Fucking my BBC gym instructor #1

~Kenya's POV~

The clang of weights had become my new heartbeat, but it wasn’t the iron that kept dragging me back to Iron Haven Gym three times a week like clockwork.

It was him. Maleek.

Six-foot-four of solid, dark-skinned muscle, veins popping along his biceps like they had their own pulse, and that deep, lazy baritone that made every correction sound like a promise.

I told myself I was here for the glutes. But my body knew better.

At twenty-seven, I’d sworn off messy entanglements after my last situationship imploded. Career in marketing, decent apartment in the city, a vibrator that never ghosted me.

But every time Maleek spotted me on the squat rack, his big hands hovering just above my hips without quite touching, sweat glistening on his shaved head and dripping down the deep cut of his chest, something feral woke up low in my belly.

I wanted to hate how wet I got just from the smell of his cologne mixed with clean sweat. Sike... I couldn’t.

That particular Thursday started like the others. I showed up at 7:30 PM, right before the after-work crowd thinned out. Leggings that hugged my ass a little too well, sports bra compressing my full tits, hair pulled into a messy ponytail.

Maleek was finishing with his last client, a middle-aged guy grunting through deadlifts. His eyes flicked to me across the floor and held. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his full lips.

“Kenya,” he called, voice carrying easy over the music. “You’re early tonight. Trying to show off those gains or you just couldn’t wait to see me?”

I rolled my eyes but felt heat bloom across my cheeks. “Keep dreaming, coach. I’m here to make my ass unignorable, not entertain your ego.”

He chuckled, low and rough, dismissing the other client with a fist bump before sauntering over. Up close he was overwhelming... broad shoulders straining his black compression shirt, gym shorts doing nothing to hide the heavy outline of what he was packing. I forced my gaze up.

We ran through my usual circuit. Squats first. He stood behind me, close enough that I felt the heat radiating off his body.

“Ass back, chest up. Good girl... there it is.”

His praise hit different tonight. Every rep made my pussy throb against the seam of my leggings. By the time we moved to hip thrusts, my nipples were tight peaks against my bra and I was praying he couldn’t smell how turned on I was.

“Fuck, look at that form,” he murmured as I drove my hips up, barbell across my pelvis. His hand finally made contact, firm, guiding the angle. “You’re getting stronger. Bet you feel it everywhere, don’t you?”

I bit my lip, exhaling shakily.

“Everywhere,” I admitted, voice breathier than I wanted.

His eyes darkened. And for a second the gym noise faded. Then he stepped back like nothing happened.

“Cool down and stretch. I’ll be closing up soon.”

Most nights I’d leave right after. Tonight I lingered in the locker room, pretending to scroll through my phone while the last stragglers filtered out. The main lights dimmed. And I heard the front door lock click.

My heart hammered as I stepped back onto the floor. Maleek was wiping down equipment, back muscles flexing. He glanced up.

“Thought you left.”

“Couldn’t,” I said, walking toward him before my brain caught up. “Been thinking about this for weeks.”

He straightened slowly, towel slung over one massive shoulder. “Yeah? Thinking about what exactly, Kenya?”

I stopped a foot away, close enough to smell him. “You. Me. This tension every session. I’m tired of pretending I come here just for the workout Coach.”

Maleek’s jaw flexed. He looked me up and down like he was deciding whether to devour me or send me home. Then he closed the distance, one big hand sliding to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my ponytail.

Not gentle... Possessive.

“You sure you know what you’re asking for?” His voice dropped, rough. “Because once I start, I don’t do soft and sweet. I fuck like I train... hard, deep, and until you’re shaking.”

My pussy clenched and I responded.

“I’m sure. I can take it.”

He didn’t kiss me right away. He walked me backward until my ass hit the padded bench press station, then spun me around so I was bent over it, hands gripping the bar. The position left my ass pushed out toward him in these thin leggings.

“Been watching this ass bounce for months,” he growled, palming one cheek hard enough to make me gasp. “Teasing me in these tight-ass pants every session. You knew what you were doing Kenya?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

His hand cracked down in a sharp spank. The sting bloomed hot and perfect. “Say it properly.”

“I knew exactly what I was doing, Maleek. I wanted you to notice me. To want... and use me like your personal slut.”

Another spank, harder. I moaned, pushing back into his hand. He hooked his fingers into my waistband and yanked my leggings and thong down in one rough motion, exposing me to the cool gym air.

I was soaked. Strings of arousal connecting my pussy to the fabric.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, dropping to his knees behind me. “Look at this pretty pussy dripping already.”

His tongue dragged up my slit in one long, filthy stroke. And I cried out, legs trembling. He ate me like a man starved, sucking my clit, tongue fucking into me, groaning against my flesh.

Two thick fingers pushed inside, curling against my sweet spot, while he devoured me. The wet sounds were obscene in the empty gym.

“Fuck... Maleek, oh shit, I’m gonna cum.”

He pulled back right before I tipped over, spanking my ass again.

“Not yet. You come when I say you can.”

He stood, spinning me to face him. His shorts were tented obscenely. I reached for them, but he grabbed my wrist.

“On your knees first. Show me how bad you’ve been wanting this big, black cock.”

I sank down eagerly on the cool floor. He shoved his shorts down and holy fuck.

His cock sprang out... thick, meaty, and veined, at least seven inches with a fat, flushed head already leaking precum. Darker than the rest of him, beautiful and intimidating. I wrapped both hands around the base and still had room.

“Impressive, huh?” he smirked, gripping my ponytail. “Now, open that pretty mouth and suck it.”

I did without hesitation. He fed me his cock slowly at first, letting me swirl my tongue around the head, tasting the salty precum. Then he pushed deeper, hitting the back of my throat. I gagged, eyes watering, but relaxed and took more.

He groaned, hips flexing.

“That’s it baby... Fuck! Take this black cock down your throat like a good fucking slut. Goddamn, your mouth feels better than I imagined.”

I moaned around him, bobbing, sucking, using my hands on what I couldn’t swallow. Saliva dripped down my chin onto my tits. He fucked my face with controlled thrusts, never too brutal but dominant as hell, his hand tight in my hair, murmuring filthy praise.

“Look at you choking on this big black cock in the middle of the gym. Any security camera catch this and everybody's gonna know what a nasty bitch you are for your trainer.”

The degradation made me throb. I reached between my legs and rubbed my clit. He pulled out suddenly, strings of spit connecting my lips to his glistening shaft.

“Not yet. Get up here.”

He lifted me like I weighed nothing, carrying me to the smith machine. My back hit the cool metal. He stripped my sports bra off, freeing my heavy breasts. His mouth latched onto one nipple, sucking hard while his fingers pinched and rolled the other.

I arched, moaning loudly.

“These tits been driving me crazy,” he growled against my skin. “Bounce so nice when you run on the treadmill.”

He dropped to his knees again, throwing one of my legs over his shoulder and burying his face back in my pussy. This time he didn’t stop.

Fingers pumping, tongue flicking my clit relentlessly until I came hard, thighs shaking, crying out his name as my juices coated his chin.

Before I could recover, he stood, lined up his thick cock at my entrance and pushed in, slow, stretching me open inch by inch. The burn exquisite.

“Fuuuuck,” I whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders. “You’re so fucking big Maleek.”

“And you're tight as hell,” he grunted, bottoming out. “This pussy's gripping me like it owns me. Been saving this wet nasty cunt for your trainer, right?”

“Yes... fuck, yes. Break me, Maleek.”

He did.

Hard. Deep strokes that slammed into me, the smith machine rattling with every thrust. One hand wrapped around my throat... light pressure, enough to make my head spin with pleasure. The other slapped my ass in rhythm.

“Take this fat cock. Take every fucking inch like the hungry bitch you are.” His voice was gravel. “Nobody else gets this pussy but me. You hear me?”

I nodded frantically, moaning brokenly with every thrust. He pulled out, spun me around, bent me over the bench again and slammed back in from behind. The new angle hit deeper. His balls slapped my clit. He reached around and rubbed tight circles there.

I came again, screaming into my own arm, as he kept pounding through it, grunting obscenely.

“I'm gonna fill this tight pussy up if you keep squeezing me like that.”

Suddenly, he pulled out at the last second, stroking his slick cock.

“On your knees Kenya.”

And I dropped down. He painted my tits and face with creamy spurts of his cum, groaning deep as he emptied himself. I licked what I could reach, tasting us.

We stayed there panting, half-dressed, sweat-slick in the empty gym. He pulled me up, kissing me properly for the first time... deep, hungry, and possessive.

We didn’t bother cleaning up right away. Maleek grabbed a couple of fresh towels from the stack near the front desk, wiped the worst of the mess off my tits and face with surprising gentleness, then pulled me against his chest.

His heart was still hammering. Mine too.

“Shit, Kenya,” he murmured into my hair, voice husky. “You’re trouble. The kind I knew I shouldn’t touch but couldn’t stop thinking about every time you walked in here sweating and looking back at me like you wanted to get ruined.”

I laughed softly, still buzzing, my thighs sticky. “You ruined me pretty good already. That dick should definitely come with a warning label.”

He smirked, tilting my chin up.

“And you took every inch like you were made for it. Greedy fucking throat and that tight pussy squeezing me dry. We’re doing this again. Soon.”

We dressed in the dim light, stealing kisses that kept threatening to turn into round two. He walked me to my car, one big hand on the small of my back.

“Text me when you get home. And don't forget to hydrate. You’re gonna need it for our next session.”

I drove home in a daze, pussy still throbbing, replaying every filthy word and the way he’d stretched me open. I came again in the shower just thinking about doing it all over again.