Christina's Adventures Part 7 (Traffic Jam)

Opening my eyes, I felt something warm by my leg. Lowering my head, I saw Lisa's bare butt. She was sleeping in the fetal position, pressed against me. The clock showed 10 AM, the sun was shining outside, and cool air filled the room with freshness through the window. I grabbed my phone and checked the messages; Misha still hadn't read anything.

Oh well, screw him, I'll find another trainer, I thought. There was a lightness in my body and pleasant memories of yesterday. Getting out of bed, I had a view of Lisa; her body glistened in the sun's rays, her little butt seemed so innocent, as if it hadn't been spread by my fingers, her neatly closed pussy lips pretending that yesterday

they hadn't been stretched and hadn't pulsed around me.

Not wanting to wake her, to enjoy the quiet a little longer, I went to wash up and make us breakfast. Turning on music in the kitchen, I danced a little while making scrambled eggs.

Not noticing how Lisa came up from behind and put her hands on me, which startled me and made me jump.

Me: "Are you crazy?"

Lisa: "Good morning!" (she said with a smile)

Me: "Good morning, how did you sleep?"

Lisa: "Great! And you?"

Me: "Amazing, we slept so long, I think the last time I slept like that was after exams."

Lisa: "Exactly, the nerves were intense."

Me: "Bon appétit!" (I said and placed a plate in front of her)

Me: "How's your entrepreneur?"

Lisa: "Great, always busy with work, we rarely see each other, and when we do, it's mostly just fucking."

Me: "What did you expect from him? Love for an 18-year-old girl?"

Lisa: "No, of course not, and it's good that there isn't any. I want to go out and have fun with whoever I want, however I want!"

Me: "I think so too. Maybe it's just too early for us to think about anything serious?"

Lisa: "Well, some infatuation should be there, like with you and Amin. Otherwise, it's just a mechanical process!"

Me: "What makes you think I feel anything for him?"

Lisa: "Well, did you feel anything for your first?"

Me: "No!"

Lisa: "Well, where is he now?"

Me: "Damn, that's true too..."

Lisa: "You cook amazingly and fuck amazingly—not a woman, but a fairy tale! But I gotta run!"

Me: "Take your panties from the robe!"

Lisa: "Oh, right!"

Lisa went to get ready, and I, after loading the dishes into the dishwasher, went to pack my things for the gym.

Lisa: "So, are you wearing the new outfit today? Will Mikhil be at your feet!?"

Me: "He's not answering messages."

Lisa: "Weird!" (She frowned)

Me: "Yeah, kind of."

Lisa: "Alright, I'm off, and remember, if you're feeling down, I'm all yours!"

Lisa gave me a peck on the cheek and slammed the door. As if nothing had happened yesterday, I felt calm inside and accepted it as an experience.

Arriving at the gym, I changed and went to look for Misha. Not finding him, I approached the photos of the trainers working at the gym. Misha's photo wasn't there, nor was Daria's. I got very curious and went up to the girl working at the bar.

Me: "Hi!"

Alina: "Hi! How are you? What will you drink?"

Me: "Can you tell me where trainer Mikhail is?"

Alina: "He was fired!"

Me: "What do you mean, fired?"

Alina: "Yeah, basically, he and Daria were kicked out yesterday!"

Me: "For what?"

Alina: "They were fucking in the gym, and the management saw it on the cameras! It's forbidden to do that at work here; outside of work, fine, but not here!"

Me: "Whoa, well, I feel sorry for Misha, he was a good trainer, but that bitch, no!"

Alina: "Completely agree. I really liked how you answered her and walked away! She was walking around angry all day after that."

Me: "Thanks, I'll stop by for a cocktail after my workout!"

Alina: "Victoria is a good trainer. She hasn't been with us long, but she's very well-known in the fitness industry and beyond." (She giggled)

Me: "Good to know!"

Approaching the trainer photos, I found this Victoria. Full, pumped-up lips, expressive eyebrows, and black hair. I wrote down her number and went to work out.

Towards the end of my workout, I saw her. She was tall, stately, a head taller than me, powerful, dominant. Thirty years old, every movement exuded strength forged from iron. Her figure wasn't the kind you'd call "feminine": broad shoulders, a back where muscles could play, hips compressed by firm muscles. Legs—pumped, strong, as if created to squeeze and not let go. Her butt—unnaturally round, hard, as if carved from marble under the weight of barbells.

But her chest... Her chest was deceptive—full, high, like two spheres, as if mocking her masculinity. She radiated power, and next to her, any of my classmates seemed fragile and more feminine.

Gathering courage, I approached her.

Me: "Victoria, hello!"

She dropped the barbell and wiped off sweat, looking me over. Her eyes traveled over my body.

Victoria: "Well, hello there, little one!" (she said in a bassy female voice)

A shiver ran down my spine.

Me: "My name is Kristina. I was recommended to you; they say you're a good trainer!"

Victoria: "And who recommended me to you?"

Me: "Alina from the bar!"

Victoria: "Ah, little Alinka, we know those types!" (She smiled)

Me: "I need a trainer. Can you help with that?"

Victoria: "Maybe I can help, but I like obedient little bunnies and pussies!" (she said authoritatively with a sly smile)

Me: "Well... okay, I always listen to my elders." (I said, crossing my legs and looking up at her)

Victoria: "Good, go to the locker room. In 15 minutes, I'll come, and we'll look at you, see what to add and what to reduce!"

After washing up, I came out of the shower wrapped in a towel. Victoria was sitting and waiting for me on the bench, breathing heavily after her workout.

Victoria: "Take off the towel and turn around!"

I dropped the towel and slowly began to turn. Her sharp gaze cut through my body, making me both aroused and embarrassed at the same time. She praised my butt, flat stomach, narrow waist. I felt like a doll being inspected before sex. Other female visitors passed by and looked at me. Her nipples were sharply erect and boldly protruded from under her tank top; a fire burned in her eyes, scorching every millimeter of my body.

Victoria: "You have a good body. I could help you get a rounder butt without increasing your legs. Your chest is lagging; we can lift it to look more sexy. Your back doesn't need anything special; we'll just keep it in shape. Have you trained with anyone before?"

Me: "Yes, with Mikhail, but he was fired."

Victoria: "Yeah, a shame for him, fired over some bitch."

Me: "Yeah, that Daria ruined everything!"

Victoria: "Daria may be a bitch, but he wasn't fired because of sex with her. Misha fucked the business owner and then dumped her, so she got angry."

Me: "Yeah, female revenge is a scary thing."

Victoria: "Alright, I'm going to shower. Day after tomorrow at 10, training session, be ready!" (she said in a commanding voice, slapping my butt)

I barely held back a moan; goosebumps ran across my butt, and my pussy began to pleasantly swell.

Returning from the gym, there wasn't much to do until Amin's arrival, which wasn't far off, and I was waiting for that day with trepidation. After tidying up at home, I decided to look for a driving school and then go shopping. After sending my mom some links to driving schools, I went to get ready.

Opening the closet, I took out graphite gray leggings and a short white t-shirt. Putting on seamless panties, I decided a bra would only ruin everything. Approaching the mirror, I admired my shape. The leggings pleasantly hugged every line of my hips, emphasizing the curves. The white t-shirt was so short it didn't even cover my navel; its loose bottom flared out, not reaching my stomach, exposing a beautiful strip of skin. Tying my hair in a ponytail, throwing on a leather biker jacket, and hopping into white sneakers, I headed to the mall.

Walking through the mall, I caught dozens of hot, brazen stares. Men watched me intently, their eyes crawling over my figure, lingering on the curves—especially where the thin white fabric of the t-shirt treacherously clung to my chest, and my hard nipples protruded, as if deliberately teasing. Women glanced with sour expressions—whether with envy or irritation. Their gazes slid over my legs, chest, firm butt, and I could see them subtly comparing themselves to me and losing.

Entering a lingerie store, I looked at sets, and one caught my attention. Taking it and being stunned by the price, I decided it was worth it and went to the fitting room.

Putting it on, I froze in front of the mirror, overcome by a mix of admiration and sweet arousal. The bra with a mini-corset tightly squeezed my chest, turning it into tempting round spheres. The thin fabric depicted blue-purple flowers, under which my nipples protruded. The lower part of my breasts was exposed and rested on a lace mesh. The garter belt resembled a ballet tutu skirt in a soft pink color, hanging down. The thin garter straps pressed pleasantly against my body. The sheer thong panties with a lace insert in the front, decorated with the same blue-purple flowers on top, held by two thin straps at the bottom and top, neatly going just above my butt and on my waist. My pussy, beautifully surrounded by soft fabric, looked sexy in the reflection. The stockings completed the look, making it elegant. The sheer black nylon pleasantly hugged my legs, the stocking tops squeezing with a beautiful pattern matching the lingerie set's color.

I left the store with a bag containing the new lingerie, but my thoughts were already far from lace and silk. My gaze accidentally caught a bright sign for a sex shop. Entering it, my eyes darted across the shelves and displays: various dildos, whips, gags, sex machines, and vibrators. Looking at the displays, I froze at the anal plugs. A shiny, cold metal one with an emerald stone at the base. Taking it in my hand and feeling the cold, weighty metal, I imagined it going inside, how the stone would stand out beautifully between my buttocks, and the metal gradually warming from my body. My little ring tightened pleasantly.

Buying the plug, I headed home. Entering the apartment, my heart was pounding wildly; I couldn't wait to insert the plug into myself. Taking off my clothes and grabbing lube from my mom, I got on all fours on the bed in front of the mirror, lying on my chest and looking at my reflection.

My hips spread beautifully, revealing a tight, closed hole. Lubricating my finger and pressing, it slowly began to go inside. With a smooth motion, my finger went all the way in. Pulling out my finger and making sure it was clean, I took the plug and lube.

The metal gleamed, generously coated with slippery lube as I pressed it against my tight entrance. The first touch of the cold, wet metal made me shudder. I pressed, but the plug stubbornly resisted, unwilling to give way.

Tensing my stomach, I pushed my pelvis forward, straining harder. The metal finally yielded, slowly entering inside, stretching me, burning with cold. Every millimeter of penetration made my breath hitch and my fingers tremble. I felt it sliding deeper, sometimes going in, sometimes retreating slightly, as if playing with me.

With a sharp push, the plug went all the way in. I cried out, not expecting such a wave: pain, stretching, sudden fullness. My hands shook as I collapsed onto my stomach, but my fingers didn't stop, continuing to tease my pussy, as if trying to drown out the unfamiliar sensation.

I lay there, feeling my butt gradually accepting the invasion. The pain dissolved, leaving behind only a pleasant heaviness, a fullness that made me clench inside every time I moved.

Getting up from the bed, I felt the cold metal of the plug pressing from within, trying to slip out, but my body had already tightly gripped its narrow stem, giving it no chance of escape. Step by step, the plug reminded me of its presence—with a barely noticeable pressure, then a light push deeper when I tensed.

Spreading my thighs in front of the mirror, I saw it—the green stone, making my butt look even sexier. The plug's stem protruded slightly, and I couldn't resist pressing it with my finger.

I decided to walk around with it so my butt would get used to it. Putting on the thong, it pleasantly pressed the little stone, and the plug became deeply fixed.

I took the first step—and felt the plug stir inside, shifting slightly with the movement. The second step—and my own muscles already squeezed it, adapting to the new rhythm. Each step made the plug gently press against my inner walls, reminding me of itself with a tender push or a barely perceptible friction.

I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Not finding anything I wanted, I decided to walk to the store.

I put on a hoodie and tight jeans that hugged my hips tightly, increasing the pressure on the plug, as if deliberately pushing it deeper. I went outside. It didn't let me forget about itself for a second, moving inside me in time with my steps, pleasantly pressing against and spreading the walls. Entering the store, I tried to keep an indifferent expression, but my body was clearly playing against me. The thin thong was already soaked, and a damp, hot greenhouse was igniting between my legs, treacherously betraying my arousal. I picked through products on the shelf, pretending to be focused on choosing, but all my thoughts were only about one thing: the plug, which with every movement unobtrusively but relentlessly reminded me of itself.

The door slammed shut behind me, and I finally allowed myself to relax—if you can call it relaxation when a foreign object is rhythmically pulsating inside you. I leaned against the wall, feeling the plug press against the most sensitive spots, and my inner muscles had already completely lost control, playing with it.

The fabric slid off my hips, and the plug immediately gave way slightly forward, as if sensing freedom. But I wasn't in a hurry to remove it—instead, I lightly pressed on the base, making the metal sink back inside