The Cocky Coxswain Pt. 01

College

All through high school, I’d been obsessed with rowing. It was my primary mode of exercise and the sport that I watched religiously. There was just one problem—I wasn’t tall enough or strong enough to be much of a rower myself. At 5’5″ and 130 pounds, I never grew into the man and rower that I hoped to be. Instead, I’d been relegated to the role of coxswain: the short guy who gives orders at the front of the boat. As my high school classmates rowed in state championships and national competitions, I helped them keep time while barking orders of encouragement. It was the closest I could come to this sport without being a full-fledged rower myself.

*

The summer after high school, when I was 18, I went to a rowing camp at the University of Sussex in Whales. And hot damn, the guys there were fucking gorgeous. At this point in life, I was still figuring out my sexuality, and trying to determine if I was gay, bi, or straight—but it was virtually impossible to ignore the godlike bodies of these Adonis rowers. And the best part of all was that I was in the position to stare at them all day while bossing them around and giving them orders.

As I mentioned, I’m a pretty small dude, and my name is Drake. At 5’5″, I often stand half a foot to a full foot shorter than most of my teammates. Although my abs and arms were toned from the rowing machine workouts I did alone, I didn’t have the pounds of muscle that other guys packed on. Instead, I often weighed 50-80 pounds less than other guys on the team. Finally, I didn’t have the wavy blond hair and piercing green or blue eyes that so many rowers seem to have. Instead, I had slightly curly brown hair and brown eyes with a strong jawline and a boy-like face.

The night before rowing camp, I met my roommate, who was a massive guy from Germany: Charles von Lassendorf. At 6’5″ and 200 pounds, he towered over me by a foot and outweighed me by 70 pounds. Charles had blond hair and blue eyes and was chiseled as much as any rower I’d ever seen. His body was so imposing that it was hard to believe he was just 19.

Charles was a bit offended that he was sharing a room with the coxswain. Since he was one of the best freshman rowers, he thought he’d be paired with another star athlete on the team. But instead, he was stuck bunking up with me.

The first night that we roomed together, Charles came back from the shower wearing only a towel. Although I’d been on my phone scrolling through Facebook, I couldn’t help but look up at him and stare. His torso had two massive pecs and deep, chiseled abs—easily a ten-pack suadiye escort by any measure. Charles noticed me staring and was clearly a guy who liked to show off. As he looked right at me, he lowered his towel, revealing his godlike legs and big, German dick. It hung down around 4 or 5 inches and was fairly thick, with a light brush of blonde pubes above his uncut cock.

Charles caught me staring and smiled—thinking that he was the big man on campus. He was clearly used to being one of the larger-dicked guys back in Germany and had no qualms with being naked around his teammates. Back in Berlin, I’m sure the girls (and maybe guys) were lining up to suck his massive German cock. But here in Whales, Charles was in for a rude awakening that he might no longer be the biggest guy in our dorm room.

*

Charles slept that night in the buff whereas I kept on my boxers and t-shirt. He probably thought I was shy and afraid of showing my “small” penis, when in fact I was just tired and wanted to go to sleep. Early the next morning, around 5 a.m., I woke up to shower. To my delight, the showers in the dorms were totally open, with eight showerheads gathered around two polls in the center of the room. But sadly, there was no one else in there since I had woken up before the crack of dawn. Some of the rowers may have showered the night before, whereas others might be sleeping in before our team breakfast at 8 a.m.

After showering by myself, I returned to my dorm room, where Charles was starting to wake up. I walked into the room with my towel but took it off as I turned towards my bed. This gave Charles—who was still lying in bed across the room—an extended view of my tight buns and slender ass.

As I heard Charles rustle out of bed, I started to turn around. Now that he stood up, Charles and I were standing face-to-face a few feet apart, both of us completely naked.

“Good morning!” I said, smiling, as I looked into Charles’ bright-blue eyes. The 6’5″ German stud looked down at my brown eyes and kept looking down towards my slender body. Where he expected my small American cock to be, he instead saw what looked like a third leg. Fully flaccid, my cut dick hung down over 6.5 inches and was thick around as a can of red bull.

Charles gasped audibly as he did a double-take and checked out my man meat. He had never before seen a dick that looked so mammoth—especially on someone so short and skinny. As I grinned at Charles’ reaction, I couldn’t help but glance down at his own modest manhood. Although it had seemed bigger yakacık escort the night before, it was now about 4 inches soft and seemed small compared to Charles’ giant body. It was also dwarfed next to the huge meat swinging between my skinny legs.

After nearly a minute of staring at my dick, Charles finally looked away and shuffled around the room to get his clothes.

“Didn’t mean to fluster you,” I said. “Just thought I’d show you mine since you showed me yours last night.”

Charles stayed quiet as he put on clothes and left the room. The cocky German stud had never before been out-manned in the dick department, and now he’d been put in his place on the very first day of rowing camp. I was quite pleased as I put on my clothes to head to our first team breakfast. This was likely to be an incredible week at rowing camp with plenty of studs just like Charles von Lassendorf.

*

The team breakfast was truly a sight to behold. We had eight rowers on our team plus me as the coxswain. Across the camp, there were 80 rowers in ten teams who would compete by the end of the week for the Sussex Cup, one of the most coveted prizes in junior rowing.

I was one of the smaller and shorter coxswains in the camp, which gave my team an advantage since my size wouldn’t slow them down. While all of the guys at rowing camp were fairly gorgeous, I learned right away that my team had some of the hottest dudes in the entire camp.

There was Charles, of course, as well as two guys from the U.K., two from the U.S., one from Italy, one from Turkey, and one from Spain. The guy from Italy looked similar to Charles in that he had blond hair and blue eyes and was completely lean and ripped at 6’4″. Diego from Spain was only an inch shorter than him at 6’3″ with olive-tan skin and deep-set eyes. Amri, from Turkey, was the same height as Diego with chiseled features and a square jawline that could have easily made him look like a model.

The two guys who were from the U.S. (like me) were also very gorgeous. Juan was 6’2″ and from Southern California, where his tan and chiseled body soaked up the California sun. At 6′, Michael was from Illinois, the heartland of the U.S., and had sandy blond hair and green eyes to accent his model-good looks. Although he was the shortest rower in the group, his muscles were lean and strong and he could row all day without getting tired.

Finally, there were two blokes from the U.K., who seemed to be the cockiest of the bunch. Erick had moved to London from Cote D’Ivoire in West Africa and was a şerifali escort completely muscled and chiseled 6’4″. Damion, from Northern Ireland, was the tallest of the group at 6’6″ and had brown hair, greyish eyes, and a look of smug confidence. He liked being the biggest guy in the group and was also considered the best rower on our team.

In total, the eight rowers that I would be working with were all at least half a foot taller than myself. They also ranged in age from 18 to 21. Although I was pretty good-looking, all of them looked like models, and together we would do everything we could to train and win the Sussex Cup. I also couldn’t help but wonder what some of these lads were packing below the belt and whether eventually they would submit and succumb to me—their cocky Coxswain.

______________________________________________________________

I first became cocky when my dick embarked on an incredible growth spurt in the last couple years. I was a late bloomer and didn’t have a ton of confidence in myself through most of adolescence. While growing up, I idolized the bigger dudes on my rowing team and wished that I could grow as tall and strong as them. Although my high school rowing team let me be their coxswain, they never respected me or treated me as their equal.

On most rowing teams, it is impossible not to notice the dicks of your teammates. We all go commando while wearing lycra shorts, which tend to show off however much—or little—we are packing. At most rowing tournaments I went to, I could determine the size, girth, and ball size of most of the rowers with just a single glance.

While most coxswains also wear lycra, sometimes we put on a pair of athletic shorts since we don’t have to slide around on the boat like the other rowers. This is what I did after the taller and stronger rowers on my team made fun of me for showing off my diminutive package. Their bulges all seemed so much bigger than mine, which was also easily verifiable in the locker room showers.

But something happened the past two years that caused by dick to shoot up in both girth and length. As it doubled in size and thickness, I couldn’t help but notice that I now sported the biggest bulge at any rowing tournament I went to—especially compared to the size of my body. And since I’d already started wearing athletic shorts to hide my modest penis (which used to just be a couple inches soft), I kept on the shorts so that my teammates wouldn’t notice the massive man-meat that I now carried in my suit.

This is exactly what I did at our practice on the first day of rowing camp. As all of my teammates stripped down to their lycra trousers (or “trou” as called in Whales), I kept on my shorts. And all but Charles likely thought that I was shy and nervous about showing anyone my “small” or “modest” package.