Femboy Angel Jules’ First Time

Title: Angel Jules’ Divine Initiation

The cameras rolled, the lights dimmed, and the stage was set for a spectacle that would leave viewers breathless. This was no ordinary casting call – it was the moment of truth for our angelic ingenue, Jules.

With raven tresses, porcelain skin, and luscious pink pout, Jules sashayed onto the set in a lace teddy that barely concealed his perky breasts and tight bubble butt. His piercing green eyes smoldered under a coat of smoky eyeshadow and mascara. He was a vision of unbridled sexuality, ripe for the plucking by the savviest of producers.

Jules was a femboy casting, a rarity in the adult industry. He exuded an aura of youthful innocence while embodying raw, carnal desires. His supple body brimmed with untapped potential, waiting to be molded into the perfect gay bottom.

The producer settled into his chair, eying his young prize with both reverence and voracity. He gestured to a dildo resting on the table before him, a glistening 13-inch monstrosity. “This,” he began, flicking the shaft with a perfectly manicured finger, “is what you’ll be working with today.”

Jules’ eyes widened as he took in the beastly dildo, a mix of fear and exhilaration flashing across his delicate features. “I’ve never… I mean, I’ve used toys, but nothing that big,” he admits, a hint of a tremble in his voice.

The producer smirked, pouring lube onto his palm and stroking the plastic phallus. “That’s the fun of virginity. You get to experience everything for the first time,” he cooed, unbuckling his belt.

Jules bent over the table, his heart pounding in sync with the growing bulge in his panties. The producer stepped up behind him, tracing a trail of lube down the cleft of his ass, around the hem of his barely-there thong. Jules gasped as cold wetness met his puckered hole, tensing at the unfamiliar touch.

“Just relax, angel,” the producer purred, circling a fingertip around the rim. “Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.” He slid a sleek finger inside, feeling the tight heat clench around him.

“Ohhhh…” Jules moaned, rocking back onto the digit, his cock stiffening against the tabletop. Slowly, the producer added another, then a third, scissoring his fingers and massaging that secret spot inside.

When Jules was looser, more pliant, the producer withdrew his digits. A moment later, he felt the broad head of the dildo nudging his entrance. He shuddered, a bead of sweat trickling between his shoulder blades. “Put your hands out in front of you and breathe,” he was instructed.

Jules complied, knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the table. As the producer pushed forward, he felt a burning stretch, an unbearable thickness wedging him open. He barked out a cry, his back arching in response to the invasion.

The producer paused, letting him adjust. Then, in one fluid motion, he hilted his ‘hard’ inside Jules’ tight channel, drawing a high keen from the femboy’s cherry lips. The dildo filled him up, stuffing his guts in ways he’d never experienced, a ballooning pressure that had tears gathering in his eyes.

The producer began to thrust, each pump of his hips sending the monster dildo buried between Jules’ cheeks. He didn’t go fast and hard – rather, he rode Jules with precise strokes, pushing the toy just past the threshold before pulling back, letting his new star adjust to the size.

“Fuck… it’s so deep,” Jules panted, his mind blanking with sensation. His hands clawed at the tabletop, fingernails scoring the wood. He could feel every ridge and bump of the veiny toy, could swear it was splitting him in two.

“And it hasn’t even reached your prostate yet,” the producer pointed out wickedly, angling his thrusts to aim for that special bundle of nerves.

Jules howled, vision going white as the toy rammed against his pleasure center. His cock, dripping pre-cum onto the table, throbbed in time. The stimulation was intense, all-encompassing, short-circuited his brain with pure bliss.

Over and over, the producer plunged inside him, stretching him, claiming him, opening wide his untouched passage. All the while, that admittedly unholy dildo stirred up his guts, robbing him of breath and sanity alike.

Soon, Jules was bucking back into each thrust, a wanton animal rutting for his fill. His hole went from painfully stretched to greedily devouring, milking the dildo as if it were made of meat instead of plastic.

He was so close, he thought deliriously, sensation piling into sensation. He needed, craved, to come so bad-

“How do you want to finish?” the producer asked silkily, his cock fully erect now and bobbing against Jules’ firm backside. “Do you want to finishing pumping my cock? Or would you prefer the cream pie special?”

Jules whimpered incoherently, his mind a blank slate. A cream pie? Could he really take it? The producer laughed, a low, dark sound. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll fill this boycunt of yours up either way.”