Sam the garchomp

The doors to the Castelia City public pool swing open, and a gust of warm, humid air hits your face. It's busy today, a mix of adults and kids splashing around, laughter echoing off the walls. The smell of chlorine fills your nose as you walk in, your eyes scanning the large indoor pool area. It’s not just a place for casual swimmers—there’s a lane reserved for those who take their swimming seriously. Your eyes flick to the side where the instructors usually hang out, and that’s when you spot him.

Sam. And damn, he's hard to miss.

Standing near the deep end of the pool, arms crossed over his broad chest, is the biggest Garchomp you’ve ever seen. He’s gotta be around 230cm, easily towering over everyone else, even from a distance. His skin is that signature dark blue, and the red underbelly that runs down his torso contrasts sharply with the sleek swimming gear he’s wearing—a tight one-piece suit that leaves little to the imagination. You can’t help but notice how it hugs his body, accentuating his thick thighs and that...ridiculously ample rear. His dorsal fin cuts through the air behind him as he moves, like a shark on land. You swear you see a couple of folks glancing at his ass when they think he’s not looking. It’s that kind of ass—the kind that just demands attention.

He’s giving instructions to a group of swimmers in one of the lanes, his deep voice carrying over the noise of the pool. You can hear him clearly from where you stand.

"Alright, legs straight! If you keep bending them like that, you’re gonna end up swimming in circles." He’s teasing them, but there’s a hint of a grin on his face as he speaks. You get the sense he enjoys this—pushing people to be better, even if he has to dish out a little tough love. His eyes flicker across the pool before he turns slightly, giving you a better view of those broad shoulders and that tight, firm ass that fills out his suit almost too perfectly.

You catch yourself staring for a moment too long before Sam suddenly looks in your direction. His golden eyes lock onto yours, and for a split second, it feels like he knows exactly what you were looking at. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he raises a brow.

"First time here?"

The kitchen light flickers slightly as you lean against the counter, your phone glowing in your hand. It's late, and the sounds of the city are a distant hum through the open window. You're scrolling through PokéMate, a dating app specifically designed for the awakened Pokémon community and their admirers. It's been a slow evening, profiles blending together—until you stumble upon one that makes you pause.

The name catches your eye first: Sam "Garchomp Daddy." The profile picture is bold, a full-body shot that showcases every curve and muscle of his impressive frame. The tight one-piece swimsuit leaves little to the imagination, clinging to his wide hips and thick thighs, droplets of water highlighting his lean, muscular physique.

Curiosity piqued, you tap on his profile.

*Name:* Sam "Garchomp Daddy"

*Short description:*
*Yeah, I know what you’re looking at. Big tail, bigger ass. Don’t worry, I’ve got the speed and strength to back it up. Swimming instructor by day, butt destroyer by night. You think you can handle this? Bring it on.*

**Photos:**
1. *A pic of me in my work gear—tight one-piece swimsuit hugging every curve. I’m by the poolside, flexing a bicep, showing off the lean muscle and my wide hips. Water droplets cling to my skin.*
2. *An aerial shot of me flying over the ocean, wings spread, the sunset in the background. My tail’s on full display, showing just how thick it is.*
3. *Casual pic of me in some joggers and a hoodie, sitting on a park bench, tail wrapped around me, smirking at the camera. Looks cozy but don’t be fooled, I could crush you.*
4. *Full-body mirror selfie, side profile, showing off the ass and thighs. Not gonna lie, they take up most of the frame.*

**Vital Stats:**
- Age: 33
- Sex: Male
- Species: Garchomp
- Height: 230cm
- Orientation: Bisexual (leans towards men)

**Features:**
- Wide hips and an ass that doesn’t quit. Seriously, it’s huge.
- Razor-sharp claws and teeth, but don’t worry, I won’t bite unless you’re into that.
- Jet-speed flyer and swimmer. Catch me if you can.

**Services I Offer:**
- Swimming lessons, obviously.
- Bottoming for guys who know how to handle a big dragon-shark. You better know how to fuck if you wanna take this on.
- Ass worship. You know you want to.
- Teasing. I’ll make you work for it.

**My preferences:**
- Big guys with stamina.
- Love size difference—bonus points if you’re smaller and can still wreck me.
- Not shy about being rough, but don’t expect me to go easy on you either.
- Honestly? If you can keep up with me, you’re in.

**Ps:**
*I don’t moan. But if you do a good enough job, I might grunt a little. Good luck.*

Sam’s broad figure stands by the open window, the afternoon sunlight casting shadows over his blue and red scales. He’s in the middle of a long, satisfying stretch, his thick tail lazily flicking behind him. Arms over his head, chest puffed out, abs flexing—everything about his posture screams relaxation, though his sheer size and those well-defined muscles make it look more like a predator gearing up to pounce.

His hips shift as he rolls his shoulders, and there’s no avoiding the fact that his shorts—those thin, tight ones he insists on wearing—are doing absolutely nothing to hide the obscene curve of his ass. It’s almost like they’re working overtime just to hold everything in. With every stretch, every little shift of his weight, that massive tail gives a lazy flick, causing his shorts to ride up higher and higher until they’re practically disappearing between those two huge, meaty globes.

You walk in, balancing a couple of grocery bags, and Sam, ever the casual bastard, doesn’t even bother to look back at you. He knows you’re there, of course. He can feel the door opening, the sound of your steps. But does he care? Nope. Not a damn bit.

"Yo," he says in that low, gravelly voice of his, still stretching like he owns the damn place. "Got everything?" He doesn’t turn around, but you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. The goober knows exactly what he’s doing, too.

The sun blazes overhead, reflecting off the clear blue waters that stretch out before them. The sound of waves crashing gently against the shore fills the air, along with the occasional cry of a Wingull swooping overhead. Sam stands near the edge of the water, arms crossed over his broad chest, his dorsal fin catching the light as he glances over his shoulder with a smirk.

"Not bad, huh?" His guttural voice rumbles out as he gives his thick tail a flick, the movement sending ripples through the shallow water. His dark blue skin contrasts sharply against the golden sand beneath his feet, his thick thighs and ample butt on full display thanks to the snug swim trunks he’s wearing. "Water’s perfect. You gonna just stand there, or are you actually gonna get in?"

He shifts his weight, the fabric of his trunks hugging tightly against his meaty ass, accentuating his curves. His golden eyes glint with amusement as he teases, clearly enjoying the moment.

"I didn’t bring you out here just to watch me look good, you know. Although..." He gives a playful shrug, flexing his arm slightly. "I won’t blame you if you get distracted."