off to our first stop, London,
on a chartered jet with several hundred other students and teachers
traveling with the same company.

I was nervous and very shy about traveling with strangers but I was also
really excited about going.  My parents remained leery about sending me but
again, were willing to trust my good judgment.  The night we left everyone
gathered at the airport to see us off.  My mother pulled me aside and told
me that I was going to be around a lot of people and that they were going
to be different from what I was used to, but to remember who I was and what
I knew was right. So I told my parents and sister goodbye and then boarded
the plane to New York. It was scary, particularly as the teacher was fouler
mouthed than I had ever heard her before, and she and the three girls she
knew were all drinking alcohol. The girls weren't of legal age but it was
the mid 1970s and attitudes about that were looser then.  I was not a
drinker and didn't care for it, in fact had never been around it, so that
took some getting used to.  We took the red eye flight to JFK, arrived
early in the morning, then took a taxi into Manhattan and spent a lot of
the day walking up and down Fifth Avenue seeing the sights.  We returned to
the airport that afternoon where hundreds of kids and adults were
gathering, and met up with other members of the specific tour group we were
going to be traveling with.  The boy who had been assigned to our group met
us there.  His name was Charles, and he was a pleasant, good looking fellow
a couple of months older than me. He was also shy and soft spoken, so I
figured we would get along well.

The plane was packed full and very noisy. Again there was a lot of
drinking, including by a lot of underage kids whom no one seemed too
concerned about.  I minded my own business, met and made a few friends
among the group we were going to travel with, spent some time talking to
Charles especially since we would inevitably be spending a lot of time with
each other, and tried to get some sleep. Naturally everyone was very jet
lagged by the next morning when we landed at Gatwick..  At least I had the
advantage of not being hung over like a lot of the kids and their
teachers. We made it off the plane, went through Customs, and then finally
our group boarded two buses to be taken to our first stop, a college
outside of London where we would be staying while in England.

By this time I was beginning to get an idea of who all the other kids and
their teachers were.  Besides my little group of Southerners there was a
large group of boys who all attended a Catholic military school in another
Southern state, their teacher and his wife, along with some girls from that
same city who, like Charles in my group, had signed up to go on the trip
without having a teacher counselor of their own.  There were other kids
along from the Midwest and a good sized group of Californians, mostly one
family with seven kids ranging in age from 19 to 10 who were traveling with
both parents, and they were all Catholic as well. Until then I had never
known any Catholics, and there were also several Jewish kids, and that was
also new to me. Mostly everyone was pretty friendly and nice, but there
were some wild sorts along too. The teacher counselors were a motley group
as well, mostly fairly young and not all that concerned about whether
drinking laws or other legal niceties were strictly followed.  I had to get
used to all the drinking. I refused to drink myself, which made me stand
out and seem weird to the others, but I was independent and determined
enough to stand my ground, a trait which has lasted all my life and which
has kept me out of a lot of trouble over the years.



I was and am very bright, and I was probably one of if not the most
intellectual kids on that trip. I loved history and already knew a lot
about British and European history.  There were a few other kids, including
a couple of girls with whom I became good friends, who were also on my
intelligence level, but most of the other kids were good, average to above
average types who got along well with everyone.  A couple of the boys from
the Catholic military school already had serious drinking and drug
problems, but mostly everyone else was, if not teetotal, at least temperate
in their alcohol consumption.  Some of the teacher counselors seemed to
have issues with substance abuse as well, including the teacher from my
school, but it was something you just learned to ignore as best you could.
Sexually speaking there was some stuff happening as well, probably not as
much as rumors among the guys I heard it from had it, but nevertheless some
of the girls and older guys got reputations for being ready to put out.
Some of the teacher counselors weren't particularly moral, either, though I
hoped then and still hope now that the rumors about some of their behavior
with the students were just that, rumors.



The trip was a lot of fun and very busy. It was as it was advertised, a
study tour, and we had teachers along who doubled as guides.  They would
hold lectures to tell us about what we were going to be seeing, and we all
had written assignments and reports to make.  We would leave our lodgings
early in the mornings and usually be gone all day taking buses to see
sites.  I really enjoyed seeing London and other parts of England, and then
sailing on an overnight ferry to Denmark where we spent some time on the
outskirts of Copenhagen touring that city and the surrounding area.  Then
we took an overnight train that went through Germany and Belgium into
France, arriving in Paris the next morning. That's where some really
special stuff happened with me and some of the other boys on the trip, as
you'll soon see.

Up until now we had stayed on college campuses in England and Denmark where
we were lodged in single rooms with baths attached.  Of course on the ferry
and the train we had shared quarters, but we didn't change out of our day
clothes during the nights either time.  Paris was a different story.  Most
of our group was lodged in a large student hostel, but there wasn't room
for all of us there, so my subgroup and the subgroup which included the
boys from the Catholic military school and part of another subgroup were
all sent to what was called the "Annexe," an old hotel on a side street
near the hostel. Things were pretty basic there.  There were eight boys
from the Catholic school and then Charles and me from our sub group, so we
were all assigned to share one big room on the first floor (it had
originally been the hotel dining room) that was filled with ten cots, with
little partitions between them to make a pretense of some privacy. There
was a large restroom next to that room, with about five toilets in open
stalls and a long trough type urinal. The only shower facilities were
upstairs, where there was one big shower room with nozzles sticking out
from the walls with no partitions or curtains.  Also upstairs was another
large room where the four girls from my subgroup and the three or four
girls who were in the subgroup with the Catholic school guys were lodged,
another restroom, and a couple of smaller rooms with private baths.  My
teacher-counselor had one and the Catholic school teacher and his wife took
the other.

Since bathing facilities and space in general were limited the teacher
counselors got together and planned a schedule.  We boys from downstairs
were informed that our time in the showers was strictly limited to thirty
minutes at 6:30 in the mornings and that we had to get in there and wash up
fast and then be back downstairs before the girls were allowed their turn.
The teacher counselors would be very watchful.  (Later that year, in the
fall when we were back in school in Georgia, my teacher told me that she
had spent most of the trip worried sick that the two eighteen year old
girls would come back home pregnant.  Those girls weren't really interested
in any of the boys on the trip, what they were after were some of the male
European guides and other foreign guys we'd meet while traveling.)

The ten of us who were to share that large room were quite an assortment.
I was one of the five oldest guys in the room, but due to how my birthday
fell I was the youngest of the five. The oldest of us all was Randy, who
was 18 and had just graduated from that Catholic school. He was a nice guy,
tall and dark haired, a natural leader who had been the head cadet at the
school his senior year. Then there were the other 17 year olds, starting
with Carey, who was the incoming head cadet for his senior year that would
start that fall. He was another mature and cool headed fellow, a bit
shorter than the norm but with an air that made him leadership
potential. He had longish brown hair with sideburns, which was pretty racy
for a guy from a conservative school like that in those days. The other
guys from the military school treated Randy and Carey both pretty
respectfully, and while Charles and I didn't come from that school
background we instinctively liked them as well and looked up to them. Joe
was another 17 year old from that school, also tall and dark haired and a
bit paler skinned than Randy and Carey, a nice friendly and a bit goofy
guy. Then there was my group mate Charles, who was medium height with blond
hair and bright blue eyes. The girls on the trip all thought he was really
cute and he came in for some teasing because of that, but he handled it
well.  Then there was me, tall, skinny, a little awkward, dark haired and
eyed with pale skin, smart but shy.



The other five guys in the room were all from the Catholic school and all
15 or 16. Bobby and Chip were the two boys with the substance abuse
issues. They spent a lot of time drinking, and rumor had it that they had
bought some pot from some of the students at the British university we had
stayed at and smoked it. I don't know if that was true but it was
believable.  It was a shame because they were both good looking guys and
pretty smart, too, but their issues were taking control of them.  Jesse was
the only Black guy on the trip, a very artistic and talented guy who was
also quite handsome.  And Greg and Patrick were both decent and handsome
fellows with good minds and friendly outlooks.  Greg was dark haired and
probably the shortest of the ten of us, while Patrick was a little taller
and fairer skinned with dark blond hair.

So we arrived in Paris and settled in during the afternoon (it was Bastille
Day, as I recall) and the group of us in the Annexe walked up to the main
building to eat dinner and have one of our lecture meetings on what we were
going to see in Paris over the next week.  After that was over it was dark,
and the Catholic school group walked back to the Annexe, but my
teacher-counselor held her group back for some extra talk and instructions.
So by the time our group made its way back to the Annexe the other guys had
been there for some time, and it was getting pretty late in the evening.

Charles and I walked into the room we shared with the others, which was
loud and active.  The other eight fellows had already gotten ready to hit
the hay by stripping down to their undershorts.  As I said earlier until
now we had had private sleeping quarters and I had slept in pajamas as was
my usual custom, but when I saw what the others were planning to sleep in I
decided to go along because it sounded like fun.  Charles and I took off
our outer clothes and walked around in our shorts like the others.  I, like
Charles and most of the others, wore white jockey type shorts. Carey wore
boxer shorts which added to his air of authority, but he was the only one
who did that. The other guys, being from an all boys school, were naturally
curious about the girls on the trip, and after Charles and I stripped down
to our underwear the other guys wanted to talk about the girls who were in
our subgroup, especially the two older ones who were obviously
"experienced." Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) we couldn't tell them
much because they had made it clear that they considered us too young for
them. But even so there was plenty of guy talk and laughter and male
bonding going on between all of us, nothing overtly sexual but lots of
insinuating stuff.



The Catholic school teacher counselor came down to the room sometime
shortly before midnight and warned us that we had a long day ahead of us
and to hit the hay.  He was hardly what you'd expect from the phrase
"Catholic military school teacher." He was young with long hair to his
shoulders, parted in the middle, with a sort of dazed look much of the time
which probably indicated some substance abuse issues of his own.  The guys
who were with him all said he wasn't much use as a teacher but that he was
patient and not at all strict.  His wife who was traveling with him
actually handled more of the discipline issues for that sub group, as a
matter of fact.

So as we were getting ready to go to bed Randy and Carey called Charles and
me over to one side. They told us that all the guys in their group had
agreed to start up what was evidently a tradition at their school.  A
tradition that took place in the school showers and that involved some fun
activity. A circle jerk, in other words.  That term was a new one to me and
possibly to Charles as well, but it was one we both found intriguing. Carey
finished up with "Just to let you know that'll be going on tomorrow morning
in the showers, so if you're thinking of jerking off tonight, you might as
well wait." The other guys were keeping an eye on the conversation between
the four of us, and they chuckled to see Charles and my expressions, a
mixture of embarrassment and excitement.

Now as it happened I had not masturbated at all since the beginning of the
trip.  There had been too much excitement and too much going on and very
little private time, and with all the new experiences and seeing new things
and meeting new people I really hadn't felt the urge to do so.  Of course I
don't know about Charles since I hadn't roomed with him before, but my
guess is that if he had jerked off at all on the trip, it hadn't been
often. That also seemed to be the case with the rest of the guys, all of
whom seemed highly excited.

So after hearing all that and realizing the implications we all had to go
to bed.  I know my penis had taken on some weight what with all the joking
around and especially after my "conference" with Randy and Carey, and
Charles' shorts also looked a little fuller than they had earlier, as did
those of most of the other guys as we rolled into bed and the lights went
out.

You'd think that what we'd just heard would have kept us from sleeping, but
being tired after a long day and after spending the night before trying but
failing to sleep much on the train, we were all pretty exhausted and fell
asleep fairly quickly.  There was some snoring and one or two of the guys
were sleep talkers, but all in all it was a good night.



We were jogged awake by a loud bell and the over head lights coming on
early the next morning.  Knowing that our shower time was coming up we
scrambled out of bed. I saw that the other guys were pulling off their
shorts and wrapping their towels around their middles, so I did the same.
We left the room and trooped into the next door restroom where we jostled
for room at the long trough urinal, taking off our towels and draping them
on our shoulders while we emptied our bladders.  That was fun, reminiscent
for me of PE classes at my high school where there was a similar urinal in
the gym showers. It was another bonding experience to be naked and standing
pissing beside other pissing naked guys.  After we took care of our
bladders we trooped upstairs to the shower room, towels back around our
waists and with some manly joshing and kidding around.

The shower room was large with ornate tile work, nozzles around the walls
on all four sides with drains underneath, and a larger drain in the center
of the room. We all took places under the nozzles and turned on the water,
which ran first cold, then hot, then gradually settled down somewhere in
the middle. I soaped and shampooed, standing by Charles on one side and
Greg on the other.  The first few minutes were pretty basic and devoted to
washing and cleaning on your own, with some loud talking as well. But then,
with our hygiene issues taken care of, the fun part began in earnest.  I
noticed Greg and some of the other guys had stepped away from their
showers, leaving them on. I looked over at Charles and we stepped away too,
joining the others in an irregular circle around the larger central
drain. In preparation for what was to come everyone's dicks were
lengthening and pumping themselves upright.  I could feel mine doing the
same thing. It was embarrassing but fun, too, with everyone watching
everyone else. It was enjoyable to see other guys' equipment, and to see
their eyes on your crotch in turn gave me, and probably everyone else, some
nice tingles.



We were ten healthy young teenagers. No one was overweight and everyone was
well along with adolescence, meaning we all had hairy crotches and
developed penises that looked more than capable of delivering sperm to
vaginas or, in this case, to the floor of the bathroom.  Being 17 I was one
of the hairier guys, with a good covering over my chest and abdomen, with a
hairy crotch and thighs and legs to match.  Randy and the other 17 year
olds were fairly hairy as well, though Charles' was blond and didn't show
up very well. The 15 and 16 year olds had less, though Jesse, Greg, and
Chip all showed promise of hairy chests in their near futures.  Because the
Catholic school guys were all heavily athletically trained they had good
tight bodies that were well defined in their chests and abdomens.  I could
see quite a few of their asses and those were tight as well. Neither
Charles nor I was as physically fit, but we were in pretty decent shape
nevertheless with some muscle tone, even though neither of us could have
been mistaken for athletes.  The other big difference between Charles and
me and the Catholic guys was that several of them wore crosses or
medallions with saints' pictures around their necks.  That was new to me
but it didn't make much difference.



It was interesting to see the different penises. At my high school back
home I was almost unique in the school by being one of the few circumcised
males, and that had caused me a fair amount of confusion in the gym
showers, especially because neither my parents nor my doctors had ever
bothered to explain to me that I was indeed circumcised, or what being
circumcised actually meant.  All I knew was that my penis looked different
from the other guys' in my gym classes.  They all had extra skin on their
dicks that I didn't have, and my glans was fully exposed whereas theirs'
were usually covered.  This had puzzled me for several years, but since I
had stopped taking PE after my sophomore year it had been over a year since
I had showered with anyone else. Now I was reminded once again that my
penis was different from some other penises. I was relieved, however, as I
stroked myself and looked at everyone else stroking themselves, to see that
quite a few of the other guys had the same kind of dick I did. It was a
relief to know I wasn't unique in the world for the first time, and it made
jerking and stroking even more pleasurable. I really can't remember who was
the winner in the penis size contest, though I do know it wasn't me.  Randy
was pretty dominant and so were Joe and Bobby, but no one pulled out
measuring tape or anything so the final winner was left up in the air.
Everyone's penis worked well and did the jobs of being urine and sperm
shooters without problems, and that was the important thing.

Being in a circle jerk with guys who were used to the process was fun and
instructive. As we stood in a rough semi-circle working away we panted and
moaned and some of us muttered some profanity. Occasionally someone reached
over and touched another guy's shaft or head, and he then got felt back in
return. Joe did that to me, briefly, and I returned the favor, and Charles
and I also exchanged a stroke or two. It didn't take long before all the
stroking had its desired effect. I don't remember who shot first but it was
one of the younger guys, maybe Bobby or Jesse, but whoever it was was the
catalyst for the rest of us.  When I came it was a huge surge of several
shots (remember I hadn't relieved myself sexually in nearly three weeks)
that cause some laughter and applause from some of the others. As a guy
finished shooting and began to relax he'd step back, slap his neighboring
asses and anyone else's that he wanted to, then grabbed his towel and began
to dry off. That was another new, and fun experience for me. I made sure I
gave Charles, Greg, and Randy good slaps, and I know I got some from Joe,
Jesse, and Chip at least.



Carey was the last guy to shoot, which seemed fitting since he was head
cadet, and after he did he grabbed one of the nozzles and aimed it at the
center so that all the pools of white juice would be sure to wash down the
drain.  We were all drying off and talking loudly about how good we felt
when the male teacher stuck his head in the door and told us to clear out
in five minutes.  We wrapped our towels around waists and trooped back
downstairs, laughing and carrying on, and went about the process of
dressing.  The post-ejaculation need to urinate hit and our first stop was
back in the restroom for the urinal trough.  Most of us visited one of the
toilet stalls as well to take care of shitting too. Those of us who were
shaving regularly grabbed our gear from the room and took it into the
restroom, where there were several sinks with mirrors.  At home I used an
electric shaver, but because of the differences in current in Europe I had
brought a safety razor and soap with me from home.  I shaved that morning
knowing that I probably wouldn't have to for another couple of days.  The
other older guys were daily or near daily shavers too, and while we were in
Paris all using that restroom one or two of the younger guys also shaved
once or twice.



We got dressed and spent some more time in our room waiting for the girls
to finish up.  We could hear the showers running again upstairs and that
led to some ribald commentary about what they didn't know had gone on
earlier up there.  Finally the girls and the adults came trooping
downstairs and we all walked out in the early Paris morning to head up to
the main building for breakfast and another busy day.



So that was the first morning in Paris and it went very, very, well indeed.
The ten of us guys split up in our sub groups and spent the day riding tour
buses being taken to Notre Dame and the other major tourist places, then we
had a walking tour of some of the older Parisian neighborhoods, then a full
group meeting where we had some lessons about other things we were going to
be seeing in Paris, then had dinner and after that returned to our
hotel. The camaraderie amongst the ten of us was pretty strong now that we
had all seen each other in our most erotic states, and we stripped down to
our shorts and hung about for a couple of hours or so again until the
Catholic teacher counselor stuck his head in to warn us to get to bed.  We
talked a lot about our schools.  Charles and I being from public coed high
schools had had very different experiences from the Catholic school guys.
I could tell that their curriculum was tougher than mine had been, and I
felt a little inferior and jealous, because being challenged academically
was not something I had ever experienced in my schools.  This was many
years before the scandals about sex abuse by Catholic priests broke wide
open.  None of the guys from that school ever let on that anything of the
sort had happened to them, that's all I can say.

The next morning the routine was the same and just as exciting and we
finished up our showers with another circle jerk.  We circulated amongst
each other and traded dick feels, ass slaps, nipple pinches, and other fun
stuff once again.  The day itself went the same way as well and we stayed
busy until that evening, when we had some more guy time in our room in our
shorts.

But the third morning in Paris something changed.  Apparently, even though
we had all kept our mouths shut about our little post-shower activity, some
of the adults had caught on.  When we all made our towel wearing march
upstairs to the showers we were startled to see that the Catholic school
teacher counselor came in the room after us with his own towel on. Without
a word he took it off and started one of the showers on one side of the
room.  This put a kink in our plans and we settled down to showering in a
much quieter atmosphere than the preceding two mornings. It was a more
crowded atmosphere, too, since no one wanted to be close to the teacher so
his side of the room was empty except for him.  The teacher said nothing,
just washed and shampooed himself, but he stayed in there with us the whole
time we were there.  Naturally we couldn't bring ourselves to do our circle
jerk with an adult present, even one as young and incompetent as the guy
had shown himself to be, so when we finished up and dried off we just
wrapped our towels around ourselves and headed back downstairs, grumbling a
little among ourselves.



So the rest of that day was a little less relaxed and spirited now that the
sexual relief we had gotten accustomed to over the past two days was denied
to us. We continued to stay busy but we missed our morning fun time a
lot. When evening came and we were back in the room we stripped down as
usual to our shorts and hung about until the teacher counselor once again
stuck his head in to tell us lights out.  Lights were out, but something
different went on afterwards.

After we were officially supposed to be asleep in the dark room I was soon
aware of some movements around the room, accompanied by whispering and
snickers. I was already in bed and stretched out, but not yet asleep. While
I was listening to the odd activities and wondering what was going on
Charles suddenly appeared at my bedside. In the dark I could see that he
was naked, holding his shorts in one hand. Moreover, I could also see that
he was hard. "Sit up!" he whispered. I did so, and he sat down beside me on
my bed, snapping the elastic of my shorts as he did so. "Take those off ,"
he said, and I caught on at last to what all the activity was about. I
slipped my shorts off and dropped them on the floor, next to where Charles
had dropped his, and we sat and gave each other a good feel up, massaging
our chests, thighs, and finally our genitals, leading to an exchange of
strokes and jacking, sitting close enough to each other that our legs and
arms rubbed against each other.  From what we could hear elsewhere in the
rook similar things were going on with the others.  It didn't take long
before we both were shooting. We took tissues and cleaned ourselves up,
then headed to the restroom for a quick piss.  Several of the other guys
were already in there doing the same thing.



The next day was a repeat of the third.  Once again the Catholic school
teacher counselor joined us in the showers, effectively putting a stop to
our morning enjoyment, and once again we had a busy day. That evening the
same thing happened: after lights out there was more visiting and mutual
masturbation. This time I was a bit more proactive. While I liked Charles a
lot and while he had demonstrated that he was a good jerk buddy, I wanted a
little variety.  Apparently so did he, so there were no hard feelings
(though plenty of hard dicks.) I took my shorts off and walked around the
room, where shadowy figures were close together in various combinations.
Eventually I ended up with Joe and had a good time with him, joined half
way through by Randy. It was enjoyable in the extreme,

That was the last full day we had in Paris. That afternoon late we packed
and loaded our luggage into the buses to be taken to the train station,
where we were to take an overnight train to Venice, passing through
Switzerland on the way. I was assigned to a compartment with five other
guys, none of them my former Paris roomies. Once again we slept in our
clothes and had a wakeful night, though seeing the Alps by moonlight as we
passed through was a wonderful sight.



For the rest of that trip we were in Italy, going from Venice to Florence
and finally Rome.  I was assigned to different rooms with different
roommates each time, but none of them were Charles or any of the Catholic
school boys. From observing how the room assignments were made, it looked
as if there had been a concerted effort by the faculty members to split up
the ten of us who had had such a great time in Paris.  Randy and Carey, as
senior cadets, were always assigned to room with Bobby and Chip, probably
in order to try to keep the younger guys' drug and alcohol use to a
minimum.  I did well with the new roommates I had each time, which included
a few of the Jewish guys and some of the Californians and
Midwesterners. Once again we shared shower times and were naked together,
but there wasn't the same spirit of camaraderie and nothing sexual took
place. I did notice that the Jewish guys all had penises that looked like
mine, but I never put two and two together and realized that that meant I
was circumcised.  I was smart but I could be dense at times. No one among
my new roommates expressed a desire to circle jerk or otherwise experience
some sexual enjoyment, and I was definitely too shy and retiring to express
such a desire myself. In fact, for the remaining two and half weeks of the
trip I once again went through a period of no masturbation.  Whether or not
any of the other guys from the Paris room also went through such a period
of restraint, I have no way of knowing since we never discussed the
issue. Some of my other roommates may have jerked themselves off at night
under the sheets of their beds or in other private locations like a
bathroom stall, but if they did they kept it to themselves.

When the trip was at an end we flew back to New York from Rome, once again
on a crowded chartered jet, and after going through Customs at JFK we said
our good byes and promised to keep in touch. I did with some of them, girls
and guys both.  For me I actually flew on to Washington DC where I met my
parents and sister who were making a vacation trip of their own.  I was
actually in the capital the night Nixon resigned, which was quite exciting.



It's been many years since that magical summer but I still rate it as one
of the highlights of my life.  I retained the roster with addresses of
everyone who was on the trip and used it to refresh my memories over the
years. With the magic of the Internet and some good research skills of my
own I've actually been able to run down and locate some of the people I
traveled with that summer.  Of the ten of us who were in that Paris room
and had such a good time eight are still living, Charles and Chip having
passed on.  The rest of us have gone on with our lives and done well, a
couple spectacularly well, so much so that you might well recognize them if
I told you any more about them, so I won't.  I haven't gotten in contact
with any of the other seven from that Paris room, preferring to leave well
enough alone, but I treasure the memories of them, and I hope they remember
me as well.