Training Session
It's been a couple of weeks, and as I prepare for a hectic move things have slowed down. This certainly isn't my best but wanted to put something out there for the time being. Excuse the errors as I'm sure it's riddled with them.
Training Session
By Laz Briar
"Come on, come on, keep up!"
You're not sure what possessed you to take up this training regimen. Maybe you got a little too excited one night when you signed up. Maybe the idea of having a champion mentor whip you into gear was a more promising prospect than doing it yourself. After all, fitness was one part physical, one part diet, and a whole lot of mental determination.
Or maybe it was the cute squirrel you saw on the ads.
You heave, chest beating, shins on fire, feet sore, face red. It was cardio day, and Roxxan wasn't making it easy on you._If you don't struggle, you'll never improve, champ._Her words. True ones, but not exactly merciful. Because, this translated to pushing yourself every day in some fashion til you were good and sore the next. You would rest one part and work the other, all while under Roxxan's tutelage.
That included cardio. For stamina, according to your trainer. Well, it was only a few weeks, and you weren't noticing any major differences, save for hurting a_little_ less. Damn jogging. Damn running! Who ever invented it was a real bozo, because running was - no,is 足足- the worst.
The squirrel is keeping a healthy pace ahead of you, because for her, this is nothing. It hardly mattered she was part of the rodent family - a species not known for their physical prowess - this girl was the picture of physical health. Every now and again she tosses her eyes back to see you trailing, offering a squeaking scowl, chiding you to get your ass in gear. Be damned, you're certainly trying, but though the spirit is willing, the rest of you isn't quite there yet.
At least the locale she picked is nice.Greenfeather Park was established a few years ago, a nice picturesque little area in sunny California. There are wooded trails and ponds, playgrounds for families, wide spaces for picnics. As for you and your tutor, it's the jogger's path, a conveniently created strip of of cement which snakes around the entire place. Roxxan is expecting about five laps. You're hardly through one.
You groan, just as Roxxan's snaps your attention.
"The hell are you doing back there? Move it!"
You grumble. "I'm trying!" you shout back, trying to hasten your pace.
Before you say anything else, the squirrel bounds off. She's there, and then she's not. Holy_shit_ she can move. She was apparently holding herself back, keeping about a yard between you and her, but now? Well, by the time you're done blinking, she's becoming a dot on the horizon.
Great. You can't wait to hear about this when you reach her.If you reach her. Roxxan isn't just a physical trainer, she's a tutor in other areas. Study, discipline, even fighting, though she snickers at the idea of you attempting the latter. Her program even extends to a living space. You live with her now, sort of, a private room in a renovated gym run by her. She sets curfews and even has you do chores, performance depending. This means if you do good, you catch a break. If you falter, well, it's a lecture and additional duties.
Upon hearing this, one might ask a saner person: "Why?"
You might respond, pleasantly, "for health of course."
But you're honest with yourself. The real reason? That squirrel is thick.
Roxxan somehow blends a built form with womanly curves. It's astonishing, really. How chimera manage this, you don't know, but you're not sure if you care. Her frame is carved with the gentle sinew of hard muscle accompanied with soft, supple curves. Her thighs are pretty wide and could probably split a steal beam and her bust is, well, easily the size of your head. Maybe larger? She's a bit taller than you too, accented with frightening green eyes and cute, short brown hair.
Unfortunately, you've got a weakness for that.
Well, at least your slow pace has a benefit: you can watch Roxxan work herself from the back while she jogs. You don't_dare_ say this out loud though - your mentor could probably throw you through a wall or snap you in half with casual ease, if she wanted. Too bad she'll never snap your pelvis.
So, yes, you're a bit awestruck. But it's not just the fact her tits could smother you to death. Despite her reprisals and chastising, she's also incredibly encouraging. She_wants_you to succeed, pushing you further and further.
You're an ember, I know_you can be a wildfire!_ She's said. And she believes in you, because she believed in herself. No one expects a squirrel to be strong, but she changed that. And now, she's changing you.
Hopefully for the better, because you're about to catch up with her. And not because you suddenly found the will to move faster, no, it's because Roxxan is leaning on a tree, wearing a frustrated expression. Crap. How long did you take?
By the time you get to her, you know to stop, leaning over to catch your breath. You don't have the oxygen for words, and your tutor throws you a water bottle. You muster a breathless a "thanks" as you take a precious few swigs.
You don't want to meet your mentor's gaze, but you force yourself. Yeah, it's as expected. She's peering at you, arms crossed, tail swishing in erratic patterns. One thing you learned about squirrels: they speak through their tails, and right now she was in a fit.
"You know I want five outta' you, right?" she says. "And what, we're barely through mile two?"
You don't know what to say, so you don't say anything.
"You tryin' to fuck with me today, scrub? Because right now, you're wasting_my_ time."
You grunt. That's not really fair, is it?
"I'm just not used to it," you say. "I haven't jogged for very long."
She rolls her eyes. "So you're saying I'm wrong now, huh?"
An accusing point at you. "I know exactly how my students work. I designed my program_specifically_ for you, scrub. Made sure we hit the balance of gain and pain. But now? You're sloppy as shit. You're not in form."
You scratch your head. Ah, well, that's a bit more fair. Yes, the program is one of the toughest things you've done in years, but she isn't wrong. She keeps it within your means. She did test you on a treadmill to see where your drop off points were. It's hard, but you can do it.
But you are slowing down on purpose. For. . . reasons.
"No, I mean, no you're not. . ." You try to stumble a response, but nothing is quite satisfactory.
"I'm not?"
"Wrong," you mutter.
Again, her tail swishes. "Oh I_know_ that. I know that because I can see you dragging. Think I don't notice that, scrub? Or that I don't hear you change your pace when I'm not lookin'?Please."
Oh shit. Your face is a little red now. Yeah, you were purposefully slowing down here and there. One part laziness and one part, well. Squirrel.
Her hands come to hips. Damn, the hips. And double damn, her cleavage. Roxxan tends to wear a purple top and short hot pants when she's exercising, and they sure are generous with the split of her bust. You have to wonder if she does it on purpose.
"What is your fuckin' problem today then? You better not tell me you're tired, cause' that means you were up past curfew."
Shit, what do you say? There's a real answer, and then there's the answers for someone who wants to keep their bones where they are.
"It's nothing," you say weakly, the kind of thing you say when there is absolutely_something._ "I'm just not in it today, I guess."
She scoffs. "Scrub, I hate excuses, and I hate lies."
You know, even though Roxxan is about three years your senior, you practically feel like a child. The world is small and out of focus now, and a sensation of both fear and embarrassment begin to take hold.
"Just distracted," you add, hoping it's enough. "Thinking too much, that's all."
"And?"
Your heart is starting to beat again, but not from fatigue. Oh god, no, you can't say what the reason is. No way!
"It's just personal stuff, that's all."
Roxxan doesn't look satisfied. Her brow raises. "Buddy, I don't care if you shit yourself while we were out here. You better tell me. You don't keep secrets, not with me. That's not how this goes. You put your trust in me so I can make you stronger."
Her fiery expression is still there, as is the sharpness in her tone, but the answer is certainly genuine.
You sigh. "Rox. . . master. I can't, it's just. Yeah. It's embarrassing."
She shrugged, not interested in your deflections. Christ, you felt hot, and Christ you felt like your heart was going to rip itself out of your chest.
"I don't care, scrub. I don't care if you jack off to kid's cartoons eatin' cereal. I don't care if you secretly want to marry your aunt. It's distracting you, it's slowin' you down, and it's slowin'me down. Out with it."
Oh fuck, you really can't get out of this, can you? You glance around, spying random couples and people, wishing you could somehow transport yourself into their life and escape this. But it's not gonna' happen. Damn it. Damn it, running sucks. Damn it, why does your mentor have to be so fucking attractive?
"I just. . ."
Well, if you die today, maybe you'll get lucky. Maybe Roxxan will crack your head between her thighs, or something. Not a bad way to go, right?
"I think . . you're attractive. And I like. . . watching you from behind."
That's it. You're dead. Death is coming. The killing fist will be upon you any moment. You can already picture your funeral, and your tombstone. "Died look at his master's ass."
There's a terrifying pause. You keep your gaze away. You can't look. You don't even think her tail is moving.
"Really?"
A snort. A chittering chuckle.
"Reaaaaallly?"
Roxxan's irritated gaze shifts to a series of laughs, head in palm. "You gotta' be kidding me!"
You're not sure how to feel. Relieved, you suppose, because at least your head isn't where your legs are. At the same time, your cheeks renew with a wave of hot red. Is it really this amusing to her? God, it's like asking out your crush to prom and she's just tickled at the concept, like they would ever settle for_you._
Your tutor wipes a tear from her eye. "Heard lotsa' shit in my day, scrub. 'I'm haunted by my family's death,' or 'my husband left me and I want payback.' But what was it you said? You like watching my ass?"
You blink. You didn't say that!
"I didn't say-"
Her finger comes up. "Pah! Yes you did. Subtext. What the hell else does 'watching from behind mean?' Sure ain't the tail."
You managed to find her face again. She's smirking. Her eyes go over you a few times.
"So. My big fat ass is a distraction, huh?"
You clear your throat. How are you supposed to respond to that? You look around, wondering if any passerby caught this, but no one's close enough to notice.
"Uh, erm."
Sure is, you'd like to say. Damn thing drives you crazy. Well,all of Roxxan does, honestly. The things she could do to you, it was enough to make your knees turn to putty.
"Huh? That ain't a response."
She's quite amused with this, enough that she turns, flinging her haunches into view. Her hands grip the side of hot pants and tug, forcing her wide, orange cheeks to roll into sight. They 'pop' with a subtle bounce, extruded quite generously thanks to the tight split of her pants. Her thick bush tail sways out of the way, and it's clear she's taunting you with a tease.
"Say it, scrub. This distracts you. Admit it."
Her head is half turned, watching you. Damn squirrel even gives her hips a few wiggles, causing the heavy buttocks to rumble together. That's not fair at all! Your chest feels tighter, and so does something else. . .
"Y-yes," you manage. "It does."
She squeaks. "Hah!"
Roxxan releases her grip, letting pants 'snap' back into place. They practically smack her fleshy rear, forcing another jiggle, while she turns, arms crossed once again.
"Well, we got a real fuckin' problem here then, don't we scrub?"
Uh oh. Does this mean the beating will now ensue? You've seen the kind of things Roxxan can lift, and how many replacement sand bags she's required. You grit your teeth.
"How are you gonna' improve yourself if all you want to see is my butt? Slowing down on purpose, I swear. . ."
You gulp. "I'll stop, I promise."
It's true. . . you think. After all, it's not only your physical being at stake - you'd have to find a new place for yourself if the squirrel threw you out. Not easy in this town.
She's not convinced though, shaking her head.
"Hah, no you won't. I can see it in your eyes. Hell I could read your mind right now, if I wanted."
Your mentor says this as she struts forward, and you brace for a punch. Well, you don't get it. Rather her finger comes to prod your forehead. You blush again, because the proximity of her curves isn't exactly making this easy. And god, you can smell her, her scent is so good, like vanilla perfume. The light is catching her fiery orange fur just right, dancing off her brown bangs, and her tits are practically spilling out of her purple top.
"I_know_ what's happening in there. Imagining this thick, fat ass just bouncing in front of you. How about on the treadmill, huh? Or on a bike, ass in the air?"
You gulp again. Why the hell was she saying this? It wasn't making things any easier!
"Uh. . ."
She waves her hand. "Yeah, yeah. You think you've got control, but you don't, scrub. Even with all this, you probably want to get your hands all over me, right now."
She's partially right. You're certainly afraid for your wellbeing, but on the other hand, danger is. . . alluring. And her crass, forward nature isn't aiding things. Sure, you wouldn't mind just having a touch, or seeing her bounce (in more ways than one). But, you also like the idea of having fingers and hands for the rest of your life.
Roxxan flicks your chest. "Well, ain't gonna' happen, not like this."
Oh. Your heart sinks. Well, what were you expecting.
"Not unless you speed the fuck up."
You blink. Your heart rises? What's that supposed to mean.
Roxxan casts a glance down the long, winding sidewalk trail, then back to you.
"Yeah, scrub, you've got too much of that wild young blood in ya'. Unfortunately, you're using it all the wrong ways. This'll keep being a problem unless I fix it_today."_
You don't know what that means. Fix it? Fix how?
"What are you saying?"
Again, you look around, like the conversation is private and some random jogger might ruin the whole thing just by running by.
She smirks, and she's got the devil in her eyes.
"I'm saying, ya' pontz, if you want my thick ass, you better fuckin' work for it."
She starts hopping from side to side, loosening herself up, gesturing at the road.
"No more of this weak shit." She turns again, and her bubbly bottom comes into view. Even from the back, you can see her buxom chest wobble too. God.
She pats her immense orange curves, chittering at you. "Eyes on the prize, scrub. You keep up with me, and I'll sort you out myself."
You're wide eyed, body turning to liquid fire. Was this real? Was she saying this in true, or just mocking you to make you work harder? Or did it even matter, at this point?_If I work hard, I get her._That was the deal, wasn't it? And, you never knew her for mischief or going back on her word.
Sort you out. That's what she said.
"What do I need to do?" you say with renewed confidence. Her tall ears flick, catching the sternness in your voice.
The squirrel grins. "That's what I like to hear."
Another gesture at the path. "No slowing down, at all. All five laps. You keep your eyes where you need em'."
She comes to you one more time, and she chitters in your ear. "You keep up with me and you won't even have a dick by the time I'm done with you tonight."
Huh. Is it possible to feel terrified and aroused at the same time? That's where you are.
Your voice cracks. "Yes ma'am."
She shoves you with playful force, nodding. "Good. Now let's get a move on."
And move you do. The moment she bounds for the trail, you're right with her. Still behind, as it were, but focused, where you should be. Right on the mark, and you ignore the screams of your legs or the pain in your body. Because it's all going to be worth it, right?
You're caught in a vortex of fitness and lust. You do your best to keep thoughts on what's ahead, because the supposed prize is richer than anything you could've dreamed of. Yet still, damn, your eyes wander, and you nearly trip a few times. The way Roxxan's hips move at her pace. . . the way her backside tosses with teasing jiggles. . .
Damn. You're doing everything you can to avoid a stiff in public. But that curvy squirrel frame isn't helping, and the gentle, euphoric rush you feel from endorphins isn't making it easy either. And hell, it's not_just_ Roxxan's wide hips or bouncy, bigger-than-your-head breasts. It's her. She's graceful and moves with practiced confidence. The delicate flex of her built form send shivers through you, as you're looking at someone who achieved a magnificent frame through sheer determination, even when he world said she couldn't.
She doesn't take shit from the world and lends you that same, fiery spirit. If someone like her believes in you, then that makes it all worth it.
The laps go a lot faster than you think. Maybe it's because you're a bit distracted. Hell, you get eyefuls of her thick haunches when you dash up a few hills, the short grasp of her pants slipping upward as you both make the climb. It makes you shudder, and time and physical pain just melt away. Before you know it, you've wrapped up your rounds, gulping in hot breaths as you hit the final lap.
You're at the start of the trail, where the entrance to the park is, Roxxan grabbing a towel from her car and wiping off beads of sweat. While she's not nearly as overworked as you, you can't help but notice the way her plump chest heaves with every little breath.
"Not bad, scrub," she says in praise, tossing you a cold water bottle. You catch it, eagerly drinking it down.
"Damn, you must_really_want this ass then. I think that's the hardest you've worked since I started trainin' ya."
You offer a chuckle. It's true, certainly. How could you_not_ be motivated? Your tutor had plans, and by morning you might not even have a pelvis left.
She squeaks with laughter. "Hah! If I had known that I might've modified your regimen a bit."
You blush. You weren't sure if she was serious, but you certainly wouldn't mind.
After you catch your breath, you finish the water and chance a question.
"So, uh, what now?"
Her tail swishes, and she gestures. "Now? We go home and clean up. Get your protein in. You forget about that?"
"Oh, uh. No."
Roxxan smirks. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, scrub. I didn't forget the deal. But you're gonna' need all the energy you can get if want a go with me."
You nod. Yeah, you don't doubt any of that. In fact, you're not even sure how long you can last with the squirrel. Was she even capable of getting tired?
After she finishes toweling, you head back home with her. It's a comforting place, a mix between gym and private living space. It's quite small too, with two floors - one for training and the above for the living quarters. You've got a tiny space to yourself, enough to fit most of your belongings with and a bathroom. Beyond that, there's a common area and then Roxxan's own room, but, you don't get to see that.
You shower off and go down to eat not long after. Your squirrely mentor has set up specific meals for you at certain times of the day, stuff to help with energy. You're greatly appreciative, even if she doesn't join you for the meal.
That's probably for the best. Your thoughts, after all, are pretty goddamn distracted. A slew of sordid ideas keep running through your mind. You think about your mentor at the park again, jogging, only this time, she's bottomless. You imagine her lifting weights, the sinewy muscle flex as she works the iron, and then saunters over to work something else. . .
You try to shake it off. Come on, gotta' focus. You have no idea with the squirrel intends later, but you want to be ready.
When you finish eating, you return to your room and try to distract yourself with meditation. It helps, but only a little. Your thoughts are a little too squirrely. . .
-*-
When evening comes, the streets are alive with the gentle rumble of cars and singing insects. You're in a section of the city that's not too busy, though not the boonies, either. It's calm enough, and fills you with a sense of deep comfort. You can build your life out here, especially under the tutelage of your master.
Of course, tonight, you're not getting a routine lesson by the looks of things. By now, you're eager too. You don't know what to expect, but it's certainly worth it, whatever the squirrel has in store. For a while, you do your best to keep your thoughts controlled, browsing a few non-specific things online or reading the daily bucket of news. It isn't until you hear a gentle knock on your door that your heart flips.
"Scrub? Meet me downstairs."
Roxxan's voice is like a song to you, and at once you stumble downstairs. You don't even know what to do you with yourself, really. What do you say? What_should_ you say? You're a mess of anxious excitement, and all you can rely on is what the feisty squirrel has in store for you.
You make your way downstairs to the gym. Usually by this time it's locked up with lights off, but this time around the blinds are snapped shut with everything on. It's got what anyone could need for self-improvement, populated with weights of various types to shape one's body into peak condition.
But as you enter, you're not alone. In the corner of your eye, you catch Roxxan's silhouette. Granted, she's kind of hard to miss what with the big, flicking tail. But something is different this time around.
"Heads up!"
You almost don't see the bottle as it comes careening towards your head. Thankfully, you have decent reflexes, and catch the strange shape. It's orange glass with an acorn emblazoned on it; you recognize it, having seen Roxxan drink from something like it every now and again.
"You're gonna' need it, scrub."
Your gaze shifts. You spy your tutor, but not as you expect. More like something out of a dream, really.
She's there all right, in the corner of the gym room, but she's decided to abstain from bottoms. Her wide, plump hips and built thighs are exposed, along with the tuft of pubic fur complimenting the sinew of her shape. A top still holds in her massive tits, but only just so. And, like before, she's wearing a devilish smirk, fiery green eyes locked on you, arms crossed.
Your throat catches. Shit. She's even thicker without clothes on.
"Well? Gonna' drink or what?"
You blink, gaze flicking between the strange concoction you were tossed and your half naked teacher. You don't know where to begin.
"Uh, er, what is it?" you say, voice breaking.
Roxxan's tail swishes. "Angry Acorn, champ. Should put the fire in ya."
You don't know what this is supposed to be. Alcohol, most likely. But, who cared at this point? You were getting what you wanted. So, you snap open the top and take a quick draft, coughing at once.
It_burns._ You've had a mixed spice rum once before, and that was intense, but this? You almost spit it out, but you don't dare disappoint the squirrel. Gasping, you manage to get a gulp down, and it's like an inferno in your stomach.
"Holy shit," you say, coughing. This incites a few giggles from your tutor.
"Atta' boy. Now, get the fuck over here."
You feel like you need a moment to recover, but, best not keep the girl waiting. You set the drink aside for now, hoping the quick sips you took was enough. Mind re-focusing, you approach the squirrel, doing your best to keep eyes above her waist. You're not sure why though - if she wanted to be prudent she would've had something on, right? And damn, even her naval is inviting. Something about the toned tummy leading a stare downwards, it was so inviting. . .
As you approach, you shudder. But not from the proximity of your attractive master. Something else is stirring in you. The drink seems to slither through you, turning your blood to fire. You feel excited, energized, more than usual. And, oh shit. Your loins are uh, well, getting busy. Like you're about to have the hardest stiff in your entire life.
Roxxan notices this, giving your covered loins a once over.
"Good to see you've still got enthusiasm," she says with a grin. "Well, scrub, deal's a deal. You worked hard today. And all it took was the promise of getting your dick pounded in, huh?"
You laugh, nervous. "I guess, yeah."
Roxxan rolls her eyes. "You guess? Ptsh. The way that cock is screamin' right now it's like you haven't gotten laid in years."
You ignore that, because it's true. In the meanwhile, Roxxan shifts, slowly turning her frame. Her big, wiggling tail raises out of the way, presenting the hefty, orange cheeks for you to get eyefuls of.
"Well? Go on then. Get a nice long look. Have your fun."
Her hips toss in slow, tedious metronome motions, coaxing you on. You look, certainly, in complete disbelief. Was this real? How did you even proceed?
Well, by looking, you supposed.
The Angry Acorn also loosens your tongue. "Damn. Damn, master. How did you get so. . . big?"
It feels good to just say, let the question leave you. Something about indulging the thoughts you have, it lights another inferno in you, that only the touch of flesh and fur can satisfy. Roxxan just squeaks with laughter.
"I do a lot of squats and eat specific foods for it," she says, quite matter-of-factly. "Are you tryin' to ask why I have such a huge fucking ass, scrub?"
You blink. "Erm."
"I'll take that as a yes."
She pushes back, bumping your loins with her rump. "God, what the hell are you doing? You don't have to just stare, you know."
How can you not though? It's right there. All of her is. But, you take the hint and, the drink is making you rather hungry. Yet, you're still a bit apprehensive. This is your tutor, after all. What if you do something wrong?
"I'm not sure. . ."
Roxxan shakes her head, laughing. "Jeeze. Even with it_right_ there you're still clueless, huh?"
Again, she presses her backside into you. Puff tail wraps around your back, pulling you in, and damn, from here you can really appreciate just how "much" of her there is. Her haunches alone eclipse your waist, and the way her sloping cheeks embrace your hidden loins sends another wave of shivers through you.
"What, you want me to bounce it for ya'?"
She tosses herself a bit, allowing the hefty orange peach to wobble and softly clap together. Even with all the built muscle complimenting her frame, so much of Roxxan is still supple and jiggly. She laughs again, taking her palms and gripping the rump flesh, tossing it a few times. Your eyes are locked onto the sordid sight, and a part of you still can't believe this is happening.
"Holy shit. . ." you mutter.
If your words don't emphasize arousal, then your member certainly does. Workout attire doesn't do much for prudence, unable to hold back the hungry inches prodding through the fabric.
"Yeah, that's fuckin' right," says the squirrel. "I don't work hard for nothin."
Again, she wiggles her hips, and her rump tosses together with delayed sashays. She seems to be enjoying herself, maybe as much as you.
"Why don't ya' give it a smack already?"
Her words, combined with the fiery surge of the Angry Acorn make it hard to resist the impulses swimming through your head. There's probably a hundred things you want to do to your master. Or, want her to do to you. But, suppose this'll do for now.
You grunt, and your hands finally reach out. Not exactly smacking, not yet. But your palms clap into the generous backside and are met with the warm, silky sensation of soft fur and flesh. It's practically viscous, despite Roxxan's muscle, with so much generous bottom that it practically engulfs your fingers. You squeeze, and_hard,_heart racing as you finally get handfuls of the incredible, thick ass that's been teasing you for months.
You grope and pet over the expanse of rump, inciting approving chirps from your mentor. Her bush tail flicks with excited twirls, while she wiggles herself into your touches, the ripe orange fur glistening under gym light.
"That's more like it. . ."
Her approval is all you need. You give the bottom a gentle smack, watching the cheeks wobble in hefty reciprocation. They're quick echoes, like tossing a stone into a pond, except this pond happens to be squirrel butt. With the Angry Acorn raging through you, while also granting a 'rager,' you chance a bit more.
"It's so much," you manage to mutter again. "Amazing."
Now, you pull apart the split of her peach rump, exposing the gentle snatch. This stirs an amused chitter from Roxxan, who lowers a bit, granting you an easier view.
"Takin' a nice long look huh? Well, guess it's fine. You earned it."
You're delighted to hear it, so, you take advantage of the opportunity. Spread are those thick cheeks, and the delicate folds of Roxxan's lips come into view, traced with a thicket of pubic fur. It's certainly enticing, and the stiff in your loins is aching to free itself, plunge right into that awaiting hole. But, lusty s you are, even sense won't allow you. Despite everything, you're sure Roxxan is still calling the shots.
You release the haunches and they smack back in place, inciting a subtle 'ah' from the squirrel.
She turns her head back to give you a once over, smirking.
"I take it you're havin' fun?" she says, whapping you with her tai. Before you can respond, she twirls around, breasts wobbling together beneath the grip of purple sports top.
Her palm comes to cup you at the groin, granting you an excited shock.
"Y-yeah," you manage, as she begins to caress your hidden length. She squeaks, squeezing you, drawing out a few pleased moans.
"Sure seems that way. How long you been hidin' this howitzer from me, scrub?"
She's gotta' be exaggerating. You don't have shame about yourself, but you're not quite endowed, with say, the equipment of an equine. Is she feeding your ego on purpose? Well, the voracious side of you certainly likes it, twitching against her motions.
Roxxan looks around, huffing. "Let's take this somewhere else."
Once again, before you can respond she snags you by the cock and tugs at you, a rather rough way to beckon you on. Wordlessly, you follow the squirrel back upstairs, where the tutor throws her hips from side to side in obviously exaggerated motions for your viewing pleasure.
You expect to return to your room, but instead, Roxxan leads you by the wrist into her own. You're amazed, because it's the first time you've ever set foot in her private sanctum. Granted, you don't get much of a look; before you know it, Roxxan has practically thrown you onto her bed, where you land with a loud 'oomph.'
Almost at once, she snaps out of her purple top, and dear lord, her buxom, fat chest wiggles free. Thick tits slap and bounce together, perky brown nips accenting the enormous sacs. Damn, your observations from before weren't wrong - those things easily eclipse your head. You'd probably suffocate under them if she forced them on you.
"Wow, h-hah, I gotta' work hard more often," you say, your cock practically tearing through the fabric of your shorts.
Roxxan saunters close, looking down at you, standing near the bed's edge.
"You should be doin' that all the time, scrub."
Her hand reaches over and, with one brisk motion, she slips you out of your sport shorts and briefs. Your cock springs free, and the cool air feels good against the utterly searing heat pulsing through your loins. Roxxan tosses away the garments, allowing a digit to stroke against your tip. You shiver, the soft fur and new sensation sending waves of excitement through you.
"But I guess we found your proper motivator, huh?"
Now, the squirrel crawls atop the bed, her plump chest pancaking into your own.
"Maybe next time I'll choke the life outta' your dick with my tits, assuming you survive this anyway."
You gulp, from excitement and a little genuine fear. "I'll just have to train harder," you say, feeling goosebumps as Roxxan's hard nips trace over you.
She grins, and her fiery green eyes pour into your own. She doesn't quip back, only leans and licks your ear, buck teeth nibbling, whispering.
"Atta boy," she says, propping up her huge haunches, your cock resting between the split of her immense cheeks.
You gasp, because you feel her squeeze, wiggling as she caresses your mast with her plump rump. And, once more, she's heavy. Not just from the big butt, but all that muscle isn't just for show. You had to wonder, were you going to come out of this unscathed?
Her hot lips stroke against your prick now, not quite sodden, but slick enough to where you can tell she's getting aroused too. You can't help but grasp her wide hips, clenching for support, your gaze filled with her cleavage.
She chitters, raising herself until her snatch comes to suckle the tip of your mast. A low groan escapes you, and you almost buck into her.
"You ready, scrub?" she chimes, stroking your hair.
"I hope so," you mutter with a nervous laugh.
Roxxan grunts, then hilts herself with your malehood. It's a slow, but slippery motion, and her tight walls embrace you with hot, caressing delight. You manage another pleased groan as the squirrel wriggles herself on you, until she's plunged you deep inside her.
"Oh s-shit," you say, your nether region utterly crushed by the tight squeeze of your squirrely tutor's muscular, thick thighs.
"Mmf, not bad," says Roxxan, putting her hands on your shoulders. "Now then. . ."
You hardly hear her, though, because the Angry Orchard and satisfaction of being buried in the curvaceous squirrel has sent you to heaven. You grip her hard now, palms roaming from hips to ass, your face consumed by the sight of her breasts, licking at the nips when they brush across you. Then, Roxxan raise, and for a moment you feel the cool room air tickle your under-flesh.
Smack.
You almost lose your breath, because the impact of Roxxan's 'fall' hits you hard. It's like being punched to orgasm - wonderful yet, packing a wallop.
"Fuck!"
You say this as Roxxan does it again, rising and crashing down with loud, audible claps. The weight of her fat bottom mixed with power in her thighs should probably count as a lethal weapon. The bed whines in protest, wobbling as the squirrel begins a torrent of bucks, bouncing herself on you with greater strength each time.
You gasp with every strike, because she's practically smashing into you. What started as a gentle throw of hips and loins has now become a rapid torrent of tosses. It's simultaneously incredible and concerning. Your cock is exploding with waves of searing bliss, but at the same time, you're damn sure your waist is getting bruise.
Roxxan's squeaks have morphed to grunts now too, like she's combatting a foe. Her grip on you is hard as steel, and you're grateful she has enough self-control not to dig her claws into you. You attempt to buck back, though, it's completely useless. She's pounding you through the bed and at this rate, she might snap the floor in half.
"That'sfuckingood!" she chitters with approval, her bounces hastening, leaving less space between ascent and fall.
Your eyes are clenched shut, and your malehood is roiling over, ready for release. Damn, you wish you had more stamina, but against Roxxan's relentless assault, it's hard to maintain any kind of resilience. As if sensing this, Roxxan pushes her nose into yours.
"Come on scrub, show me what you got!"
What you 'got' may not be as much as you want, but it's something. The whole of yourself trembles, shuddering from head to toe, cock twitching inside the warm, tight walls of Roxxan. Then, like a surge of electricity, you burst, harder than you ever have in your entire life. You grip your mentor's hips as pools of white hot jettison into your master, soaking her as she clamps down on you. You're locked in, breathing through orgasm, a few waves of seed spilling out, essentially milked for whatever Roxxan thinks you're worth.
By the time she's done battering you into the sheets, you think you hear something crack. Roxxan shivers, stiffening, her back arching as she reaches her own peak - and thank goodness, because you didn't know how long you could take the sensation of a post-orgasm cock.
When it subsides, she breathes, but not too heavily. Much like the jog before, this appears to be little more than a warm up for her. For you, it's like another five-mile run.
"Not bad," she says, rising, your softening flank still buried in her. Eventually, she raises enough where you pop free, a sticky trail following the act.
You're covered in a gentle glisten of sweat, sucking in gulps of air. Roxxan wiggles on you, smirking with amusement.
"See why there's so much importance to stamina training, scrub?"
You nod, chucking weakly. "I do now."
Her eyes look wild again. "Good. Now, round two."
You blink. Was she being serious?
"Y-you can't be for real. . ."
All this does is incite a squirrelly laugh from your tutor. "Hah! You wanted it, scrub. Don't tell me after just one go you're already tuckered out?"
You try to think of something in protest, but there's not much that comes to mind. Oh god, she really_is_going to snap you in half, isn't she?
After a moment of brief reprieve, you moan loudly, because Roxxan has worked you to full mast and slipped you into her warm folds. Like before, she's ready to bang you through the bed.
You don't really remember what happens for the rest of the night. Lots of squeaking, smacking, and splintering furniture. It fades to a lusty haze, and you're sure you eventually pass out.
When morning comes, Roxxan isn't in bed. Probably making breakfast or getting the gym ready. Which is strange, normally you have a timetable to keep. You attempt to move, but are halted immediately by the radiant soreness echoing throughout your loins. Oh fuck. For kicks, you do in fact check if your dick is still there. It is.
Unable to move, you lie back, limp as a fish. You revel in the fact that you had a night with your master. You feel anxiety over the next time, assuming there is one.
Well, that's one way to get in a training session.