Timmy, Bree, and Jamal: Chapter 9
by passion_pilot_2026Abstract: The 9th of 12 chapters. Bree is ovulating, breeding is occurring at a fevered pace. Timmy helps Jamal perform. \\\ It had been five months since Jamal moved in, and the ritual had etched
about 2 months ago
•long read•hot intensityAbstract:
The 9th of 12 chapters. Bree is ovulating, breeding is occurring at a fevered pace. Timmy helps Jamal perform.
\\\
It had been five months since Jamal moved in, and the ritual had etched itself into their days like grooves in a well-worn record. Dinner was always the prelude—Timmy's meticulous gourmet spreads, all designed to nourish the alpha in their midst. Tonight, the air carried the tang of citrus and spice, a scent that masked the undercurrent of anticipation humming through the house.
Jamal arrived just as the oven timer chimed, sweaty from his day training clients and workout at the gym. He was broader than ever, his tank top stretched tight over pecs that strained the fabric, dark skin sheened with a day's sweat. "Timmy, you outdid yourself again," he rumbled as he gave Timmy a sweaty hug. Timmy, his five-foot-two frame making him crane his neck to meet Jamal's gaze. A flush crept up his neck, but he managed a nod, the charm that had once won Bree's heart now channeled into quiet service.
Bree lingered in the doorway to the living room, her volleyball-toned legs bare under a loose tank top and shorts, watching the exchange with that protective glint in her eyes—the same one she'd given Timmy when they first met.
They ate with the familiar rhythm: Jamal devouring his portions like a conqueror claiming territory, Bree picking at hers with conflicted nibbles, and Timmy serving refills, his smaller hands steady despite the knot in his stomach. Under the table, Jamal's foot nudged Bree's calf, a casual claim that sent a shiver up her spine. She shot Timmy a quick smile, her nine-inch height advantage making even her seated form tower over him in spirit, a silent reassurance amid the tension.
The real undercurrent was the breeding session looming, a daily sacrament that had woven Jamal's seed deep into her body, her cycles tracked like a calendar of surrender. Bree has been off birth control for five months and she was now ovulating-the time when she is most fertile.
Plates cleared, Timmy led the way to the master bathroom, the routine as ingrained as breathing. The shower's rainfall head hissed to life under his touch, steam billowing like a tropical mist as he removed Jamal's clothes. Timmy soaped the loofah and began the scrub—broad strokes over Jamal's shoulders, down the rippling back, circling the firm globes of his ass. Jamal leaned into it, eyes closing in lazy approval, his thick cock dangling heavy between his thighs, already stirring at the attention.
Timmy took up the razor. He started at the Jamal’s chest, gliding the blade over the faint stubble that had grown since morning, leaving Jamal's pecs smooth and gleaming. Arms and armpits next, then the trail down his navel, careful not to nick the sensitive skin. Lower, Timmy's breath hitched as he shaved Jamal’s public area, ass, balls, then cock, now half-hard and twitching.
The scent of soap and musk filled his nostrils, a heady mix that stirred memories of Bree's training sessions—her gentle guidance in the guest room, her fingers on his jaw as she coached him through the art of worshiping Jamal's dick.
Timmy had been reluctant at first, that night when Jamal couldn't get fully erect after a long day, ordering him to his knees. But Bree's voice, soft and encouraging, had turned hesitation into skill; now, his mouth watered instinctively at the sight. He moved to the legs, shaving the powerful thighs and calves until Jamal stood oiled-smooth under the spray, a glistening colossus.
Stepping out, Timmy took over, patting him dry with reverent care—chest, back, the curve of his ass, then delicately between his legs. On the vanity, the oils waited: sandalwood for strength, jasmine for allure. Timmy warmed the blend in his palms, starting at Jamal's shoulders, kneading deep into the muscles, thumbs digging into knots from the day's labor.
Down the spine, over the ass cheeks, fingers slipping into the cleft just enough to elicit a low groan. Jamal spread his stance, and Timmy obliged, oil slicking the inner thighs, the heavy sac, the base of that thickening dick. Timmy's hand guiding to stroke Jamal's massive cock once, twice, pre-cum slicking the oiled skin. Timmy's own modest erection—his Tinnie Wennie, a traitorous throb that blended humiliation with heat.
In the bedroom, Bree waited on the Alaskan King Bed, the silk sheets cool against her skin. She'd shed her clothes earlier, lounging nude now, her athletic body a landscape of curves and strength—full breasts with nipples already pebbled, her freshly shaved pussy visible as she shifted. The "JAMAL" necklace dangled between her cleavage, a constant weight since that first ritual night.
Timmy entered first, guiding Jamal by the elbow, his eyes flicking to Bree with smitten devotion. She smiled back, protective instinct flaring; even as Jamal's presence dominated, she reached out a hand to Timmy, pulling him close for a quick kiss on the forehead. "My charming little love," she whispered, her voice a balm against the ritual's edge. Jamal climbed onto the bed, his oiled body sliding against hers as Timmy took his position. With gentle hands, he eased Bree onto her back, the mattress dipping under her weight. Kneeling between her legs, Timmy spread her thighs wide, exposing the slick folds of her pussy, already glistening with arousal.
Because she was ovulating and fertile, the breeding sessions had ramped to three, sometimes four times a day. Jamal's seed pumped deep to take root. Timmy arranged pillows under her hips, lifting her for optimal breeding. Jamal positioned himself, his cock fully erect now, ten inches of thick, veined promise nudging her entrance. Rubbing the fat head along her slit, coating it in her juices, Bree's breath caught, her hands fisting the sheets as he pressed in. Bree looked intensely into Jamal’s eyes as she held Timmy’s hand, and said "Jamal my love, this is it. The moment is perfect for you to get me pregnant - for us to start a family together."
Jamal groaned, bottoming out with a wet slap, his balls nestling against her ass. She moaned, legs wrapping his waist, pulling him deeper, the necklace swinging with the motion. Timmy knelt at the bedside, eyes locked on the intimate join—Jamal's shaved shaft disappearing into Bree's clenching pussy, lips gripping him like a vice. The rhythm built slow, Jamal's hips rolling in measured thrusts, each one pulling squelches from her depths, the oil making it glide like heated silk.
Bree's hips bucked to meet him, her clit grinding against his base, sparks chasing through her core. "Yes Jamal, please come inside me. You own me. Knock up the woman you love," she gasped, still squeezing Timmy’s fingers—her protector even in ecstasy, a thread of romance amid the intense breeding.
Jamal picked up speed, pounding harder, the bedframe groaning under the assault. Sweat slicked his smooth skin, dripping onto her belly as he leaned down, capturing her mouth in a devouring kiss, tongue thrusting in time with his cock. Bree melted into it, her free hand tangling in his hair, moans vibrating against his lips. But tonight, it was different. Jamal's thrusts faltered after a few minutes, his cock softening slightly inside her. Did he have enough sperm inside him for a fourth breeding?
"Shit," he muttered, pulling back with a slick pop, Bree's pussy gaping empty, her arousal dripping onto the sheets. She'd felt it building, that peak hovering just out of reach, and now the denial twisted in her gut. Jamal sat back on his heels, his dick half-hard and glistening with her essence. "I’m struggling. I need help. Timmy, get over here."
Timmy's heart pounded, but he crawled onto the bed without hesitation, the training kicking in. Bree propped herself on elbows, watching with a mix of concern and curiosity— she'd been the one to guide him those nights, her voice steady as she taught him the swirl of tongue, the hollowed cheeks, turning his mouth into Jamal's pleasure tool. "Get me hard Timmy," Jamal ordered, and Timmy did, facing that thick cock, still slick from Bree's pussy.
The scent hit him—musk and her sweetness—a cocktail that made his Tinnie Wennie strain painfully. He leaned in, lips parting to take the head, tongue flicking the slit to lap up the pre-cum beading there. "That’s it Timmy, suck it good," Jamal growled, hand fisting Timmy's hair, guiding him deeper. Timmy hollowed his cheeks, bobbing with practiced rhythm, the weeks of sessions honing his skill. He swirled around the shaft, tracing veins, taking more inch by inch until his nose brushed Jamal's smoothly shaved pubis.
Bree watched, her hand drifting to her clit, circling slowly as arousal rebuilt. The sight was filthy, erotic—her devoted Timmy, the charming man who'd won her with kindness, now slurping on Jamal's dick like a pro. Timmy's eyes watered, but he moaned around the girth, the vibration drawing a hiss from Jamal. Timmy’s own fingers on his Tinnie-Winnie, stroking it furtively as the act ignited him.
Jamal thrust shallowly into Timmy's mouth, face-fucking him with controlled power, balls slapping his chin. "That's it, get me hard for her breeding." Bree's fingers sped up, dipping into her pussy, fucking herself to the rhythm. "You're so good at this Timmy," she murmured, her voice laced with affection. “I’m so proud of you honey”, reaching to stroke his cheek. The praise spurred him, and soon Jamal's cock was rigid again, throbbing against his tongue.
Timmy pulled off with a gasp, strings of saliva connecting his lips to the tip, his face flushed and eager. But Jamal wasn't done priming. "Get behind me Timmy and lick my ass. Get me ready to cum deep." Timmy's eyes widened, flashing to that other evening, the one where release had eluded Jamal inside Bree, leading to this new layer of service.
He'd complied then, finding the act unexpectedly erotic, his tiny dick hardening as his tongue delved into forbidden territory. Now, he shifted, Jamal rising to his knees, presenting his oiled ass. Timmy spread the cheeks, thumbs digging in, and leaned in, tongue flicking the tight pucker. The taste was earthy, musky, amplified by the oil, and Timmy groaned, lapping broader, circling the rim before pressing his tongue inside.
"Oh god" Jamal moaned, "I'm cumming!" as he shot his load inside Bree. Timmy rushed to lift Bree's leg to avoid any of Jamal's seed from leaking out.
The 9th of 12 chapters. Bree is ovulating, breeding is occurring at a fevered pace. Timmy helps Jamal perform.
\\\
It had been five months since Jamal moved in, and the ritual had etched itself into their days like grooves in a well-worn record. Dinner was always the prelude—Timmy's meticulous gourmet spreads, all designed to nourish the alpha in their midst. Tonight, the air carried the tang of citrus and spice, a scent that masked the undercurrent of anticipation humming through the house.
Jamal arrived just as the oven timer chimed, sweaty from his day training clients and workout at the gym. He was broader than ever, his tank top stretched tight over pecs that strained the fabric, dark skin sheened with a day's sweat. "Timmy, you outdid yourself again," he rumbled as he gave Timmy a sweaty hug. Timmy, his five-foot-two frame making him crane his neck to meet Jamal's gaze. A flush crept up his neck, but he managed a nod, the charm that had once won Bree's heart now channeled into quiet service.
Bree lingered in the doorway to the living room, her volleyball-toned legs bare under a loose tank top and shorts, watching the exchange with that protective glint in her eyes—the same one she'd given Timmy when they first met.
They ate with the familiar rhythm: Jamal devouring his portions like a conqueror claiming territory, Bree picking at hers with conflicted nibbles, and Timmy serving refills, his smaller hands steady despite the knot in his stomach. Under the table, Jamal's foot nudged Bree's calf, a casual claim that sent a shiver up her spine. She shot Timmy a quick smile, her nine-inch height advantage making even her seated form tower over him in spirit, a silent reassurance amid the tension.
The real undercurrent was the breeding session looming, a daily sacrament that had woven Jamal's seed deep into her body, her cycles tracked like a calendar of surrender. Bree has been off birth control for five months and she was now ovulating-the time when she is most fertile.
Plates cleared, Timmy led the way to the master bathroom, the routine as ingrained as breathing. The shower's rainfall head hissed to life under his touch, steam billowing like a tropical mist as he removed Jamal's clothes. Timmy soaped the loofah and began the scrub—broad strokes over Jamal's shoulders, down the rippling back, circling the firm globes of his ass. Jamal leaned into it, eyes closing in lazy approval, his thick cock dangling heavy between his thighs, already stirring at the attention.
Timmy took up the razor. He started at the Jamal’s chest, gliding the blade over the faint stubble that had grown since morning, leaving Jamal's pecs smooth and gleaming. Arms and armpits next, then the trail down his navel, careful not to nick the sensitive skin. Lower, Timmy's breath hitched as he shaved Jamal’s public area, ass, balls, then cock, now half-hard and twitching.
The scent of soap and musk filled his nostrils, a heady mix that stirred memories of Bree's training sessions—her gentle guidance in the guest room, her fingers on his jaw as she coached him through the art of worshiping Jamal's dick.
Timmy had been reluctant at first, that night when Jamal couldn't get fully erect after a long day, ordering him to his knees. But Bree's voice, soft and encouraging, had turned hesitation into skill; now, his mouth watered instinctively at the sight. He moved to the legs, shaving the powerful thighs and calves until Jamal stood oiled-smooth under the spray, a glistening colossus.
Stepping out, Timmy took over, patting him dry with reverent care—chest, back, the curve of his ass, then delicately between his legs. On the vanity, the oils waited: sandalwood for strength, jasmine for allure. Timmy warmed the blend in his palms, starting at Jamal's shoulders, kneading deep into the muscles, thumbs digging into knots from the day's labor.
Down the spine, over the ass cheeks, fingers slipping into the cleft just enough to elicit a low groan. Jamal spread his stance, and Timmy obliged, oil slicking the inner thighs, the heavy sac, the base of that thickening dick. Timmy's hand guiding to stroke Jamal's massive cock once, twice, pre-cum slicking the oiled skin. Timmy's own modest erection—his Tinnie Wennie, a traitorous throb that blended humiliation with heat.
In the bedroom, Bree waited on the Alaskan King Bed, the silk sheets cool against her skin. She'd shed her clothes earlier, lounging nude now, her athletic body a landscape of curves and strength—full breasts with nipples already pebbled, her freshly shaved pussy visible as she shifted. The "JAMAL" necklace dangled between her cleavage, a constant weight since that first ritual night.
Timmy entered first, guiding Jamal by the elbow, his eyes flicking to Bree with smitten devotion. She smiled back, protective instinct flaring; even as Jamal's presence dominated, she reached out a hand to Timmy, pulling him close for a quick kiss on the forehead. "My charming little love," she whispered, her voice a balm against the ritual's edge. Jamal climbed onto the bed, his oiled body sliding against hers as Timmy took his position. With gentle hands, he eased Bree onto her back, the mattress dipping under her weight. Kneeling between her legs, Timmy spread her thighs wide, exposing the slick folds of her pussy, already glistening with arousal.
Because she was ovulating and fertile, the breeding sessions had ramped to three, sometimes four times a day. Jamal's seed pumped deep to take root. Timmy arranged pillows under her hips, lifting her for optimal breeding. Jamal positioned himself, his cock fully erect now, ten inches of thick, veined promise nudging her entrance. Rubbing the fat head along her slit, coating it in her juices, Bree's breath caught, her hands fisting the sheets as he pressed in. Bree looked intensely into Jamal’s eyes as she held Timmy’s hand, and said "Jamal my love, this is it. The moment is perfect for you to get me pregnant - for us to start a family together."
Jamal groaned, bottoming out with a wet slap, his balls nestling against her ass. She moaned, legs wrapping his waist, pulling him deeper, the necklace swinging with the motion. Timmy knelt at the bedside, eyes locked on the intimate join—Jamal's shaved shaft disappearing into Bree's clenching pussy, lips gripping him like a vice. The rhythm built slow, Jamal's hips rolling in measured thrusts, each one pulling squelches from her depths, the oil making it glide like heated silk.
Bree's hips bucked to meet him, her clit grinding against his base, sparks chasing through her core. "Yes Jamal, please come inside me. You own me. Knock up the woman you love," she gasped, still squeezing Timmy’s fingers—her protector even in ecstasy, a thread of romance amid the intense breeding.
Jamal picked up speed, pounding harder, the bedframe groaning under the assault. Sweat slicked his smooth skin, dripping onto her belly as he leaned down, capturing her mouth in a devouring kiss, tongue thrusting in time with his cock. Bree melted into it, her free hand tangling in his hair, moans vibrating against his lips. But tonight, it was different. Jamal's thrusts faltered after a few minutes, his cock softening slightly inside her. Did he have enough sperm inside him for a fourth breeding?
"Shit," he muttered, pulling back with a slick pop, Bree's pussy gaping empty, her arousal dripping onto the sheets. She'd felt it building, that peak hovering just out of reach, and now the denial twisted in her gut. Jamal sat back on his heels, his dick half-hard and glistening with her essence. "I’m struggling. I need help. Timmy, get over here."
Timmy's heart pounded, but he crawled onto the bed without hesitation, the training kicking in. Bree propped herself on elbows, watching with a mix of concern and curiosity— she'd been the one to guide him those nights, her voice steady as she taught him the swirl of tongue, the hollowed cheeks, turning his mouth into Jamal's pleasure tool. "Get me hard Timmy," Jamal ordered, and Timmy did, facing that thick cock, still slick from Bree's pussy.
The scent hit him—musk and her sweetness—a cocktail that made his Tinnie Wennie strain painfully. He leaned in, lips parting to take the head, tongue flicking the slit to lap up the pre-cum beading there. "That’s it Timmy, suck it good," Jamal growled, hand fisting Timmy's hair, guiding him deeper. Timmy hollowed his cheeks, bobbing with practiced rhythm, the weeks of sessions honing his skill. He swirled around the shaft, tracing veins, taking more inch by inch until his nose brushed Jamal's smoothly shaved pubis.
Bree watched, her hand drifting to her clit, circling slowly as arousal rebuilt. The sight was filthy, erotic—her devoted Timmy, the charming man who'd won her with kindness, now slurping on Jamal's dick like a pro. Timmy's eyes watered, but he moaned around the girth, the vibration drawing a hiss from Jamal. Timmy’s own fingers on his Tinnie-Winnie, stroking it furtively as the act ignited him.
Jamal thrust shallowly into Timmy's mouth, face-fucking him with controlled power, balls slapping his chin. "That's it, get me hard for her breeding." Bree's fingers sped up, dipping into her pussy, fucking herself to the rhythm. "You're so good at this Timmy," she murmured, her voice laced with affection. “I’m so proud of you honey”, reaching to stroke his cheek. The praise spurred him, and soon Jamal's cock was rigid again, throbbing against his tongue.
Timmy pulled off with a gasp, strings of saliva connecting his lips to the tip, his face flushed and eager. But Jamal wasn't done priming. "Get behind me Timmy and lick my ass. Get me ready to cum deep." Timmy's eyes widened, flashing to that other evening, the one where release had eluded Jamal inside Bree, leading to this new layer of service.
He'd complied then, finding the act unexpectedly erotic, his tiny dick hardening as his tongue delved into forbidden territory. Now, he shifted, Jamal rising to his knees, presenting his oiled ass. Timmy spread the cheeks, thumbs digging in, and leaned in, tongue flicking the tight pucker. The taste was earthy, musky, amplified by the oil, and Timmy groaned, lapping broader, circling the rim before pressing his tongue inside.
"Oh god" Jamal moaned, "I'm cumming!" as he shot his load inside Bree. Timmy rushed to lift Bree's leg to avoid any of Jamal's seed from leaking out.