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DPS - Football Practice Drop In Part Two
🕑 Added 2024-09-13 04:14:14 +0000 UTCImages are in your Story Lovers folder. Also make sure to check last month's Story Lovers folder!
Football Practice Drop In Part Two
“You sure you don’t want one of these?” one of the boys asked, bringing her a helmet.
Dana reached out with her long fingers, grabbed the helmet from the boy’s pathetically weak grasp, and without warning, slammed the dome of the helmet against her forehead. A loud crack like a gunshot fired whipped through the air, making everyone, especially the boy closest to her, flinch and jump. She lowered her toned arm, revealing that her sneering yet angelic face was completely unharmed, while the helmet had been splat from the easy impact. It still hung together where her fingers pinched in, but the rest of it, padding and all, was falling apart.
“No, I’m good,” Dana lowered her arm, letting the safety equipment dangle loosely. A pinch of her feminine fingers finished it off, and the irregularly bisected pieces fell to the ground. A quick blast of heat vision from her large green eyes turned the ruined thing into ash.
The boy gulped and backed off, staring at the hand that had broken the helmet. He wasn’t even sure how the helmet had disintegrated. Two beams of green light flashed before his eyes, or so he thought. What the fuck had just happened?
Dana could see he was about to squeal about what had just happened, so she dragged one of those fingers that had obliterated the helmet up to her chest, languidly dragging her long finger across the dramatic bulging curves of her chest, pressing the fabric even more taut against those incomparable breasts. His eyes followed suit, and the sight of her breasts ran over his mind like a ton of bricks.
He only had one thought now: to join his team on their path of self destruction by trying to play against this superhuman goddess of beauty and power.
“Yo Alex, what the fuck are you doing? Come on, we gotta huddle!” Brian yelled. Alex jogged back toward his team, seemingly obeying their de facto leader. But all his mind could register was the image of Dana’s breasts, shattering his thoughts like dandelion fluff and replacing them with her own.
“Hey Dana, you kick off! We get the first offensive possession!”
Brian threw the ball to her from close range, hard. He swiveled at the hip and poured everything he had into it, his whole body working in harmony in one, optimized force generating motion. The football whizzed through the air in a beautiful spiral, headed straight for Dana’s most obvious, largest targets.
Dana just stuck her hand out and palmed the ball by its pointed tip. If the ball had a jet stream behind it, the force would have been shunted downward, stopped in its tracks by Dana’s lovely palm.
The more observant boys noticed the ominous, imminent beating that was about to take place. But they weren’t just going to give up. Surely this long limbed, huge chested girl with no safety gear on and a pair of sneakers was no match for them!
‘So I kick it at you?” Dana asked, innocently and genuinely.
“Hey babe, whatever you want!” one of the boys yelled from across the field.
Dana flipped the ball a few times, letting it rotate furiously in the air before catching it in her palm again. Then, without any of the fanfare or motion like an actual football player, Dana just dropped the ball and swung her long leg out, tapping it extremely gently with the toe of her shoe.
The ball flew through the air, flying flat with no spin and completely counter to aerodynamics. Still, the brute force of Dana’s tap slammed into the receiving player, knocking him off his feet. He was flung backwards behind the goal line, unable to breathe from the fierce hit to his sternum. Meanwhile, the ball landed at the ten yard line.
Nobody seemed to pay him any mind. One of the returners grabbed the ball, and all of the players began to advance.
They ran up the field in their respective positions before one of them yelled out to all gather together. After all, the defensive attack would only be coming from one direction. One supremely, lengthy, bulging, sexy direction. What use was it to have coverage across the entire field?
So the team gathered together, haphazardly recreating a Spartan phalanx. They advanced up the field with the returner in the back, protected by layer after layer of well trained human muscles.
Dana giggled, thinking about how she should tackle him. That was just about the only thing she knew about football. She could fly over their heads and land her pretty feet on his shoulders, then push him down into the ground as if she were planting a tree. That might be fun. She should take off her shoes for that one.
She could blow down the advancing wall, just like the big bad wolf in that fairy tale. Only her superbreath wouldn’t be impotent against something as flimsy as mere bricks. And a wall of high school boys, no matter how well trained, wouldn’t stand a chance against the destructive yet sexy hurricane that she could unleash from her lips.
Or, she could run around it. It wouldn’t matter if it were miles wide—Dana could circle around it in a few seconds, pumping her long, graceful legs and eating up the distance in a few strides. She wouldn’t even need to pump her toned arms—hell, she could just walk around it all, just a blur to the naked eye.
But where was the fun in any of that?
So naturally, Dana chose the path of direct resistance. Straight forward.
Though calling it resistance was an insult to the word. Dana just strode forward, her long, inhumanly flexible, and graceful legs consuming the distance from one end of the field to the other. She never even took her hands off of her curvaceous hip. Dana traveled down the lane like a bowling ball fired from a cannon, scattering the boys like hapless pins as her hypersexual body made the slightest contact with their weak, fragile bodies. A bump of Dana’s hip, or even a glancing touch against her relaxed, bent elbows left them winded and gasping on the floor as Dana parted the sea of boys, reaching her target.
“Hi,” Dana cooed as she came face to face with the boy, her forehead touching his helmet.
She arrived so fast that he actually screamed from the shock. He tried, and succeeded, at changing his angle and continuing to move forward, but only because Dana kept pace, lockstep with him as she backpedaled, matching his direction precisely. Her hands never even left her hips. This was child’s play after performing basically the same trick with a jet fighter in the air, but even easier! Not that teasing a state of the art fighter plane had been difficult. Not in the slightest.
Then, with their heads still butting, Dana rooted herself in place. The returner’s legs immediately buckled as his forward movement was completely stifled, choked off at the source. He strained and grunted as sweat beaded down his face, but he couldn’t budge Dana’s fit and toned legs a single inch.
Still without even moving her hands, Dana began to push the hapless boy backwards. He strained as his training against the push sled came into play, his body at an angle as his cleats dug into the fresh, grassy peat. But it was no use. Dana just laughed as the boy lost yardage from Dana’s simple strut.
She would have pushed him all the way back into their endzone if not for his pathetic legs giving out. No longer able to take the strain, his knees buckled, and down to the ground he went.
The team brought in their offensive players. Some of the boys that Dana had smashed into needed to be helped off the field.
The sight of 21 boys teed up at the line of scrimmage, in all of their protective gear, versus one lone girl—albeit stunningly gorgeous and wickedly fit—could have been the setup for a joke. Dana remained standing at her full height, towering over all of the tackles in their three point stance trying to provide defensive cover for Brian, their quarterback.
“21! 63! Hut! Hut! Hike!”
The boys all sprung into motion, like a choreographed ballet. Dana remained perfectly motionless, smirking at the pointless movement of all of the players around her. They were like moths to her unquenchable flame! Fly as they might, there was no way they could get away from her if she pleased. She was just so far superior to them. And her beauty could be a siren’s call if she chose it, manipulating those pathetic weaklings into seeking their own self destruction against the invulnerable, nubile flesh of her hypersexual body. They just couldn’t help themselves. She had all the control.
Brian took aim downfield and threw the football. It flew true, a beautiful pass that covered most of the distance to the endzone. As the ball spiraled out of his hand, Dana burst into action. One moment, she was standing completely still, serene as a flickering, burning flame in the center of it all. Then suddenly, she was a flesh colored blur that reappeared right in front of Brian’s face. She gave him enough time to register her reappearance since his weak, pathetic eyes could not follow a fraction of her own power. Then, she placed her outstretched index finger on his shoulder and gave him a little tap.
“Oof! Owww!” Brian shrieked as he crumpled straight down into the ground. A pinpoint, searing pain struck him in his bruised shoulder, radiating throughout his body. What the fuck had just happened?!
Dana didn’t have time to sneer at the boy she’d just poked to devastating effect—the pass had been caught, and the receiver was running toward the end zone to the best of his ability. Well, that is, she wouldn’t have time if she were just a normal human. But Dana was anything but.
She flipped her flaming red hair to the side and glanced over her shoulder. Again, all of the boys were balled around him, protecting him as he ran toward the end zone. Fifteen yards, ten yards, five, four, three, two...
Dana disappeared from her spot once more, her graceful and immeasurably powerful legs consuming the distance, making the 70 or so yards look like a skip and hop. But the effort it took the redheaded supergirl was far less than even that playful movement.
Right before the receiver was about to reach the endzone and spike the ball, he was buffeted by a wall of sweet smelling air. Then, his forward momentum was completely and instantaneously halted. His throat was suddenly constricted by what felt like warm, steely, silky fingers, and his pumping legs were... well, they were still pumping but they weren’t on solid ground anymore.
His eye level was suddenly higher than he was used to. He swore he was as tall as the bottom bar of the field goal posts. He was also having trouble breathing. Only when he looked down did he realize that was happening.
Dana had him by the throat, her slim fingers digging into his flesh with no apparent effort at all. He could tell because her arm was fully extended upward, and as his vision began to darken, she appeared to be putting no effort into at all. Her eyes were glowing green, her arrogant smirk relaxed and superior.
Just as he was about to pass out, Dana released the grip she had around his throat. He crumpled onto the grassy floor, gasping for air.
“Hey! That’s an illegal play! Where’s the flag!?” one of the offensive tackles yelled.
“What?” Dana raised a perfect eyebrow.
“You’re not allowed to tackle the quarterback way long after he throws the ball! That’s a penalty, and you downed him at the 1 yard line, so that’s a touchdown for us!”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘tackled,’” Dana sneered. “I barely touched him! Right, hot stuff?” Dana looked at Brian.
He grimaced, gingerly trying to move the arm attached to the shoulder that Dana had poked. “Y-yeah...”
“Whatever! It’s 7 points for us! We skip the extra kick in practice!”
Dana liked his attitude. “So what do I do now?”
“You go down to the other side of the field. We’ll kick, and you return...” Brian stumbled back to the bench. He was relieved it wasn’t his turn on this play.
Dana blurred, and reappeared at the opposite 0 yard line. “Any day now,” she taunted.
The players switched places, and the kick came downfield. Dana leapt into the air, breaking the world record a few times over, and caught the ball. The players gasped and stopped to watch as she seemed to defy gravity as she gracefully hovered back down to earth.
Once she was earthbound again, she held the ball out in front of her. “Come and get it,” she taunted.
The players all charged her. One of them got his hand on the football and expected it to rip it out of her hand. After all, she was barely clutching it with those fingers, holding the thing vertical. She really didn’t know how to handle the sport at all!
He grunted. Twisted. Swiveled his hips and put his whole body into it. Try as he might, he couldn’t tear it from her grasp!
Dana sneered at him. Her arm barely twitched.
He was sent flying over her shoulder.
Three players ran at her full speed and tackled her. Or tried to. They might as well have been trying to tackle a metal pole embedded in concrete. Dana remained completely rooted in place as they injured their bodies against her invulnerable, feminine muscles.
With a quick downward shunt of both arms, she flung all three boys away, sending them rolling along the grass.
Tired of the game now, and with the rest of the boys wary of approaching her, Dana puckered her lips and leaned forward at the waist. Her expansive breasts bulged even more against her t-shirt, her pointy, diamond hard nipples driving the boys mad with desire. Then, she exhaled.
The sound of a hurricane force wind raced over the field as she sent every single player flying. Even the boys on the bench braced against the sudden storm that had appeared out of nowhere. Their footing slipped, their grasp against the floor and the benches broke, and they were all sent into Dana’s endzone, tumbling helplessly.
Dana took her time, savoring the groans of the entire team that she had dominated with her breath. She crossed the goal line.
“Boys, I’m bored. Why don’t we call this a tie? And since I didn’t win, I think we’ll be having that sleepover tonight...” Dana examined all of them. Why not? Her display of dominance had left her horny, and why should only the lacrosse team be the only lucky ones to get raped?
“Oh, and that extra point...”
Dana held the ball out in front of her. She dropped it, took a step forward, and her rear leg swept in a beautiful, long arc, her sneaker smashing into the football.
It flew through the field goal posts on the other side and then some. Over the bleachers it went, disappearing far over the horizon.
“Gooooooooaaaaaaaaal!” Dana cheered.
Nobody bothered to correct the fact that she was playing the wrong sport.
