During my freshman year at Augustana College, I declared a major in English and Modern Languages and registered for advanced Spanish and French. So when I had the opportunity to spend a quarter abroad during my sophomore year, you'd expect me to pick Spain or France, right?
No -- Germany.
It wasn't my fault. I was taking first-year German, too, and the professor kept rhapsodizing over his trips to Germany: Munich, the Black Forest, the Rhine, Neuschwanstein Castle, Wittenberg, where Martin Luther nailed 95 Theses on the cathedral door.
So I started packing for Germany. Six Augie students flew from Chicago to Frankfurt on August 19th, and then took the train south to the university town of Regensburg.
We all took Intensive German and The Protestant Reformation, and for my elective I chose German Myths and Legends. Classes met in the morning, so we had the afternoons free for sightseeing, and there were weekend trips to Augsburg, Munich, and Salzburg.
I had just "figured it out" a year before, and, I didn't know how to meet gay people. I didn't realize that Regensburg had several gay bars, or that Munich, an hour away by train, had a gay neighborhood full of bars, restaurants, bath houses, and community organizations. So it took me awhile to find a boyfriend, sort of
Regensburg was predominantly Catholic, so I overcome my early religious training about Catholics being evil! evil! evil! and toured all the churches. I even went to Mass at St. Peter's Cathedral -- don't tell the preacher -- where I heard the famous boys' choir, the Domspatzen.
There were about 80 members, mostly little kids, but in the back row I saw some teenagers and young adults.
One caught my eye -- the tallest of the group, broad-shouldered, probably muscular, with a shock of unruly brown hair. I thought he looked back, but I was probably imagining it.
The next day I went to the Musikgymnasium, the boarding school attached to the choir, said I was an American university student, and asked for a tour.
They summoned a boy my own age to show me around -- 18 year old Wolfgang (not his real name) -- not the one who caught my eye yesterday, darn it!
More after the break. Warning -- explicit.
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We made a date to go sightseeing the next Saturday: the Basilica of the Nativity of Our Lady, built by Charlemagne!; the Goliathhaus, with its three-story high mural of David and Goliath; the Altes Rathaus. I had been in Regensburg for a month and seen all of the local sights, but I didn't want to deprive him of the fun of showing around an American.
Wolfgang was in his last year in the Domspatzen -- next year he would be in the University, but he didn't want to study music. He hated the Musikgymnasium, and especially the conductor, Father Ratzinger (brother of the future Pope Benedict).
"He treats us like animals. Always shouting. Paddling on the bare...um...bottom. He found me with another boy once, and locked me in a room for three days for penance.
Note: He didn't mention any sexual abuse, but there have been recent allegations against two teachers (not Father Ratzinger) by many former members of the Domspatzen.
Me and another boy? Wait -- was Wolfgang gay? Did he know that I was gay? Should I ask him out?
"Gehen wir ins Kino nächsten Samstag?"
It was a date!
I spent the next week working out furiously, shopping for an outfit that showed off my pecs without showing off my pecs, and fantasizing about what would happen that night, starting with a kiss under the stars.
I don't remember much about the movie, except that my German wasn't good enough to understand most of the dialogue, and I was too terrified to touch Wolfgang in any way. Then dinner at a burger place. And...
My face burning with nervousness, I began: "Ich habe einen Mitbewohner, a roommate, so..."
"My roommate visits his family for the holiday. We will go to my room, ok?"
Too terrified to touch him, I let myself be led to his dormitory. Uh-oh, there was a matron, one of those elderly German ladies who hates everything, sitting behind a desk watching tv. I imagined a screaming interrogation: "Bringing a trick to your room, you little pervert!" But she just nodded us past -- apparently boys were allowed to bring male friends to their rooms.
It was standard dorm room -- Two single beds, two desks,dumbbells on the floor, a poster of a soccer player. I kicked myself for being disappointed, expecting beefcake posters and Michelangelo's David. Wolfgang wasn't out to anyone on campus. Neither was I.
More disappointment -- no passionate kissing while tearing each other's clothes off. No kissing at all. Wolfgang backed up against a closet door and started fondling the bulge in his pants.
"Should we...er...wir gehen ins Bett, ja?"
Grinning, he unzipped and pulled out his cock. About 6", uncut, sticking straight out. "Magst du?"
I crossed the room, fell to my knees, and started going down. I had only done this two or three times before, and the intensity of the experience was amazing. I kept hitting his zipper, so eventually he dropped is pants. Now I could fondle his balls and reach around to grab his butt. I pulled my own cock out and started beating off.
Suddenly Wolfgang grabbed my head, shoved it down against his cock, and spurted.
I stood, still aroused, still hot with erotic energy, and tried to kiss him. He pushed my face away.
So...was he going to go down on me? Were we going to bed? I stood there with my cock hanging out of my pants, waiting for a word. A signal.
He zipped up and moved to one of the chairs. "This was fun."
In other words, "Get lost." I zipped up and stood there, not comprehending. Where was the kissing? Lying naked together? My blow job? "So...um...do you want to go out next week? Etwas tun nächstes Wochenende?"
"Ok, My girlfriend will be here. You can meet her, maybe?"
Girlfriend? I muttered a goodbye and got the heck out of there.
Since then, I have always insisted on kissing before any intimacy. No kissing, no going down. But I still remember that night with Wolfgang as one of the most erotic experiences of my life.
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