Pretty Femboy Bred by BBC Trainer

Curvy femboy in tiny shorts teases jacked Black trainer Tyrone. After hours he gets a private “workout” in the steamy shower.

I stepped into the gym that evening feeling the familiar buzz of eyes on me, the way my loose Slayer t-shirt hung off one shoulder and my tiny distressed denim shorts barely covered the swell of my thick, juicy ass cheeks. The frayed hem rode so high that every time I bent even slightly, the bottom curves of my plump rear peeked out, tan skin glowing under the fluorescent lights. My shoulder-length dark hair swayed with each step, the feminine layers brushing my soft jawline and neck. My hazel eyes caught reflections in the mirrors—pretty, almost doll-like, framed by long lashes that made people do double-takes even when I tried to look “unisex.” My high-top sneakers squeaked on the floor, short socks hugging my delicate ankles, and beneath it all, the lacy black g-string I wore dug deliciously between my smooth, hairless cheeks, a constant secret reminder of how desperately I wanted to be seen as the soft, curvy girl I felt like inside.

I was on the hip thrust machine, thighs trembling as I pushed my hips upward, my chunky ass flexing and bouncing with each rep. That’s when I noticed him watching—Tyrone, the tallest, most jacked trainer in the place. Six-four easy, dark skin gleaming under a tight black tank that clung to his chiseled chest and abs, biceps thicker than my thighs. His eyes were locked on the way my shorts had ridden up completely now, exposing the full lower half of my creamy ass, the thin string of my g-string disappearing between those plush mounds. I felt my little cock twitch inside the lace as his gaze dragged slowly up my body—over the gentle curve of my hips, the slight swell of my small, pert breasts pressing against the loose shirt, up to my flushed, pretty face.

He walked over, voice low and smooth like velvet. “You’re working those glutes hard, huh? Form’s good, but I could help you get even deeper into the stretch. Private session after closing? I lock up tonight.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. I nodded before I could overthink it, voice coming out softer and breathier than I meant. “Y-yeah… I’d like that.”

An hour later the gym was empty, lights dimmed to just the emergency strips. Tyrone led me to the back training room, locked the door behind us, and flicked on a single overhead spot that bathed us in warm gold. He stepped close—close enough that I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes—and his huge hand settled on my narrow waist, thumb brushing the strip of bare skin where my shirt had ridden up.

“Been watching you for weeks,” he murmured, voice rumbling. “That pretty little body in these tiny shorts… fuck. You know exactly what you do to men, don’t you?”

I swallowed, cheeks burning, but I couldn’t lie. My nipples were already stiff against the inside of my shirt, my g-string soaked at the front where my five inches strained uselessly. He didn’t wait for an answer. His hands slid down, cupping the fat, juicy swell of my ass cheeks and squeezing hard, fingers sinking into soft flesh like he owned it. I whimpered as he pulled me flush against him, letting me feel the thick, hardening ridge in his sweats—nine inches at least, heavy and pulsing against my belly.

“Shower,” he growled, voice thick with want. “Need you clean before I get you filthy again.”

He practically carried me to the private staff shower—big tiled room with multiple heads and benches. The second the hot water hit us, steam curled around our bodies. Tyrone peeled my soaked shirt off, groaning at the sight of my smooth, hairless torso, my tiny breasts with their sensitive pink nipples already peaked and begging. He tossed my shorts aside, eyes dropping to the black lace g-string clinging to my little cock and stretched tight across my wide hips. With one tug he snapped the thin straps, letting the ruined scrap fall, leaving me completely bare—soft, tan, curvy, and trembling.

Water cascaded over his dark, sculpted muscles as he stripped too, and when his sweats dropped my breath caught. His cock sprang free—nine thick inches of dark, veiny meat, heavier than anything I’d ever imagined, the fat head already glistening. It bobbed with his heartbeat, curving slightly upward, balls heavy and pendulous beneath.

Tyrone backed me against the tiled wall, water sluicing between us. One massive hand tangled in my wet hair, tilting my pretty face up as he claimed my mouth—deep, hungry kisses, his tongue fucking into me like a preview. His other hand roamed everywhere: pinching my puffy nipples until I cried out, gripping my tiny waist, then sliding down to spread my plump ass cheeks wide under the spray. I felt cool air hit my exposed hole for a second before his thick finger traced the pink, hairless ring, circling teasingly.

“Such a perfect little pussy,” he rumbled against my lips. “Been dreaming about ruining this fat ass.”

I dropped to my knees without being told, water pounding my back as I stared up at him—hazel eyes wide and needy, lips parted. His cock loomed over my face, so big I had to use both hands to wrap around the base. The skin was velvet over steel, veins throbbing under my palms. I started slow, dragging my tongue up the underside from balls to tip, tracing every ridge, lapping at the fat crown until it leaked salty precum across my tongue. I opened wide and took the head in, lips stretching obscenely around his girth, cheeks hollowing as I sucked greedily. He groaned, hips rocking gently, feeding me inch after thick inch until the bulbous head nudged my throat. I gagged, eyes watering, but forced myself down—nose finally buried in his trimmed pubes, throat convulsing around him as I held him there, worshipping with tight, rhythmic swallows.

Tyrone cursed, fingers tightening in my wet hair. “Fuck yes, pretty girl—choke on that dick.”

He fucked my throat slow and deep after that, letting me feel every vein dragging over my tongue, my lips stretched shiny and red around him. Drool and water mixed, running down my chin onto my little breasts. My own cock bobbed untouched, leaking steadily, but all I cared about was the massive dick using my mouth.

Eventually he pulled me off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting my swollen lips to his glistening cock. He hauled me up, spun me around, and pressed my front to the cool tile. My cheek rested against the wall, ass pushed out instinctively, legs spread. His huge hands gripped my hips and yanked them back further until I was bent nearly in half, chunky ass high in the air, back arched deeply, thighs trembling. Water poured down my spine and between my spread cheeks.

He dropped to his knees behind me, growling at the sight. Both big hands grabbed a plush cheek and spread me open wide, exposing my smooth, pink hole completely. Cool air kissed it for a second before his hot tongue dragged up my taint and circled my rim in one slow, filthy lick. I keened, fingers scrabbling at the tile as he devoured me—tongue spearing inside, fucking in and out, then flattening to lap broad stripes from my balls all the way up. He sucked on my rim like it was a mouth, making obscene wet noises, spit dripping down my thighs mixed with shower water. Every time his tongue pushed inside I felt my hole flutter and wink, greedy for more.

Two thick fingers joined his tongue suddenly, pressing in alongside it, stretching me open with a burn that made me sob in pleasure. He twisted and scissored them, curling to rub that spot inside that made my knees buckle and my little cock spurt a bead of precum onto the floor. He added a third finger, pumping hard and fast now, opening me up while his mouth stayed latched to my hole, sucking and licking like he was starving for my taste.

I was babbling nonsense—pretty pleas and broken whimpers—when he finally stood. His cockhead nudged my loosened entrance, slick with spit and water. He pushed in slow, relentless, letting me feel every fat inch spreading my ring impossibly wide. I screamed as the thickest part breached me, then moaned like a slut as he slid deeper, deeper, until his hips met my plush ass and his heavy balls rested against mine. He held there, letting me adjust to being completely stuffed, my walls fluttering around the invasion.

Then he started to move.

His first thrusts were slow, dragging that huge dick almost all the way out until just the head tugged at my rim, then slamming back in until my ass cheeks rippled. Each impact forced a girly cry from my throat, my small breasts jiggling, nipples scraping the tile. He picked up speed, pounding me against the wall, water splashing everywhere. My cock swung untouched beneath me, slapping my belly with every thrust.

He pulled out suddenly, spun me around, and lifted me like I weighed nothing—hands under my thighs, spreading me wide as he pinned me to the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking, and he slid back in with one brutal thrust. Face to face now, he fucked me deep and hard, watching my pretty features twist with every stroke. My wet hair stuck to my cheeks, hazel eyes glassy, mouth open on constant moans. He kissed me messy and filthy, swallowing every sound as his cock pistoned into my guts.

I came hands-free like that—body seizing, hole clamping down rhythmically as I shot weak ropes across his abs, vision whiting out. He growled into my mouth and kept fucking me through it, dragging the orgasm out until I was sobbing from overstimulation.

Tyrone wasn’t done. He lowered me to one of the benches, pushed me onto my back, and hooked my knees over his broad shoulders. My ass hung off the edge, completely exposed. He folded me nearly in half, my own thighs pressed to my chest, chunky ass tilted up toward him. In this position he could go deepest—his cock punched against my prostate on every thrust, making me see stars. He leaned over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other gripping my throat tightly as he railed me, balls slapping my ass so hard the sound echoed off tile.

“Gonna breed this perfect pussy,” he snarled.

I begged for it, voice high and broken. “Please—fill me up—want your cum so bad—”

He roared, hips stuttering, and slammed in to the root. I felt his cock swell impossibly thick, then the hot flood as he pumped rope after thick rope deep inside me. My walls milked him greedily, another orgasm ripping through me just from the sensation of being bred, my little cock dribbling weakly onto my belly.

He stayed buried for a long minute, both of us panting under the cooling water. Slowly he pulled out, and I whimpered at the sudden emptiness—until his cum started oozing from my gaping, puffy hole in thick white rivulets, running down my crack and over my tailbone. He watched it drip with dark satisfaction, then scooped some onto his fingers and pushed it back inside me, fucking it deeper with slow twists until I was whining again.

Eventually he turned off the water, wrapped me in a towel like I was something precious, and carried my limp, trembling body to the cushioned recovery mats in the corner. But he wasn't finished. He laid me down on my stomach, my plump ass still leaking his load, he straddled my thighs. His cock—still half-hard and shiny with cum and my juices—nestled between my cheeks. He rocked there for a minute, sliding through the mess, before pushing back inside my sloppy hole in one slick thrust.

This time was slower, almost tender—long, deep strokes that made my toes curl. My face was buried in my folded arms, ass arched high to take him, moaning softly with every drag across my prostate. He leaned over me, chest to my back, one arm wrapped under me to toy with my sensitive nipples while the other reached beneath to stroke my oversensitive little cock in time with his thrusts. I came again embarrassingly fast, muffling my cry in the mat as my hole spasmed around him.

Tyrone followed soon after, adding a second thick load that overflowed immediately, bubbling out around his buried cock with every slow pump. When he finally pulled out, my ass was a wrecked, creamy mess—pink rim puffy and glistening, cum dripping steadily onto the mat beneath me.

He rolled me over gently, brushing damp hair from my flushed face, and kissed me soft and deep. “Beautiful,” he murmured against my swollen lips. “Fucking perfect.”

I smiled dazedly, legs still trembling, body humming with aftershocks, utterly claimed and dripping with proof of it. My pretty hazel eyes fluttered shut as his big hands stroked my soft curves, already knowing I’d be back tomorrow—and every day after—begging for more.