Early Bird Yoga - Episode 2

She stretched naked on her mat, legs open, arms up. Her breasts lifted with each slow breath. The early light slid over her skin, warm and thin. He watched from the corner, cock thickening against his shorts. She rolled her hips once, deliberately, then held the pose. Nothing moved except the subtle pulse between her thighs. He stepped forward. She didn’t stop. When he knelt between her knees she spread wider, the muscles in her stomach tightening. He pressed two fingers inside her without asking. She was already wet. A quiet sound escaped her, more breath than moan. He worked his fingers deeper, thumb brushing her clit each time he pulled out. She stayed in position, arms still raised, legs trembling. He curled his fingers and her hips jerked forward. The mat creaked beneath her. He pulled his hand free, licked his fingers, then freed his cock. She looked at it, then at him. Her lips parted. He leaned over her, one hand braced beside her head, the other guiding himself. The head pushed against her entrance. She exhaled through her teeth. He sank in slow, all the way, until his hips met hers. She took it without a word, eyes half-closed, inner walls gripping him tight. He began to thrust, steady, deep, each stroke pushing a small gasp from her chest. Sweat gathered between her breasts. He bent to lick it. She lifted her legs, wrapped them around his waist, heels digging in. The pace quickened. Her fingers finally dropped to his shoulders, nails biting skin. He drove harder, the slap of flesh against flesh filling the quiet room. Her breath grew ragged. She came with a low, broken sound, body locking around him. He kept moving through it, chasing his own release. When he came he stayed buried, pulsing inside her, forehead pressed to hers. Neither spoke. The light kept moving across the floor.