I joined the French Navy when I was 17. In the spring of 1965, I was seconded as a radio sailor to the Clémenceau aircraft carrier for exercises with buildings in the USA.At the end of the year, we made a stopover in Casablanca in Morocco where we stayed for 5 or 6 days.We arrived in the evening and I did not go out that first day.The second day, at the beginning of the afternoon, not being on duty, I decided to go and visit this city that I did not know. Not being affected on this boat, being there only for a month, of a shy and reserved nature, I made only professional relations but no relationship of camaraderie. So I went down to earth alone.I admit that I don't remember the topography of the place very well. I know that when leaving the port I took streets or avenues in the direction of the South, I crossed one or two places, there was a church or a cathedral and I landed in a park where I found myself sitting on a bench in the shade of a tree.I was a little hot, I felt a little tired and I was thirsty. Simple sailor, at that time I had very little pocket money and I hesitated to go to a bar in an unknown country having made very few stopovers abroad in my very short and young military career. Anyway honestly I wondered what I was doing there and started to consider going back on board.Looking around me, at a little distance, I saw a young girl, a book on her knees, who was looking in my direction ... it's true that it must have been a little strange to see this sailor alone sitting on a bench in a park, while most of my colleagues were more in the bars surrounding the harbor.After about a quarter of an hour of mutual observations, I decided to go to her.- Hello, my name is Jean .. - My name is Samia… A conversation followed about her studies, her parents, her family, her hobbies, and vice versa…. Nothing very interesting in the context of this story but which made me spend a pleasant hour.It was well into the afternoon when she told me she had to go home. I asked her if I could go with her and she answered positively.She was pretty, sympathetic, laughed easily and I was fine. So I followed her and we advanced in this city of which I did not have the plan. Caught up in the atmosphere and the conversation, I didn't worry about the path we were taking….At one point she said excuse me but you can't come any further because I don't want to be seen with a sailor, that would give me a bad reputation and my parents would be very unhappy. I understood very well, and I let her go. I was disappointed and at the same time she allowed me to have a good time.I started to turn back but very quickly I realized that I had no idea where I was. At the time no cell phone and associated GPS !!!!I asked someone I passed where the port was. She gave me a direction but it didn't get me much further and I was starting to worry because the evening was coming quickly.A car stopped near me and its driver, an Arab, asked me where I was going. I told him that I wanted to go back aboard my boat docked at the port. He said to me: "go upstairs I'll take you there" ... It is with eagerness and relief that I sat down next to him, thanking him warmly.He drove slowly, asking me questions about me, explaining anecdotes about the places we crossed.I did not recognize at all the places we were crossing but hey, when I walked alongside Samia, I admit that I do not have to do like the little thumb in marking out the path taken. In addition, the night had fallen… He smiled, was pleasant to listen to, joked and I let myself be rocked (a bit like the snake which listens to the flute…). Besides, I had walked quite a bit and I was a little tired.At one point he put his right hand on my leg, nothing more. There I put myself on alert. What does he want from me? At first I moved my legs back towards the door.He took his hand away and suggested that I take a detour through a shopping district that tourists really liked because there were plenty of shops. I pointed out to him that I had very little money and could not afford anything. He replied that he would be happy to give me a present because I was very nice and that he wanted me to leave Morocco with a souvenir of him.Frankly? ... I was coming out of my mother's skirts and yes I was naive!At that time, my only sexual experiences had been with young girls of my age and were limited to kisses and some tampering… We were in the first half of the 60s!He started to drive a little faster and I noticed he was changing direction. He told me that he was going to show me around interesting places that few tourists had the chance to know… I thanked him and told him that I had to be back on board the Clémenceau before midnight.He talked and joked a lot; I regained confidence… he put his hand back on my thigh; .. A little higher on my thigh… I removed his hand. He asked me if I didn't like it. I told him that I was not homosexual and that in the French Navy that was punished very severely.- I'm not doing anything wrong, my gesture is only friendly he said; how are you named, me it is Mohamed - Jean.- Don't worry Jean, we're with friends, you'll see we're going to have a very pleasant time… He takes my hand that I had left on my leg and places it at the top of his thigh… I tense up, I'm hot, I remove my hand and put it back on my leg… - Mohamed, I would like you to bring me back to the port please.- No, no, no my friend, we arrived soon and then I promise I will bring you back.We had left the very urbanized city center, the streets were less and less lit, the houses or businesses more distant from each other ... I had no idea where I was, how far my boat was, how I would do without him to return on board !!!!!Even though I was totally inexperienced, I understood very well what he wanted. I was scared, not this fear panic, not rather fearful.My brother was 8 years older than me. When I was 6 or 7 we slept in the same bed. He sometimes made me play doctor ... I had to auscultate him and especially the genitals. I remember he was hard and his cock seemed huge to me…. Several times he asked me to jerk him off….Later at school, when I was 10 or 11, I was sitting at the back of the class next to a friend older than me. He waited until he was 14 to go to work at the factory. One day he asked me to put my hand in his pocket ... - Why?- You will see you will find a surpriseMy hand found nothing, he told me that it was at the bottom ... I put my hand further - his pocket was holed - I first touched his thigh before meeting his erect penis.- Take it in your hand and stroke it.It was soft, hot and hard at the same time… this thing seemed alive! It turned me on and I caressed him until he told me to stop because he was going to cum… this game was repeated several times during the school year… it was also at this time that I started to masturbate.So that day in Casablanca, in this car, all these memories came back to me suddenly! I must have been all red, I was getting hotter and hotter, I was even shaking a little.My driver left the main road, to take narrower and less traveled streets. I no longer dared to speak.He finally stopped in a neighborhood next to a cafe and told me to come downstairs that we are going to have tea. There were a few passers-by and the bar was occupied by a few men chatting. I told myself that I was not afraid of much.But a French sailor in uniform who disembarks that is noticeable! the conversations fell silent. Mohamed said a few words to them in Arabic, and I told me to follow him to the back of the room where he pointed to a table.The boss quickly brought two glasses and a teapot.Mohamed sat down next to me and told me that he liked to come here, that his house was nearby and that all these people were his friends. He spoke to me a little about him and I took the opportunity to look at him on the sly because since our meeting I had not really had the opportunity.He must have been between 1m75 and 1m80 while I was 1m65. He was skinny just like I was skinny.Her face wasn't exactly beautiful, but not ugly either. Skinny like the ...

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