"Jesus Christ..." Hendrix breathed a heavy sigh as Adams went down the field to start giving the players their warmups.
"Coach Adams not learning fast enough?" I asked. Of course, I added the sentence, 'It's completely normal for me to be around the football players while they're practicing,' to the notebook before I went up onto the field. After seeing how the locker room was, I figured that this wouldn't cause too many problems.
Coach Hendrix snorted a laugh. "I wish that's all it was. Just look at this," he showed me the stat sheets that Adams was supposed to be filling out and all the numbers looked completely illegible. Each one looked as though they were by a kindergartener picking up a pencil for the first time. Fours looked like nines. Sevens looked like ones and somehow his threes looked both twos and fives. "To think I'll be leaving this to him... Jesus Christ..."
"Do you want to keep coaching?" I pried.
"Wouldn't mind it," Coach Hendrix smirked. "Just getting a bit too old for it. Can't keep up the way I used to." His hands naturally went to his belly and gave the thick layer of fat a good shake. "Age catches up to us all."
"True..." I nodded along, but my hands squeezed the notebook I was holding a bit tighter. 'But what if it didn't,' I thought as I opened to a blank page. 'Coach Hendrix's body never physically aged past 30. He always kept himself in shape and likes to brag to the players that he could take their spot if they aren't trying hard enough.' The notebook glowed like normal.
I looked up to see Coach Hendrix looking down at me. I quickly closed the notebook. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything. Though, I could already see the changes starting to take place. The deep wrinkles around his eyes were starting to smooth over. His thin white hair was quickly filling out the top of his scalp. The hair on the side of his head was trimmed incredibly short while a trimmed curly mop of hair filled out the top of his head. What had been a clean shaven face quickly grew a handlebar mustache that matched the strong angles of his 70's era masculine face. Any roundness due to his age or weight leaned out into strong cut angles around his chin. I couldn't get him being a pornstar from the 70's out of my mind.
"PICK IT UP LADIES!" Coach Hendrix barked. What had always been a powerful shout, doubled in volume and strength as he regained his younger lung compacity. The sudden sound made me jump and almost start running laps with the other guys. Though, I was far too interested watching Hendrix's red polo shirt start to strain against the growing muscles in his torso. Thick, defined pecs pushed hard against the firm material. His small nipples poked through the fabric, even if they weren't hard. Round muscular shoulders atop a thin trimmed waist gave him an insanely imposing framed. There was no way he could use the top button on his shirt as his neck was far to think and shoulders were pulling hard at it.
Even the second button looked strained against the natural size of the man. That didn't compare to the compression of his biceps in his sleeves. The two massive arms stretched the fabric even when he wasn't moving around. But every time he would reach for his whistle or raise his arm, I was waiting to hear a rip in the fabric.
My eyes continued downward, seeing his polo tucked in his khaki pants. Hendrix obviously needed a belt as the only way to find pants large enough for his thighs would also be massive around his waist. Even still, his two massive globes pushed against the back of his pants showing off his impressive ass. One of his hands brushed against his dick, and even with all the extra fabric a clear bulge started to emerge. My eyes stared far longer than they should have. So long that even Coach Hendrix gave me a grin. "Looks like someone's a bit interested in something other than football."
"Sorry," I squeezed my notebook even tighter. Then forced myself to look forward.
Coach Hendrix just laughed. "You know I could use someone like you."
My face burned red. So many images of him 'using me' filled my mind and I was just thankful that my notebook was on my lap. "Oh?" I did my best to manage my expectations, though that didn't stop my thoughts from wandering.
"Yeah. It looks like you've got some pretty nice handwriting," Coach Hendrix paused. "At least legible. How about you write something down for me."
"Su-sure," I stammered out.