Accept Yasmin's handjob

You imagine if you had, in the middle of class, ripped off Yasmin's yoga pants and thrust immediately into her. You imagine spanking her sexual frustration out of her as you bend her over and **** her to her hands and knees, never letting up your thrusting. The way those two fat fleshy mounds would jiggle as your abs hit them, again, and again, and again.

There's only one way that this problem is getting solved. You are just about to lower your pants and use your own spit as lube when there is a knock on the door. Something about the knock's gentleness encourages you to pay attention.

"Occupied," you call out, waiting for there to be no interruption before you actually touch yourself. It would just feel weird.

There's a pause, and then just as you are about to do the deed, Yasmin says: "I know. I want to apologize. Can you let me in?"

Apologize? You get up, making sure your pants are fully up, and approach the door. When you open it she is standing there, nervous. Her hands are folded.

"I told you, my sacral chakra is not aligned," she says. "I made bad decisions out of my own raw desire for pleasure, and it is not your fault."

"Uh...yeah," you say, starting to regret opening the door. "Look, It's literally okay. You can go back to class."

"No," she glances down at your erection, which you then hide behind the door. "I feel that wouldn't be fair."

"What else would you do?"

"I would help align your sacral chakra. Like I said I would."

Again, it is so casual that you have to actually remind yourself: Yes. That does mean what you think it means.

"Does that mean you'll...?"

"I'll give you an orgasm if you let me in," she says.

That's all the encouragement you need. You swing open the door and she enters swiftly, hands still folded. Now you notice that she is pulling out and stretching all her fingers. When she finishes, she reaches into the bag that she brought into class with her and pulls out a small bottle.

"What are you--"

"Please sit down," she says.

You sit on the toilet. She goes down to her knees. Her large eyes are locked onto yours as she pours the fluid into her hands, then she looks down at your pants. "You can go ahead and pull them down, if you want."

You do so with zero hesitation. She examines your phallus, and nods at it. Then she rubs her hands together and gets the fluid that you now realize is oil into the cracks between them. She stretches out her fingers one last time, then grabs hold of your shaft.

"Have you ever had a handjob, before?" she asks, as she starts slowly sliding her hand up and down, so subtly and delicately that it is almost more comfortable than pleasurable.

"I have," you say.

"I see. Then I'm glad that you'll still understand that this won't be normal," she says. Then, in a tone that makes it clear that she is not bragging at all: "Please do not expect this from anyone else. It wouldn't be fair to other girls."

"Got...it!" Your entire body spasms as her hand wriggles along your cock in a way that stimulates all of its core pleasure centers to the exact right degree. She does not let up. Her left hand wraps around your base the moment that her right goes over your head, and she moves between them in a cycle. You become nearly delirious with pleasure. You are fairly certain that you yelp, but you might not have. You couldn't tell.

Once she has stimulated the most pleasurable parts of your dick repeatedly, as she goes up, she says. "You are now lubricated and your core circles are stimulated. Is it okay if I start?

"You haven't...started...yet?" You ask. You already feel as though, when you're touching your own dick, you're doing it wrong.

"No. Do I have your permission?"

"Yes. Yes please."

"Okay," and then her hands alternate between twisting and massaging your cock.

Her fingers run up the underside of your dick toward the sensitive section under your head, gently at first, then she wraps both her hands around the head and twists as she goes down. There are a few furious jerks, and then she comes back up softly and starts stimulating what she calls your "core circles" again. This is only the start. Soon the pleasure becomes so intense that you cannot even comprehend or recall what she is doing. Her eyes are now focused entirely on your dick the way you've seen them focused on you. You spasm and shudder, and still you have not come. How long has it been? Hours, minutes?

"Please don't imitate this when you touch yourself, as well," she says, right before her fingers drill into the exactly perfect places on your cock to make the biggest but most pleasurable impact. Now you scream. You can't help it.

"Oh," she frowns, sympathetically. "You really have never felt this before, have you? I'm sorry."

You try to speak back, but all conscious thought has fled. You only understand pleasure.

She says, "I'm going to finish you off, then, no sense in drawing it out."

You manage a nod. She quickens the pace, her hands now massaging your cock while running up it in a continuous flowing motion. Your orgasm is literally being pulled out of you, and she has all the focus of someone trying to crack a fairly difficult, yet very breakable nut.

Finally, you reach the point of no return, your hands go to the sides of the toilet and hold on for dear life as a massive column of semen shoots from your cock and flies well over your head. Others follow. The sensations are so intense that it takes you a second to even process them, and when you do so much pleasure shoots directly into your brain that you are worried that you may pass out. Maybe you do, for a fraction of a second.

When you come to, there is a serpent of jizz running down your abs, and another coiled around your dick and running across your leg. More of it, still, is coating her hands. She holds up one of her hands and licks your sperm from it. She sighs and says, "how sad, you aren't vegan."

"I..." you gasp, stammer. Try to control yourself. "Yasmin, holy fucking hell."

She stands up with a soft smile. "It is only right, after the trouble I caused. Do you feel like your sacral chakra is better aligned now?"

"I...don't even know what that means, and still yes."

You realize that your cock is still pulsing. After a few seconds, it shrivels. She gets up and washes her hands, but as she's drying them you see her examining you in the mirror.

"We should get back to class," she says. "We can't afford to miss it entirely. Not on the second day."

"I...right," you gasp and murmur. "Right, right."

But as you head back to a yoga class that will be neither educational for you, nor eventful, you catch her full-moon eyes glancing down at your crotch one last time. A small lick of her lips tells you everything that you need to know. Your sacral chakra might have been aligned, but hers is still starving.