This erotic writing combines a lot of my fantasy’s I’ve had for a long time. And I think I need some clarity why they arouse or excite me. Feel free to leave feedback, and thanks for reading.
Part I
The repeat whistle blared once again but our teenage heroes, each beyond the point of muscle failure, could no longer respond. it had been over an hour, an hour of continuous brutal drills and conditioning since coach blew a desperately needed break whistle, three hours since the tormenting drills started after an already grueling day.
With little to no recovery times between the punishing sets, their oxygen starved muscles shifted into anaerobic respiration. Lactic acid ripping through their already torn, aching muscles, accelerating their demise and crippling our sweat soaked teenage football jocks. their limbs, thick and swollen from their hours long ordeal with their veins engorged In blood desperately trying to deliver oxygen to their torn, exhausted and depleted bodies.
Raising the whistle to his lips again, coach looked outward, before him laying in waste, were his once brimming football stars with cocky confidence, superior strength and egos, he, within a matter of a couple of hours, destroyed them into a sweaty steaming heap. the drought bitten dirt beneath them turned to mud, saturated with their sweat, blood, and spit. each of our teens laid there, groaning in agony, each desperately trying to recover, but failing. Pushing up pathetically with their helmeted heads hanging downward from their limp necks, their swole arms, beaten and bruised, unable to support their muscled bodies failed under the strain of their solid weight, sending them collapsing face first, down into the dust where they continued to writhe in pain driven by lactic acid cramps setting in.
Carter, seeing coach about to blow the repeat whistle for another turn of grueling merciless drills, rolled over, and with his last energy locked eyes with him through his cracked and mud streaked visor, raising his trembling and fatigued arm outward, he muttered a hoarsed:
” ..w why…?” His breath wearily exhaling through his mouth guard with his gloved hand reached across his bruised chest towards coach in protest, as if to ask his question be taken for a plea of mercy. his arm dropped suddenly as a convulsion from overuse cramping overtook his firm, thick abs:
”…u ugh..” Clutching his side, he groaned and writhed in agony, turning over as the mud caked his sweat permeated crop top which no longer concealed his shoulder pads as they protruded through his ripped practice jersey.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/ej7f0k/str8mfantasy_destructive_transformation_6_sweat