A fuck buddy had recently become a yoga teacher and he had been begging me to attend his class for weeks. Finally, I caved. Clearly he wanted me to stroke his ego and he probably wanted to look at my ass while I bent over into downward dog or whatever they call it – I think yoga is super boring and overrated.
But I went anyway and wore the Lululemon leggings I always wear around the house and to the mall, which I knew he liked. He'd always ask for pictures of my ass in my yoga leggings, and I'd always oblige.
I laid my borrowed mat down a few rows away from the front, close enough so he could see me but not too close. He smiled, looking surprised as I walked in, then strode over to me. "Hey, you're new here. Would you mind if I did some adjustments on your poses while we practice?"
"Of course," I said, smiling right back, in on the joke. "I don't mind at all. Feel free to touch me wherever you want."
I think I did an OK job at the class. Like I said, I've never been into yoga, but since old cheerleaders never die, I'm still pretty flexible despite my lack of interest in exercise. Then again, I happened to have an instructor placing his hands on my thighs and hips, guiding me into new poses The music was just loud enough so he could talk to me when he passed by. "Remember when I threw these legs over your head and fucked you hard that one morning?" he'd whisper. Or, "Your ass looks so good in your leggings that I have to look at that old lady to stop myself from being hard the whole time."
It was pretty hot, I'll give him that. There's nothing like sweating your face off in a room full of strangers while the dude you're boning is talking dirty to you while responsible for teaching a class. At the end of the hour, he passed around a little bottle of oil and instructed us to give ourselves a little self-massage. Ohhhh, I knew what he was doing.
I pooled some oil in my hand, then proceeded to rub myself down. "No, no," he said, coming over. "Do it like this." He placed his hands on my shoulders, working out the tension, then moved just low enough to be decent but keep me turned on. "I get done in an hour. Don't shower. I want to fuck you all sweaty like this."
I nodded. On my way home, I texted him: "I think I need private yoga lessons from now on. You game? What will you charge me?"
"How about access to that body whenever I want it?"
"Sounds fair."I might never have attended another yoga class, but I managed to keep up a practice in private
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