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control
    exercises.
    In through the nose, pul ing energy up,
    then out through
    the mouth, trying to release tension in
    her shoulders.
    Though yoga required focus and
    concentration for
    maximum benefit, within three breath
    cycles she knew that
    was a lost cause for her today. But an
    intensely physical
    workout would be good. She’d work
    both their asses off,
    and then she’d be too exhausted to
    think. Saying no to that
    Tantric class would be automatic, no
    more than a reflex
    she’d conditioned and used countless
    times to maintain her
    privacy and solitude. That was best.
    They went from breathing to standing
    and stretching
    asanas as warm-up, and then from
    there she worked them
    into the more difficult poses.
    Unfortunately, it was hard to let
    exertion numb her when Jon gave her
    a yoga experience
    like she’d never had before.
    Even in advanced classes, she
    couldn’t move at this
    pace, not at this level of difficulty,
    because the class
    couldn’t read her mind. But he
    seemed to anticipate her
    every choice and moved easily with
    her, so it was almost
    as if they were bridging the gap
    between a hatha approach
    and ashtanga , which used flowing,
    dance-like movements
    to transition between postures. It was
    exhilarating.
    And no level of exhaustion could
    help her overlook how
    wel those poses displayed the male
    body. It made one that
    was already beautiful even more so.
    When they transitioned
    into Sleeping Thunderbolt, she found
    herself studying him in
    the corner of her eye. As he folded
    himself to the floor on
    his knees, he aligned his feet on the
    outside of his hips,
    planting that fine ass on the floor
    between his calves. His
    torso elongated in mouthwatering
    display as he arched
    back, his knees remaining on the
    floor as his upper body
    became a crescent and the back of his
    head touched the
    floor, his hands settling into a prayer
    pose on his open
    chest.
    She’d put herself at a diagonal
    position to him so that
    she could watch his posture as his
    teacher, but that was an
    unnecessary adjustment, because his
    form was flawless.
    Watching those taut buttocks resting
    on the floor, she
    wished she could see the strain of his
    thigh muscles
    beneath the loose pants. She was al
    too aware of the
    camber of cock and testicles
    emphasized by the upwardly
    canted position of his hips. She
    wanted to crawl over there,
    slide her hands under the baby soft
    cotton of the tank,
    caress his abdomen, fol ow it with
    mouth and fingers…
    Sleeping Thunderbolt was a
    misnomer, because it
    awakened a storm inside her. Giving
    herself a fierce
    internal shake, she brought them out
    of that for the next
    phase, the inverted asanas , head and
    handstands. When
    she used the wal for hers, he waited
    until she pushed up
    and balanced. It was the only time
    during the class he
    hadn’t been in sync with her, and she
    realized he was
    spotting her, ready to catch her if
    needed. It wasn’t one of
    her personal y easier moves. Though
    most of her students
    wouldn’t have noted that, he
    obviously had. While she was
    qualified to teach yoga, yogis could
    spend decades
    perfecting the moves, and she’d only
    been doing this for a
    few years.
    She’d turned up the room temperature
    to maximize the
    benefit of body heat for their
    practice. It had put a loving
    sheen of perspiration on his muscles,
    which became more
    pronounced as he stripped off the
    shirt, put it aside and
    then pushed up into a ful handstand.
    He had no need of the
    wal , those gorgeous shoulder
    muscles creating a work of
    art as he held his weight and balance
    on his mat.
    The ache in her limbs after that
    sequence and a glance
    at the clock, showing they’d been
    going at it for ninety
    minutes, told her it was time to take it
    down. She moved
    them back into a few sun salutation
    repetitions, then down
    for some floor stretches, easing into
    the closing nidra . Her
    limbs had turned to spaghetti, such
    that she wobbled when
    she