The yoga studio was bathed in the soft glow of late afternoon sunlight, filtering through the sheer curtains that draped the floor-to-ceiling windows. The air smelled faintly of lavender and sweat, a familiar scent that always calmed me. I unrolled my mat in the corner, my favorite spot, where I could see the instructor without feeling like I was on display. My red hair was pulled back in a loose bun, a few stray strands framing my face, and I wore my usual attire: black leggings that hugged my lean frame and a soft gray tank top that allowed for unrestricted movement.
The class was already filling up, a mix of regulars and newcomers. I nodded to a few familiar faces, exchanging quiet smiles. Yoga had become my sanctuary, a place where I could escape the mundane routines of daily life and reconnect with my body. At 39, I prided myself on my flexibility, a result of years of practice and a natural suppleness that had always been a part of me.
As I settled into my first downward dog, I felt the familiar stretch in my hamstrings, the pull of my shoulders, and the gentle curve of my spine. I closed my eyes, focusing on my breath, letting the world outside fade away. The instructor’s voice was soothing, guiding us through the poses with a rhythm that felt almost meditative.
Midway through the class, we transitioned into a series of deep stretches. I moved effortlessly into a full split, my legs extending in opposite directions as if they were made of rubber. My pale skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, and I felt a sense of pride as I held the pose, my blue eyes fixed on the instructor.
That’s when I noticed him.
He was standing a few mats away, his gaze locked on me. His name was Neil, a newcomer to the class, with dark hair, intense brown eyes, and a lean, muscular build. He wasn’t trying to hide his interest; his stare was bold, almost predatory, as if he were studying me, analyzing every curve and line of my body.
At first, I felt a flicker of annoyance. I wasn’t here to be ogled. But as the class continued, I caught him watching me again and again, especially during the more challenging poses. There was something in his expression—a mix of curiosity and raw desire—that made my stomach flutter in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
When the instructor called for a seated forward fold, I folded my torso over my legs, my forehead touching the mat. My tank top rode up slightly, exposing the curve of my lower back, and I felt Neil’s eyes on me once more. This time, I didn’t try to ignore it. Instead, I held the pose a little longer, savoring the stretch and the attention.
As the class ended, I rolled up my mat slowly, taking my time. Neil approached me as I was packing up, his stride confident but not arrogant.
“Hi,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. “I’m Neil. I couldn’t help but notice your flexibility. It’s… impressive.”
I smiled, a little taken aback by his directness. “Thanks. I’ve been practicing for a while.”
“It shows,” he replied, his gaze lingering on my legs as I stood. “I was wondering… would you maybe want to grab a drink sometime? I’d love to get to know you better.”
I hesitated. I wasn’t usually one for spontaneous dates, especially with strangers from yoga class. But there was something about Neil—his intensity, his unapologetic interest—that intrigued me.
“Sure,” I said, surprising even myself. “Why not?”
He grinned, his eyes lighting up. “Great. How about tonight? There’s a wine bar nearby. I know it’s short notice, but…”
“Tonight’s fine,” I said, feeling a rush of excitement. “I’ll meet you there at eight.”
The wine bar was dimly lit, the kind of place where conversations were hushed and the air was thick with the scent of oak and grapes. Neil was already seated at a corner table when I arrived, a glass of red wine in front of him. He stood as I approached, pulling out my chair with a polite gesture that felt both old-fashioned and charming.
“You look… stunning,” he said, his eyes trailing over my dress—a simple black number that hugged my curves just enough.
“Thank you,” I replied, taking my seat. “You clean up well too.”
He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “I try.”
The conversation flowed easily, as if we’d known each other longer than a few hours. We talked about yoga, of course, but also about books, music, and travel. Neil was well-read, witty, and had a way of making me feel like the most fascinating person in the room.
But beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of tension—a charged energy that neither of us acknowledged but both of us felt. I caught him stealing glances at my legs, my arms, my neck, as if he were mapping out every inch of me. And I found myself leaning in closer, my voice dropping to a whisper, my laughter a little too loud.
When the waiter came to refill our glasses, Neil placed a hand on my wrist, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through me.
“I have to admit,” he said, his voice low, “I didn’t just ask you out because I thought you were interesting. Your flexibility… it’s not just impressive. It’s… inspiring.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “Inspiring? How so?”
He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “Let’s just say I’ve been imagining all the ways it could… enhance certain experiences.”
My heart raced, and I felt a flush creep up my neck. Neil wasn’t subtle, but there was something refreshingly honest about his desire.
“Experiences like what?” I asked, my voice steady but my pulse pounding.
He smirked, his eyes dark with intent. “Like how you could wrap your legs around me. Or bend in ways that would make most people jealous. Or…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. The image was clear in my mind, and it was undeniably arousing.
“You’re very forward,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.
“And you’re very flexible,” he countered, his hand still on my wrist. “It’s a perfect match, don’t you think?”
I laughed, but it was shaky, and I could feel the heat pooling between my thighs. “Maybe. But you’ll have to prove it.”
His smirk widened, and without another word, he stood, offering me his hand. “Let’s go.”
Neil’s apartment was only a few blocks away, a sleek, modern space with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city skyline. The moment the door closed behind us, the tension that had been building all evening exploded.
He pressed me against the wall, his lips crashing down on mine with a hunger that took my breath away. His hands were everywhere at once, sliding up my thighs, cupping my ass, pulling me closer until there was no space between us. I moaned into his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair, my body responding to his with a desperation that surprised even me.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” he growled, his voice rough with need.
“Then don’t waste any more time,” I gasped, my legs already trembling.
He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me to the couch. The kiss deepened, our tongues tangling, our breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. His hands slid under my dress, his fingers tracing the lace of my underwear, teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. “And so flexible. I can’t wait to see what you can do.”
I shivered at his words, my core aching with anticipation. “Show me,” I whispered.
He didn’t need to be told twice. With a swift motion, he pulled my dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but my bra and panties. His eyes raked over me, taking in every inch of my pale skin, the curve of my breasts, the dip of my waist.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his hands cupping my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. “You’re perfect.”
I arched into his touch, my head falling back as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling, his teeth grazing. I moaned, my hands gripping his shoulders, my legs tightening around him.
“Neil,” I gasped. “I need you.”
He smiled against my skin, a wicked, knowing smile. “Not yet. I want to savor this.”
He pushed me back onto the couch, my legs still wrapped around him, and began to kiss his way down my body. His lips trailed over my stomach, my hips, the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I squirmed, my breath coming in short, desperate pants as he teased me, his tongue flicking, his teeth nibbling.
“Please,” I begged, my hands tangling in his hair. “Please, Neil.”
He smirked, his eyes locking with mine. “Begging already? And here I thought you’d be more patient.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” I snapped, my voice laced with frustration and need.
He laughed, a low, dark sound that sent a thrill through me. “As you wish.”
With a swift motion, he ripped my panties aside, his mouth descending on my core. I cried out, my back arching off the couch as his tongue plunged deep, his lips sucking, his fingers pressing into my thighs to hold me still.
“Oh fuck,” I moaned, my hands gripping the cushions. “Neil, yes… right there…”
He hummed against my skin, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through me. His tongue was relentless, his mouth voracious, and I felt my orgasm building, a tight coil of tension in my core.
“Neil,” I gasped. “I’m close…”
“Not yet,” he murmured, pulling away just as I was about to climax.
I whimpered, my body trembling with unfulfilled need. “You’re cruel.”
He grinned, standing up and shedding his clothes in quick, efficient motions. His body was lean and muscular, his cock thick and hard, and my mouth watered at the sight of him.
“On your knees,” he commanded, his voice firm but not unkind.
I obeyed without hesitation, my heart pounding with anticipation. He gripped my hair, pulling my head back slightly, and I opened my mouth, my tongue flicking out to taste him.
“Suck it,” he growled, thrusting into my mouth.
I moaned around his cock, my hands gripping his thighs as I took him deep, my throat closing around him. He groaned, his hips snapping forward, his hands tightening in my hair.
“Fuck, you’re good at that,” he panted, pulling out before thrusting back in. “So fucking good.”
I hollowed my cheeks, my tongue swirling, my lips tight around him. He tasted salty and musky, and I reveled in the sound of his ragged breaths, the feel of his cock pulsing in my mouth.
“Enough,” he said abruptly, pulling out and pushing me back onto the couch. “I need to be inside you.”
He didn’t waste any time, positioning himself between my legs and thrusting into me in one smooth motion. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he filled me, his cock stretching me, his balls slapping against my ass.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his hips snapping forward. “So tight… so wet…”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, my heels digging into his back as I met his thrusts, my body moving with his in a rhythm that felt primal, instinctual. The couch creaked beneath us, the air thick with the sounds of our moans, the slap of skin on skin, the scent of sweat and sex.
“Neil,” I gasped, my orgasm building again, tighter and more intense than before. “I’m close…”
“Me too,” he growled, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, more desperate. “Come with me… come on my cock…”
His words pushed me over the edge, my body convulsing as I screamed his name, my walls clenching around him. He followed moments later, his hips stuttering, his cock pulsing deep inside me as he roared my name, his seed spilling into me in hot, thick jets.
We collapsed in a tangle of limbs, our breaths coming in ragged gasps, our hearts pounding in unison. Neil rolled onto his back, pulling me onto his chest, his arms wrapping around me like a vice.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “That was… incredible.”
I laughed, a soft, breathless sound. “You were right. My flexibility does come in handy.”
He smirked, his hand sliding down to squeeze my ass. “I told you. A perfect match.”
I leaned up, kissing him softly, our lips lingering, our breaths mingling. The city lights twinkled outside the window, the world feeling distant and irrelevant.
In that moment, with Neil’s arms around me and the satisfaction still buzzing through my veins, I knew this was just the beginning.