Ringing My Trainer’s Bell : Age Gap Breeding 23 (Breeding Erotica Age Gap Erotica): Age-Gap Breeding, #23

By Kimmy Welsh

An injury to my trainer Mr. Dempsey's knee had put paid to his boxing career early on, so when I decide to don the gloves he's more than happy to live out his fantasy of stardom through me.

He trains me after the gym's closed and we start to work on my combinations, but I didn't realize one of the exercises involved slipping him inside me!

Read how he puts me on the canvas and gives me every inch of himself!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kimmy Welsh
• Release date: Apr 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393958970

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Read An Excerpt

It’s not a game, he said, turning to me and doing a good job of keeping eye contact.

I breathed heavy.  It could be.

Ross swallowed and the two of us stared across at each other, suspended in some kind of cross-roads of decision-making.

We both knew what we should have done, of course, but I wouldn’t be telling this story if Ross had left the gym and I’d put my clothes back on.

You really want to make this more fun? he asked.

I bit my lip.  Yes.

You like work-outs?

Ross lifted up his muscle-shirt and tossed it to the corner of the ring too.  Now it was my turn to ogle him.  His round, muscled shoulders and biceps looked incredible, as though I was staring at a real-life version of the boxing posters on my wall.

I love them, I lied.

Okay.  We’ll start with some stomach-crunches.

Ross knelt and reached down through the ropes, picking up a small stool and setting it in against the turnbuckle in the corner.  He sat on it and faced me, opening his legs wide.

I looked to his shorts, seeing the bulge inside them that looked far bigger than I’d ever imagined.

Stomach crunches, he said again.  Here.  He pointed to the floor between his legs.

I walked over and bit at the tape of my gloves.

Leave them on, he said.  You won’t need your hands.

My eyes sparkled.

Kneel, he ordered, pointing to a spot on the floor close to him.

I did as commanded, looking to him for the next instruction.  Ross stood from the stool, his hips at face height.  He put his hands inside his shorts and then moved them down, taking his underwear with them.

I watched the