Early Bird Yoga - Episode 9

She sinks into downward dog at dawn, her thin top slipping low enough to bare the warm spill of her breasts. The fabric clings, damp from last night’s sweat, and when she widens her stance her shorts ride up, the cotton wedging between plump lips that still ache from my tongue. I kneel behind her, palms sliding along her calves, thumbs pressing into the soft meat of her thighs until she trembles. Her scent hits me—salt, musk, morning heat—and I hook two fingers under the soaked seam, yank it aside. She gasps but stays in pose, hips tilting back, offering. One slow lick along her slit and she breaks the posture, knees buckling as my mouth seals over her cunt, sucking the swollen nub until she floods my chin.