The beginning of Sexy Fun Time Yoga

You stand in the yoga studio on your first day as a full-time instructor. All the months of training have led to this day when you'll be leading a class on your own for the first time. Looking at yourself in the wall of mirrors in the studio, you can't help but rub at your taut stomach, your nerves getting the better of you as you get that 'butterflies in the belly' sensation. You hope your students like you. You worry they won't take you seriously: you're only twenty four and at 5'1 you're not the most commanding of figures. Because you're so short, a past (asshole) boyfriend nicknamed you his 'pocket pussy.'

You start to go through a series of stretches in front of the mirrors, getting ready for class. At least you're confident you've the body for this work: hardly an ounce of fat shows on your trim figure, your 32B girls pushing out the top of your tank top as it clings to your toned stomach. You turn to look at your backside in the mirror in your grey yoga pants, the fabric snug on what your girlfriends have always told you is a 'bubble butt.' You know you'll soon have your ass in the air in front of a class of students in some of the more suggestive poses such as Melting Heart and Downward Facing Dog.

When you interviewed for the position, the owner of the studio made a point of calling the yoga offered by the studio a new and exciting style. The paperwork described it in greater detail, but you were too excited to do more than skim; in your skimming, you read lines such as "unlocking students' inner passion" and "stretching all the inner muscles used in sex." Maybe you'll start a new fad in yoga. The thought of it had you nearly giddy as you signed your name to the paperwork, signing your John Hancock to some line about acknowledging the privileges granted to students during class.

Here in the studio, you roll out your yoga mat on the smooth wood floor. Tall windows along the room's far wall afford the studio a lot of natural light. You take a moment to settle into Melting Heart, a favorite for calming your nerves, your face pressed to the mat as you stretch out your arms, your hips and butt lifted. The pitter-patter of your heart slows as you remind yourself you can always try that old trick of picturing your students naked. Not that yoga clothes leave much to the imagination. You've often wondered how other instructors can focus on class with all the eye candy of boobs, butts, and bulges.

The murmur of approaching voices reminds you class will soon be starting; you don't have time to talk yourself up. After a last exhale, you stand and look to the wall of mirrors again, cinching your strawberry blonde hair up into a ponytail as you remind yourself how awesome you are at yoga. You blow your annoying bangs out of your eyes and turn as the first of your students enter the studio. Ever the closeted perv, you can't help but eye each of them, mentally comparing the boobs and butts of the girls with your own before you allow yourself a wayward glance to the bulges on display in the guys' tights.

As you're allowing yourself a moment to ogle (class doesn't officially start for another five minutes), you get that feeling you're forgetting something, something important. You have a 'duh' moment and wave to the incoming students before you go to fetch a clipboard with the class's sign-up sheet from your duffel bag. As you bend over to rummage through the bag, you feel eyes on your backside and can't resist giving it a wiggle, knowing your butt looks damn good in these leggings. The thong you're wearing underneath guarantees you're not showing any panty lines as the leggings cling to your pert butt.

With the clipboard in hand, you go in front of the class where your mat is and clear your throat as loudly as you can. "Hellos. I'm Harper. Welcome everyone to the first ever offering of Sexy Fun Time Yoga." You look to the clipboard to make sure you read the name right. "I hope everyone here is in the right place. The owner probably got a bit carried away with the name: pretty sure it just means the yoga will get you looking and feeling sexy." You offer a dimpled smile to the students. "Yoga is pretty damn sexy. All that flexing and stretching. You'll bend in ways you didn't know you could by the time we're done."

You look to the gathered students. You haven't drawn the biggest crowd with your first class. Only five people have shown up: two girls and three guys. The guys all tower over you (of course), and you find yourself eying the nearest of them as you step up to him with the clipboard in hand. You have to look up to see his blue eyes, which has you looking up past a fit chest in a tight t-shirt. You say to him, "Could you help me to pass around the clipboard? I need everyone to make sure they've signed up. Oh, and tell me your name while we're at it." Out of habit, you glance to his tight leggings. Yep, he's packing.

He takes the clipboard from you and gives it a cursory glance. "I'm Eli. And yeah, I'm on here. Pass this on?"

"Please," you answer. You look out to the students' expectant faces as they pass around the clipboard. Your first class is full of attractive people: Eli has movie star good looks with his chiseled jawline, another guy has this feral handsomeness going for him with his stubbled cheeks and smoldering eyes, and the third guy looks like he could've walked in from a California beach with his blonde hair touching his shoulders. And then there were the two girls: a pretty brunette with legs for days and a freckled redhead closer to your height but with bigger boobs. You remind yourself to focus instead of ogling the eye candy.

You stand on your mat and gesture to the space around it. "Since we're shaping up to be a small class, I want you all to arrange your mats in a circle around mine." You beam to them. "Small classes are the best anyhow." As they set up their mats, you stretch on yours, getting limbered up. A student passes the clipboard back to you and you scan the names quickly: Eli, Claire, Lincoln, Brooklyn, and Miles. You hope to soon put the names to faces. The clipboard feels weighty in your hands somehow, as if it has some significance you're not grasping just yet, but you shrug and toss it back into your duffel bag.

With the five students gathered in a circle around you, you take a deep breath before starting the class. "We'll start with a trust exercise as an ice breaker. Everyone pair up. There's an odd number of you, so someone will be with me." The leggy brunette is quick to grab up the tan blonde guy as her partner, and you smirk to see her obvious interest in him. Eli pairs up with the redhead, which leaves you to partner with the one remaining guy, the one with the 5 o'clock shadow and rugged good looks. As the pairs stand together, you pull your partner in close and say, "Okay. Everyone watch me."

You direct your partner (who mumbles his name is Lincoln) to stand still and hold out his forearm to help you balance. Extending a leg, you place your ankle on his shoulder, your leggings pulled tight on your legs and butt. You look to the other students and say, "You're going to need to rely on your partners for balance. You're trusting them to hold you as you extend the leg up onto their shoulder." Following your example, the other girls do their best to adopt similar poses with their partners, albeit not as adeptly as you. You continue, "Relax and let your partner do all the work of holding you steady."

You lean into your partner with your ankle braced on his shoulder. It's not lost on you how close your crotch is to his: already you feel his bulge pressing against you through your thin leggings. To the class, you say, "We're looking to explore sexual energy, so focus on your core and how your core presses against that of your partner. Center your energy there where your bodies meet." The brunette has nearly managed to copy you, no doubt aided by her long legs as she presses her crotch to that of the blonde guy. The redhead looks to be struggling, but Eli has helpfully gripped her by her butt to hold her close.

You wonder about this overtly sexual direction for the class. You didn't train to be a sex yoga instructor but having everyone pair up to grind on each other somehow seems like the style of yoga the studio owner wanted. Rubbing up on a student is a first for you, but it somehow feels no different from any other yoga pose you might twist yourself into, and the students did sign up. As you again grind on Lincoln, you realize he's pulled down his leggings to bare his cock while you were lost to thought about the nature of the class, the thick head of his cock smearing precum across your gray yoga pants.

You look down to his cock, only the thin fabric of your leggings keeping it from your own heat. Lincoln leans in closer and says, "Am I doing this right? Centering my sexual energy and all?" He doesn't wait for an answer before he reaches to where your leggings are pulled taut by your vertical split, grabbing at the crotch area to tear the fabric so his cock bumps up against the front of your thong, the torn leggings baring your underwear to the rest of the class.

You nod to him and look to the rest of the class. No one else has proven as bold as Lincoln: while Eli and Miles (who you've figured out is the bronzed blonde) both tent their tight leggings with impressive hard-ons, neither has outright pulled out what they're packing in those tights. You divert your attention away from the hard cock rubbing up against your thong to say to the class, "Lincoln has the right idea. The closer to skin you can get, the more you can focus your energy on each other's cores." Eli and Miles take the hint and pull their cocks out to grind against their partners' crotches.

As Lincoln assaults the front of your thong with his cock, he lifts up on your hips until you're balancing on the ball of your foot, barely maintaining contact with the floor. He tugs at the back of your thong, pulling it to one side, the broad head of his cock rubbing against the slick outer lips of your sex. In this moment, you look to the rest of the class and instruct the girls to tear their leggings like yours to facilitate this pose and any other. Thongs and round butts are soon on full display. To the girls, you say, "We're looking to stretch our every muscle with yoga. Lincoln is on the right track for helping his partner stretch."

Lincoln starts to push inside you. You were wet before, but now you're drenched. Your legs tremble with the strain of maintaining the pose; you may be fit and trained, but you can only keep your leg outstretched for so long as a cock eases into your hot pussy. The scene around you is of your students starting to fuck: the handsome Eli pushes into the redhead while blonde Miles has his cock in the pussy of the leggy brunette. The angles are all too sharp to allow any of the guys to slide deep. You designed this pose to be a shallow fuck on purpose; each cock gets only the slightest dip into pussy in this ice breaker.

You gyrate in slow circles on the head of the cock inside you. Looking to the class, you say, "I hope everyone is getting to be familiar with their classmates. Take another moment to get in a really good stretch and we'll move on to the next pose." Lincoln throbs inside you. "We'll ah be getting more intimate yet."