My introduction into my sexuality occurred two decades ago and is a story that I want to share. It is an event that is seared into my memory since it was how I lost my virginity. Bought up in a catholic family, and the product of a single-sex church school, my sexual experience was limited to kissing my girlfriend who I dated for a year until I turned 18. It was shortly after my 18th, when I was still dating Rachel that something happened that I still reflect on with happiness today.
As many people in rural communities will attest to, you need to find things to do as a child to keep yourself occupied. I had developed a love of the outdoors and at home spent time walking, running and cycling around the hills of the county of Herefordshire in the United Kingdom. In the last two years of living with my parents, before leaving for Cambridge University, I was introduced to my local rowing club and it was here that I found a sport I was good at. I stand 1,95m tall -- around six five, and weighed in at 88kg. I was lean -- a farming background does that to you, so when I joined the rowing club in my late teens I was lanky but strong. I immediately felt at home in a rowing boat. I loved the way that it moved when it was picked up by a perfectly placed blade -- the name for a rowing oar.
In my naivety I didn't realise that I had the perfect body for rowing. I rarely, if ever, saw my conservative family nude, and catholic body shame had been instilled in me from a young age. What I didn't realise at the time either was that I had an unusual talent for rowing so was moved from a novice boat to one occupied by an experienced crew very quickly.
The club captain was in charge of the boat I joined and he took a shine to me. He was a few years older than me and had returned from Oxford University to work as a lawyer in the area. He had competed as an Oxford lightweight and thus was muscly, very lean and incredibly fit. I liked him too - Oxford and Cambridge -- two of the ancient UK universities had a rowing rivalry that was more than 100 years old. So it was that James took me under his wing and taught me how to use my body.
He had an amazing physique. When you row you wear an all-in-one, often referred to as a 'onsie' -- a lycra body suit with a cut away vest top that finishes in shorts. One of my secret enjoyments of being around the rowing club was checking out other athletes wearing lycra. The women and men looked super-hot wearing onsies. Whilst it was designed for functional reasons, it perfectly showed off taught muscles, bulges and body shapes. On hot summer days after training sessions, the guys in the eight would roll down their onsies to their waist, put away the boat and head to the showers before relaxing on the patio by the boathouse with a drink.
One evening after practice we were putting the boat away when James stopped me for a chat about technique. We stood in the boathouse and as the other members of the crew thinned out and went for their shower, James talked to me. I was checking him out as he did so. As a lightweight rower, he had a fabulous six-pack and tonight it appeared that his onsie had been rolled down further than normal. Rather than listen, my eyes kept wandering around his body as I checked out his rib muscles, his clavicle, and his thigh muscles.
I knew this was dangerous territory since James had a girlfriend, as did I, but I kept going back to his six pack. The 'v' line that is created by the muscles that connect to stomach to the pubic area were fascinating me. I tried to keep eye contact, but my attention kept moving down there. He was ripped, and it seemed that his onsie had been rolled in a way that was deliberately provocative, ending where you would expect to see a bush of public hair. I was wondering why I could see no hair -- although James was blonde, I would expect to see something there. I also knew that his body was stirring my cock into life. I tried to push back the thoughts, but the nascent voyeuristic side of me meant that knowing that checking out the rowing captain's body was a taboo, and this thought made it somehow dirtier, forbidden and thus hornier. My cock stirred some more as I thought about his body.
"Nick, Nick, are you getting this?" said James, as my attention had again wandered to his onsie. I looked up at him, startled back into his eyes, hoping that he didn't realise what I was doing; the liberalism of cities was not a feature of this small-town rowing club, and anything that wasn't straight was never talked about.
"Sorry, James," I said. "I think I got distracted for a minute, can you go over it again?"
James stared at me holding my gaze. "What were you thinking about, your girlfriend?"
A transient smile passed his lips as he almost imperceptibly glanced down at the bulge caused by my semi-hard cock protruding from my onsie. My breathing quickened as I realised that I may be busted and that he'd seen me checking him out. I held my water bottle in front of my groin, and tried to act normal, but was trying to give my cock some relief by pushing it with the hard edge of the bottle.
The spell was broken when James headed for the changing room. This was a danger zone; we'd been chatting a while and the other members of the crew were exiting as we entered. The sunshine of the evening meant the crew were staying for a drink on the terrace, meaning we were alone in the changing room with the guys outside.
I felt trapped alone in the changing room with James. It would be seen as weird not to shower -- it's something we always did after training, So I felt compelled to do so. But on the other hand, the deliciousness of being alone with James met that my cock was starting to throb more through my onsie and not less. Thus, getting in the shower would betray me at least as much as leaving without having a wash.
As I was summing up what to do, I noticed James slipping off his onsie before digging into his bag for shower gel and a towel. Having rummaged around he turned towards me and stood naked in front of me. His towel was thrown lazily over his shoulder, leaving most of his delicious body, including his cock exposed. I felt a flush of nervousness, my face reddened and I knew I must be blushing. I wanted to make eye-contact with James, but I was also desperate to solve the riddle of the missing public hair. I could feel my heart pumping in my chest as this man stood in front of me. He was a little taller, leaner, and beautiful. I use that term deliberately. Some men have a rugged handsomeness about them, but not James. He was beautiful -- not in an effeminate way, but in an insanely manly way. The way his veins stuck out his arms, his toned body, but more than that his personality. He had an easy grace that was uncommon in guys that age. Quietly confident without being cocky, amusing in a way that didn't mock others, but rather in a self-depreciating way, and incredibly kind and patient to those around him.
My bulge grew, I could feel the vein that runs the length of my cock gorge with blood and could imagine it throbbing blue under my onsie. Was James teasing me, was he aware of the effect he was having on me?
