Coach Chris Grey. Upon first glace, he seemed the perfect image of a typical college coach. A rugged, masculine individual, with an Adonis-like body fit to live in the temples of the Gods. Probably his most well known trait from that body was the chest that many students, male and female alike, called a "chest of steel." It was obviously full of nothing but pure, beautiful, hard-earned, bulky-but not too bulky muscle. With a chest like that, it was hard to ignore the perfect outlines those hard pecs left along those tight-fitted white school shirts he always wore. His powerful, sculpted arms, "guns," the team liked to call them, could barely be contained by the thin and pathetic cotton material making up the sleeve. And, as with any man these days it seemed, signs of tribal tattoos were just barely visible from the sleeve hem. When he'd turn to face someone, one could not help immediately noticing the entrancing forest green shade of his eyes. Accompanied by strong masculine features, facial hair kept lightly trimmed but never fully shaved off, and a shaved head from being a former navy man, many called Coach Grey "a bearded Vin Diesel" and it wasn't difficult for him to attract girls, despite the fact that he never really paid mind to his natural charm. He was a dedicated man, and had a lot of heart for the game of football. Although he was at times very strict through tedious hours of practice sessions, he cared very much for the well being of his players. Alex Moore was now a sophomore in college, and this was his first year on the team. Even though their games didn't always end in victory, he was a proud member of that team. And despite the bullshit some of the student body said about the Coach's tough, if not "harsh" at times tactics, he admired him and his dedication the sport wholly. However... It seemed that admiration was leading to something a little more for Alex. It was as if he stared at his coach a little longer than he was supposed to these days.. feeling things that would probably lead to a one-way ticket out of the team, and out of the zone of respect many of his fellow players had for him.. urges too powerful to ignore.. a wild sensation in his body that would force him to give a stupid excuse to run to the bathroom during practice just to stroke away these outrageous, reoccurring fantasies of his coach. Of course, the coach would never know. Nobody would. No one suspected a thing, and it'd be between him and the four walls of his bedroom. The closest he'd get to being touched by his coach was the standard pat on the ass when one did a good job. Alex kept a good front at "playing it straight", and sometimes would be a little overwhelmed at how many girls at his school he could attract without even so much as a brief glance. A football player since the age of 12, among the most noticeable features was his athletic, finely toned and smooth body. He wasn't as bulky or buff as Coach or some of the other beefy guys on he team. Though once that shirt came off, it was nothing but pure toned muscle from his shoulders, down to that alluring bony hip curve that led those washboard abdominals, lined by a trail of hair from his navel, down to his crotch region.