Futa Football

"A WHAT?" My teammates all raise their voices incredulously at what we just heard from our head coach.

"I will repeat. A girl will be participating in walk-on tryouts tomorrow."

"It's a girl? What the fuck is this? This is a shitshow!" One of the linebackers screams back at the coach.

"She... guys, I scouted this girl in Japan..."

"JAPAN?!" A small group of players raises their voices in displeasure.

"She's not even one of those cornbread girls from Nebraska!" One of the O linemen said.

"She's something special. Something I, no, the world has never seen before," The Coach said.

"Bullshit, Coach." Gregory, the starting right tackle, snarled back at the Head Coach.

"Men, to be honest with you. We need new equipment and funding. As a Division Three program, it is hard enough to stay afloat year after year. The administrators are thinking about shutting us down. After COVID, the school has been in a dire financial situation. Since the Football program spends the most money at a low division, they think they need to cut us. We need something special to get funding and the alumni to donate. I believe she is the solution." That's Head Coach, Darnell Williamson, a Fifty-Four-year old grizzled veteran of the football coaching ranks. Cartman University is his first head coaching opportunity. I owe him a lot for allowing me on the team as a walk-on wide receiver and achieving my dream of playing college ball, even if it is division three.

"We are a joke now. Laughing stock. After this year I'm done." R.J. Duncanson, the number one receiver of the team. He could easily be a mid-major D1 receiver but was kicked off of other D-1 teams during his Freshman and sophomore years. Oh, and committed a felony while at Florida State University during his sophomore year. He's reformed but is still slightly mad that he's not a D1. Also, he's a major slacker who relies on his natural abilities. We appreciate him though.

"This is final. I hope you all welcome her with open arms tomorrow during tryouts. Good night everyone." The head coach and the rest of the staff walk out of the lecture hall before any of the other players can raise any questions. The next few minutes are filled with sarcastic laughter and a bunch of talk about transferring or quitting the team.

"You think this is for real, Quinn? A girl, playing college football? At an actual position? Unreal" My friend, Clark asks me quietly as we sit in the back of the lecture hall watching the rest of the men leave in disgust.

"I guess so. Can't do anything about that now. I'll see you tomorrow at practice. Gotta get home."

"Alright, man. This is wild, dude. My dad's gonna freak out when I tell him I'm about to play football with a girl."

"Ha, like you see the field anyways," I say as Clark snarls back at me as I dab him up and leave for my dorm room.

Cartman University. One of the few schools in Colorado that basically admits everyone into the school. Although there is a myth going around that the school automatically declines students with the name "Kyle." Apparently, our founder, Eric Cartman, built this school with his own money after he became a billionaire after converting to Judaism. He's quoted as saying during the opening of the school, "This school is built on the tears of my friend Kyle so others may thrive." I always cross the sculpture of Eric Cartman that has the headstone saying "Eric Cartman: The Greatest Jew to Ever Live." No one pays much mind to it. Although we do have some ultra Cartman followers who take it too far sometimes.

As for me, I just get to my dorm, lay my backpack on the floor, and head off to sleep. I'm probably the one percent of people here who don't "live it up." The college experience was not really for me. I always lived by the mantra, "study, football, sleep, repeat." So now is sleepy time.

*knock, knock, knock*

Oh god, it's probably one of the students wanting to hang out with one of the football players for the night. "Come drink with us. Party. You're awesome." Blah blah. Anywhere you go, it's like a badge of honor to party with a football player. It's overrated to me

I open the door, my eyes are blurry from my tiredness. But all I can make out is a tall, built figure about the same height as me, around 6' 1".

"How can I help you?" I ask groggily to the blurred figure.

"Oh sorry to bother you..." I instantly hear a faint, possibly Japanese accent, respond to me, "I was just wondering where the laundry is?"

I rub my eyes and nonchalantly shake off the cobwebs from my head. I stutter, "It's down... the," I give a slight yawn and rub my eyes then finish, "hall to the..." my eyes clear up for the first time as my finger leaves my eye. The figure in front of me starts to form. My face and upper body jolt in shock and near terror. "... right." the last word trails off as I take in what I can fully see now. It is like looking at an Asian Amazonia Horror Goddess. Only wearing a tight black Nike sports bra and pink Nike swim shorts that further accentuate her muscles. The muscles on her arms have muscles. I don't know whether her thighs or her boobs are making my head spin more. Her long black hair drapes right down to a slight view of the underboob popping out of her sports bra. But it is her eyes. Her eyes are so big and her pupils are pure black. She looks like a bodybuilder or even a fo...

"ariga..., umm I mean thank you." She slightly bows her head and walks off in haste with her laundry in hand.

What the fuck did I just see? A fucking beauty. A fucking villain. I may need to go to the student gym to find her. I plop back down on the bed, still amazed. Shamefully I must admit, I sort of, "thought about her all night."

And even more shamefully, I am currently at the student gym, at 8:30 in the morning, in the hopes she's one of those morning workout people. I swear I am not obsessed. I walk around the gym, all awkward, my eyes like a hawk trying to find the beauty I saw last night. Everyone is looking at me like some weirdo stalker. To be fair...

"Hey, buddy! Fancy seeing you here. What are you up to?" Gregory, the right tackle surprises me as he gets up from the bench press.

"Probably stalking some girl, huh?" His girlfriend, Jess says as she moves over to his side after spotting him for his set. I hate the fact that she was right.

I just stood there and sighed. I am always so jealous when I see the happy couple there together. Their story is somewhat unique, more or less hilarious. Everyone on the team knew that Gregory was bi. He never made a secret of the fact. He always talked about how he preferred sucking on a cock over a clit. "I always need a cock to suck before a game. It is my pregame ritual." He would from time to time remind us. So after the countless hookups, he had with all spectrums of the sexuality meter, he finally settled with Jess. The 5' 11" athletic beauty also happens to be a transgender female. Her pale skin and silky blonde hair made every unknowing man turn their head. But for whatever reason what she was packing scared countless men. Until she met Greg, who self-explained, "devours her cock every chance I get."

And Greg, being the cunning ass he is, took full advantage of his relationship. He took to Instagram, he even wrote the post in front of the team and wrote about how "hard" it was for him to come out as bi. And how he hopes everyone accepts him for who he is and that "love is love" or some bullshit like that. On the first day, everyone in town supported him, then by the end of the week, the entire country supported him. All of this support led him to sign a total of two million dollars in NIL money. He is not only the richest player below the D1 level but also makes more money than any of the coaches below D1. As one magazine called him, "A true national football hero."

"We are done here, I'm gonna go slurp on my girl's cock before practice. You wanna come with?" 'The true national hero,' asks with all the sarcasm in the world.

I should be shocked by the offer, but he always does this. They are a very promiscuous couple. "Thanks but no thanks. Think I may just get a quick workout here."

"Oh, a walking cardio session while stalking your crush? Fair enough. Have fun." Gregory walks off, carrying his girl in his hands as they make out for everyone to see. I just shake my head as they walk off.

I walk around the surprisingly crowded weights area at 8:45 in the morning. I reach the squat rack area and there is a small group of guys watching quietly.

"Dude, she's amazing." One of them whispers loud enough for the conjugation of boys to hear.

"I have never seen a girl squat so much." They whisper amongst themselves.

She came into view and there she was. The same girl that was by my door last night. Her muscles are even more defined now than when I first saw her. She looks straight into the mirror, determined to squat what looks like 320 pounds. I noticed that she was not fully Japanese. In my groggy state, I only noticed her accent last night. Now that I see her eyes wide open, she's Japanese but also mixed with a parent who must have been white. She looked more beautiful than any girl from South Park. She was alluring. All of the boys squirm and groan as her ass in her tight dark blue compression shorts part as she dips for her squat. Her big boobs protrude out in her white workout crop top. As she finishes her squat, we all watch in amazement as her sweat flings off her body and her long black hair sways from the momentum of the lift.

She sets the bar on the rack. Her head turns toward the crowd. Her eyes shoot right at us. Me and the others cringe in horror. God those eyes are so scary. She heads off to the locker room and her backside has the guys back in dreamland. We stand there jaw dropped. We all watched as her newly worked-out ass swayed before our eyes. I and many others exited the gym and had some alone time in our rooms.

After a pre-practice nap, I head out to the football locker room to get ready for practice. The locker room is full of conversation about whether the girl will show up, how good she may be, or the fact she's from a country like Japan.

As I put on my pads, I feel a slap on my shoulder. I look up and it's R.J. getting ready beside me as he says, "So I heard she's a cornerback. Dude, she's going to be covering your ass out there."

"She's going to show up? Wild, huh? I guess I may just have to embarrass her." I laugh. There's no way a little girl is going to outplay me. No way.

We walk out onto the football field for our practice and walk-on tryouts. The tryouts are already on the field warming up. We size them up. I especially look at the wide receivers. It's weird knowing that a few years ago that was me being a nervous wreck out there. But now I'm the one nitpicking at everything they do.

After our stretching routine, Coach Williamson blew his whistles and yelled, "Gather up!"

"Fuck yeah, can't wait to embarrass some bitches today," RJ says as we huddle together.

"Where's that wannabe girl at? Always wanted to hit one." A third-string linebacker quips

"Alright, alright, boys. Today is walk-on tryouts. Play hard and show these guys why they weren't recruited in the first place. But don't go out of your way and kill them." The team chuckles as Coach Williamson brings us together.

Coach Williamson turns his attention to the walk-on who have their helmets on. "Please take your helmet off and introduce yourself to the team."

We watch one after another introduce and say their name and the position they are trying out for. All unremarkable and all doing this because they think they can hang. There is of course the small Delta frat boy. The Deltas have this tradition where the guy who came in last in the pledge rankings has to participate in football tryouts as a running back.

"Toby McCoy, running back," The Delta winced when it was his turn to introduce himself. I can see why he pledged. The guy is 5' 6" and would have had zero chance to hook up with a hottie if he was not a Delta. The price guys would pay for some ass. He's guaranteed to have at least three cracked ribs by the end of the day. His boyish good looks may disappear as well.

We get down the line. All the players are giddy with excitement to see the last tryout. The player steps forward and takes off their helmet. I recognize that straight black hair and those haunted eyes anywhere.

"Yuhara Ahri," She says in a stoic tone. Yuhara looks forward staring blankly forward with ferocity in her eyes.

"Bro, she's fucking scary," One player said quivering.

"Nah she's hot," The team was split in half like myself. Was she a goddess or the Terminator?

"Dude she has bigger muscles than our fucking linebackers," The kicker laughs in the back.

"You punks better get in the gym and pray she doesn't change positions," The linebacker coach jested at his position players.

"Hey, Yuhara is white, not Japanese," One of the players noticed her unique complexion.

"No dumbass, she's half white, half Japanese. Her father is an American Veteran and her mother is Japanese." Coach Williamson corrected him. "And for you uncultured ones, her first name is Ahri."

"Is everything ass backward in Japan?" R.J. quips.

My eyes linger on Ahri. Her head drops and her stoic nature gives way to a sign of sadness.

"You know what R.J. you are training with the walk-ons today," Coach Williamson says sternly.

"Fuck off," R.J. says as his shoulders slump.

Ahri eyes gravitate to R.J. with all the malice she could muster. Damn, she was beautifully scary. Her light freckles were adorable. Her triceps and biceps were imposing.

"Enough. Let's get going. Everyone with the strength coach. Stretching and warm-ups." The Coach says.

We all get into our lines and begin our normal warm-up. The whistle of the strength coach is louder than normal. His intensity is up a notch since he gets to work his magic on the walk-ons.

We could already tell Coach Williamson has cut about 75% of the people in his head. Many of them needed to be more coordinated to play at this level. And we were just doing ordinary exercises. They probably thought this was a piece of cake and that anyone could do it because it is "D3". They can go back to yelling at the big dog Alabama players on their TVs.

We spread out eight long across each of the 10-yard markers. Ahri is towards the back, on the 20-yard line. The strength coach calls for us to spread our feet just past our shoulder length and bend down. One of the walk-ons yells "GOD DAMN!" I look back and the man nearly falls over as his face is in direct line with Ahri's ass. All those squats she does, plus her ass in those football pants damn near made a man faint.

"Get that man out of here. No dicking around," Coach Williamson yelled. Two assistants grabbed the man's arms and dragged him out of practice.

Coach Williamson clapped his hands, "Alright, Defense and Offense split with your coaches. Walk-ons with me for the agility test."

It was the normal run-through, catching drills, route running, you know the basics. We cannot show any of these walk-ons the good stuff if they feel vindictive when they get cut.

Our attention was slowly taken away by the commotion going on during the walk-on test. Ahri was blowing everyone away. She had the fastest shuttle run and a 40-yard run. She outplayed R.J. in the ball control, ball carrying, and catching test.

"I'm just playing around guys. She ain't that good." R.J. said trying to play it off that he was coming in second in every drill. Even the Delta kid, Toby was having a surprising showing. His agility and footwork only came second to Ahri.

"Fine, come on little girl. I'll beat you in a 40. Easy work." R.J. said as he lined up on the end zone line.

Ahri retied her ponytail and stepped on the line.

"Your ass may smell good but you ain't beating me," R.J. said as his eyes lingered a little too long on Ahri's chest. "No way a girl with double Ds beating me," R.J. yelled out to us as he pointed to himself.

The strength Coach yelled, "Go." Ahri had R.J. beat on the first step. She didn't run like a girl with big tits. Her sports bra was working overtime because everything was compacted. R.J.'s natural athleticism kept him in the race. But, Ahri had him by a step once they reached the 40.

"That's fucking right," Ahri said her first words of the day pointing at R.J. Her sweet voice caught everyone off guard. "I'm faster and bigger," She sneered at him as she held her flexed right bicep in her left hand.

"Sorry, kid. She's our new weapon," Coach Williamson said to the dejected R.J.

All of the receiver's attention was on the race."Jesus Christ, Quinn. She's a superstar," Clark says as he finishes his rep.

"I need to introduce her to Jess. Just imagine those two girls together. My queen and this Amazon. Fuck I'm horny." Greg said. "Hey, Coach when can I pancake one of these frauds? I'm all pent up." Gregory yelled at the coaches.

"Alright, let's do some one-on-ones. Linemen on the southside. Quarterbacks, receivers, and D backs on the North. Everybody else with the coaches on the side.

Clark had the good fortune to go against Ahri first. He tried his best move, but Ahri went step to step with him and even drove him out of bounds. She smacked him on the butt when they were done and Clark's eyes lit up.

"Quinn, you see that?" Clark said when he got back in line.

"Yeah, she dominated you," I said shortly.

"No, well yeah, but she slapped me on the butt. She slapped me harder than my dad." Clark says as he rubbed his ass.

"Seems like she's getting comfortable out there," I said.

Most of the walk-ons headed home after their first one on one drill. The only ones left were Ahri and Toby. Toby ran scarred yet but was elusive as a fly. He was small but his feet moved well. Sure he got tackled a couple of times but he got back up. His frat brothers stopped teasing him from the fence surrounding the field once they realized Toby was earning the respect of the coaches.

It was R.J.s turn for revenge. Ahri did not take her eyes off R.J. once he lined up. The Starting Quarterback, Kyler, yelled "Hike" and R.J. got a step on Ahri crossing her face. But, Ahri recovered. Kyler threw the ball ahead of R.J. to catch it in stride. Ahri lunged out and her hand batted the ball away.

R.J. slowed down and hung his head. Ahri gave him a shoulder check as she jogged back in line. The smile on her face had everyone stunned. Her normal face may have been one of a horror ghost, but her smile made her seem like one of those K-pop idols. We all knew we had a problem on our hands now.

"That was a terrible throw, Kyler," R.J. said as he flung his arms in frustration.

"Nah, that was a perfect ball. You just needed a longer lead on her," Kyler said as he threw a perfect ball during the next pairing.

Now it was my turn to face Ahri. Her eyes were scarier through her helmet. Kyler called for the ball and I just went for a 'go' route. Which was fucking stupid. She was all up on me. I achieved no separation once the ball was en route. She won the hand fighting too. She denied any possibility for me to catch the ball perfectly. She was a reincarnation of Deion Sanders. The ball got to me but I got off balance. She took me to the ground and her hard body piled on me. I realized two things right there. She was better than me. And she was definitely stronger than me.

I tried to get up from under her but she just laid on me. Her eyes did not leave mine. It took me a couple of seconds to feel her soft tits on me. It was like a nice, heavy blanket on my shoulder pads.

In my heaving breathing, I say, "I'm Quinn. Guess you are my new teammate." She did not respond. She just held her gaze. "Are you okay?" I ask her.