Location: Delhi, Junior Girls’ Football Club

The Delhi heat was merciless, turning the turf into a sizzling pan as the girls ran drills in tight, sweat-drenched shorts and sports bras that clung to every curve. Cleats scraped the ground, ponytails bounced, and the tension in the air wasn’t just from competition.

Then he walked in.

Akash.

Twenty-one, tall, lean muscles rippling beneath a snug black tee, sweat already beginning to gather at the collar. His eyes—dark, hungry, scanning like a predator as he stepped onto the field. Coach Meena’s voice barely registered when she introduced him.

“This is Akash, your new training assistant. Treat him with the same discipline you do me.”

But discipline was the last thing on anyone’s mind.

Anika, striker, bold and built like sin, nudged her friend and murmured, “I’d let him blow his whistle all over me.”

The girls laughed—wet, throaty sounds that didn’t hide the heat pooling between thighs.

Akash smirked as if he heard every word. He held the clipboard like it was a prop, but his real focus was elsewhere—tight backsides, flushed cheeks, the way their bras stuck to their chests, nipples hard through the fabric.

He made them run suicides. Burpees. Lunges. Every command was an excuse to watch them sweat and squirm. When he corrected their posture, he let his hands linger.

Anika groaned when his palm slid from her waist down to the swell of her ass.

“Keep your back straight,” he said, voice low, eyes locked on hers.

“Yes… sir,” she breathed, lips parted.

He moved on, but she stood frozen, thighs clenched.

Priya—shy, soft-spoken, barely 18—was next. Her shirt had ridden up during drills, exposing a delicate waist and the faint line of a black thong. Akash’s voice dipped as he leaned close.

“You stretch like that again, Priya, and I might not be able to hold back.”

Her eyes went wide, lips trembling.

After practice, the girls hit the locker room, jerseys peeled off, towels hung low on hips, bare skin steaming in the haze of hot showers. Their talk wasn’t subtle anymore.

“Did you see how he looked at Anika?”

“I swear he touched me on purpose… not that I’m complaining.”

“I bet he’s packing.”

Akash passed by the open door. Just for a second.

Long enough to see Priya topless, arms crossed over modest breasts, blushing as another girl whispered in her ear. Anika stood in only a towel, rubbing lotion into her thighs, her gaze daring.

One girl moaned deliberately, “He could stretch me any day.”

Akash paused.

Looked.

Then walked off, smile crooked, cock already heavy in his pants.

They wanted

him.

And he knew how to take what he wanted.

***