Hot Yoga

I'd been eyeing Melanie at work for a few weeks. She was a new employee at our software development firm, a computer programmer, as am I. I'd chatted a little with her, but hadn't yet worked up the courage to ask her out. I've always been very shy. It didn't help that she is so beautiful. Tall, blond hair, hazel eyes, with a firm, full athlete's body. And a lovely face and smile. It's embarrassing to admit, but too much beauty is intimidating. It's hard to believe someone like that would be interested in an ordinary guy like me. Though it didn't stop me from looking.

But it seemed she was looking back. She'd smile as we crossed in the halls, and she even stopped to ask me about my Labrador puppy, of whom I'd proudly shown her pictures. She was a dog lover too.

Then I bumped into her in the company cafeteria, and she suggested we eat lunch together.

"How do you stay in such great shape?" she asked me. (I do have a nice body, if I don't say so myself.)

"Well, I play tennis, and I run. What about you? You look athletic," I ventured.

"Not so much athletic as active. I used to do aerobics, but now I'm mostly into yoga. It's great for fitness and so calming of the mind," she replied.

"I've never tried yoga, but everyone says it's great."

"Oh yes," she said, "if you tried it, you'd love it."

Nothing more was said of this, but a seed had been planted. A lovely seed that just needed some time to grow and blossom.

We chatted more in the following weeks, and it was clear there was a mutual attraction. Timid me, it fell to her to make the first move.

"Say, Bill," she said to me, "I'm going with a friend this weekend to a hot yoga class we've recently discovered. Why don't you join us?"

Now, I'd heard of hot yoga. Where they heat the room with high humidity, to warm the muscles and to encourage one to sweat. Supposed to be a spiritual experience as well as a physical one.

"I wouldn't know what to do," I said, afraid of looking foolish.

"Not to worry. We'll show you. It's easy. It's just stretching."

In truth, I was pretty dubious about yoga. Isn't that something girls do? But I couldn't turn down an invite from Melanie.

"Sure; let's do it," I replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.

So it was that on Saturday, Melanie, Rachel (her friend) and I drove to a suburban strip mall which housed the yoga studio. She'd told me to dress light, just sandals, shorts and a t-shirt. Melanie and Rachel were also in casual gear, gym shorts and a t-shirt. I quickly noticed that neither was wearing a bra. Rachel was shorter than Melanie, but with a pleasing face and a lovely figure. Yoga was good for that, apparently.

Melanie chatted amicably with me. "Get ready to sweat. It'll be over 100 degrees in there."

"I heard," I said. "Maybe I should have brought a change of clothes. They'll be soaked at the end."

"Don't worry," said Melanie. "There are towels for us to dry off afterward. As the class is in the nude, the clothes will be fine."

I froze. I was stunned. It never occurred to me that I'd be doing this naked. Or more importantly, that Melanie and her friend would be naked.

"Are you sure?" was the best I could muster.

"Of course. Didn't I mention that to you?"

"No."

"Oh. Are you okay? I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Rachel and I are very at ease with our bodies."

"Sure, I'm game," I lied.

Now, I'm not a prude but I rarely do adventurous things. The idea of a nude class caused me to tremble -- with dread, with excitement, with anticipation. I steadied my body not to reveal any of this. In my mind, I was mumbling, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God ...

I guess we three spoke during the drive to the studio, but I can't remember anything after she told me.

The class was co-ed, mostly women but enough men. As promised, it was steaming. There were lockers outside. All the participants stripped off their clothes and put them into the lockers. My eyes were darting around the room at the women shedding their clothes, at breasts and vaginas coming into view. I tried not to be too obvious while watching Melanie out of the corner of my eye. Melanie had beautiful, firm breasts, not too small, not too large. They bounced into view as she pulled the t-shirt over her head. I was breathing heavily until I consciously gained control, so as not to draw attention to myself. Melanie had a lovely mound of blond hair covering her vulva. I love pubic hair. Rachel was shaven, and I could clearly see the lips of the vagina. She was more buxom than Melanie, with broad brown areola.

Through enormous self-control, and maybe Divine intervention, I willed myself not to become erect. None of the men was, so I guess it was just the newbie, me, who had electricity charging through his body.

We walked into the class area. The instructor, a young man of Indian extraction, was in front of the class, facing us. Nude, as were we. His ample penis hung down and I wondered what the women thought. Would they be comparing us (me) to him? Was I the only one for whom this was a fraught experience?

The instructor began with various poses, and we all modeled after him. Melanie was beside me, and encouraged me as I stretched my body into unfamiliar positions. A few times, she put her hand on my body to guide it into the right shape. Her touch was warm and tender. I almost fainted from the touch.

There were women in front of me, and I stared at their bare backs and behinds, and then their private areas, as they bent, stretched and turned. Their breasts hung down and I often found myself light headed from the sight. Somehow I made it through the class without making a fool of myself. We toweled off and dressed. I mourned the reintroduction of clothes onto those gorgeous female bodies.

"How did you like it?", Melanie asked.

"Actually, it was great," I answered, truthfully. "I've never done anything like that. I guess I need to get out more."

Melanie smiled sweetly at me. "And you did great. You've got a supple muscular body. Perfect for yoga."

Then we drove back to Melanie's house, where my car was parked. She invited me in, but I had stupidly promised a friend to help him move some furniture that afternoon. I was sad to leave.

When I got home, I raced into the bathroom. I had submerged the erotic impulses that had flooded over me that morning, but now they spilled out. I masturbated until I was weak. I had to have that release, or I was going to burst.

I could only wonder what Monday at work was going to be like. How do you face a co-worker after being naked with her?

I didn't see her on Monday. She was busy with a project and I couldn't think of a reason to go into her area. Should I call her? And say what? 'Were you as aroused by naked yoga as I was?' So, I did nothing.

It fell to her, again, to take the next step. On Tuesday, she emailed me. "Want to get lunch?"

I almost wept with relief. We were still good. "Sounds great," I texted back. Hoping it sounded nonchalant.

At lunch, Melanie talked about her friend, Rachel.

"I think she really likes you. She couldn't shut up about how well you did for a first yoga class. And she thinks you've got a cute body."

Rachel? I barely looked at her at yoga, I was so preoccupied with Melanie.

"Yeah, Rachel is great," I said, trying to go with the conversation. "Seems like a very nice person."

"Do you think she's your type?" Melanie asked. "I don't know you well enough to know what you like. But I could fix you two up, if you want."

My heart sank. Fix me up with her girlfriend? Passing me off? I couldn't abide that. For perhaps the first time in my life, I spoke from my heart.

"Melanie, you're my type. I've adored you since we first met. I'm so shy that I never said a word. But I don't want to be fixed up with Rachel. I want you."

Melanie looked at me sweetly, then a big smile filled her face.

"I thought you weren't interested in me. You never said a word. I initiated every conversation. I just assumed you weren't interested in me romantically. But I want you too. Naked yoga was my last effort. I figured if that didn't draw you out, nothing ever would. I only brought Rachel along for moral support."

Now, I'm a very reliable employee. Always at his desk on time, never call in sick. Model employee.

"Let's take the afternoon off. I'll tell them I'm not feeling well."

Melanie grinned back at me. She suddenly decided she wasn't feeling well either. We raced to her apartment. We tore off our clothes. That privileged view from the yoga studio was nothing compared to the lust with which I devoured her body, with my eyes and then my hands. I pulled her to me with my hands on her buttocks, pressing my now unashamedly erect penis against her. Her hands gripped my neck, running through my hair. My tongue explored her mouth, then moved down to her breasts and nipples. I swallowed her, sucked and mouthed her. I pulled her down onto the floor. She grabbed my testicles, massaged them, then slowly dragged her hand up my penis, circling around the tip, unleashing waves of pleasurable sensations. When I entered her, I thrust slowly then rapidly into her. Her sweet moans told me she was near. I couldn't hold off longer -- truly it had been weeks of anticipation -- and exploded inside her. I lay limp across her body, as she gently rubbed my back.

That was the first time. Many more followed. And we often went back to that naked yoga class. I didn't need to view the other women. All the woman I wanted was right beside me. But I love the sight of her naked body, and it's good to do stretching.