Early Bird Yoga - Episode 7

She dropped into the downward dog right in front of him. Black leggings stretched tight over her ass, a thin seam running between her cheeks. He watched her hips tilt and the fabric pull against her. The instructor droned on about breath, but the only sound in his head was the soft drag of spandex over skin. She exhaled and pressed back, arching deeper. The curve of her spine made his cock twitch under his own shorts. When she lifted one leg and opened her hips to the side, he caught the faint outline of her cunt against the cloth. She held the pose, breathing steadily, then eased down to a seated twist. Her tits shifted under the tank top. Hard nipples pressed through the fabric, two dark points against pale blue cotton. She rolled her shoulders and the shirt lifted an inch, baring a strip of stomach above the waistband. He looked away, then looked back. She met his eyes and smiled, slow, like she knew exactly what he was watching. They moved through another round of sun salutations. Sweat gathered at the small of her back, slid down the groove of her spine. He imagined licking it off, imagined biting the muscle just above her hip. She bent forward into a forward fold, hands flat on the mat, ass high. The cleft between her cheeks was deeper now, darker where the fabric pressed in. His mouth went dry. She glanced back between her legs, upside down, and caught him staring. This time she didn’t look away. She held the stare while she stepped one foot between her hands, then the other, rolling up slow. Her thighs brushed together for a second, and he pictured her straddling his face, lowering that hot cunt onto his tongue. The class ended. She rolled her mat with deliberate care, giving him time to watch the way her leggings rode up between her cheeks one last time before she walked out. He stayed on his knees a moment longer, cock hard against his thigh, wondering how soon he could get her alone.