Namaste Yoga Pt 08

"Charlie? Hi!" Emmy had just come back from a morning meeting to find a message.

"Emmy. I'm glad you could get back to me. I know you know this, but the last of your sessions finished yesterday and I'm calling to check in to see if you have any feedback. Is this a good time?"

Emmy glanced at her calendar, not seeing anything for another hour.

Did she want to give feedback? What kind of feedback? To Charlie? The receptionist?

She could only imagine ludicrous answers to her questions: "Oh, I really enjoyed feeling Yogi Jacob's thick hot cock fucking me." Or "Satisfied? More than satisfied. The only thing I would have enjoyed more is feeling his hot cum down my throat! Doesn't he ever cum?"

But, she graciously accepted the opportunity. The questions were what she would have expected and she giggled at the thought of giving one of her knee-jerk responses, but she played it straight.

"So, that's great, Emmy. We really appreciate it. Now, I'm not here to sell you anything; it isn't our way of doing things. But if you are thinking about doing another set, we have a returning member discount."

"Thanks," she paused. "I need to think about it...maybe, before committing to more. It was pretty intense." She could feel herself moistening just at the memory of the last couple of sessions: how he let her be herself, opening to him, begging him with and without words. She only wished she could find someone like him who understood her so well.

"Of course..." Charlie paused.

"Is there something else?"

"So...I don't know how to say this. Shoot. I'll just come out with it. I'm not talking to you as an employee of NamasteYoga now, okay?" Charlie paused again, counting heartbeats.

"Oookaay."

Where was this going?

"I just...well...I really would like to be friends with you. Since you came into the studio a while back, I've been meaning to suggest we go out for a drink or something. Would you be interested in having a drink?" She rushed the words as if she was really nervous.

Emmy shook her head in confusion.

What was going on? First Greg, then Julie, and the guys around the office? Now Charlie wants to hang with me?

She was flattered and couldn't quite get her head around it. "Ummm, wow, Charlie, that's so nice. I...when were you thinking?"

"I'm easy," she said it as if she had shrugged. "I'm going out with a few friends tonight if you're available. Compton's. Over on 3

rd

. You know it?"

She didn't have any plans, as it happened, other than doing some laundry which could easily wait. "Sure! Of course. It looks like I have a meeting until 4:30. I could be there by 5. Their Happy Hour doesn't start til then anyway. Oh! Shoot! I forgot, you probably are there later than that!"

"Nope, nope, 5PM is perfect. We close early on Wednesdays. Oh and Emmy?" She waited for her answer, "thank you. I really appreciate it."

They both arrived almost at exactly the same moment, Charlie watching Emmy's skirt swooshing through the door just as she reached for the pull.

The place was filling up, but there were still plenty of tables. Eyeing a booth near the bar, Charlie asked the hostess if they could take it.

"So, long day?" Charlie pulled off her jacket and set it on the seat.

Emmy looked around the room, making some kind of non-committal response. Looking back at the room she wondered if she knew anybody.

"So, what will you have?" The waitress looked attentive.

"Moscow Mule," Charlie replied, quickly.

Emmy looked at her and raised her eyebrows. "What the hell. Me too."

They made small talk about the studio until the drinks arrived.

"What do you do?" Charlie took a drink from her mug.

"Hah! I have the most boring job in the world..."

Charlie waited, feigning interest to get her talking.

"Really? You want to know? I'm a front line manager at a placement agency for temps." She took a long swallow. Charlie noticed her throat didn't move.

"That's a neat trick. How do you do that?"

Emmy laughed again and tried to explain, the alcohol hitting her brain pretty hard. "Shoot, that came out all wrong. Maybe we should get a plate of fries or something."

Charlie called the server over, they decided on some food, and she ordered them a second round.

"I dunno," Emmy tried to protest. "It's a school night."

Charlie kept the conversation light, asking Emmy to make up stories about other people in the bar. "She's having an affair," Charlie giggled, eyeing a young woman with cat's eye glasses being coy with an older man.

Emmy blushed, thinking about the scene with Yogi Jacobs, feeling him slide into her, forcing herself against him. The last several weeks had almost obliterated her obsessive memory of the sauna; almost but not quite. Now the scenes from the studio, the smell of incense, kneeling and taking Jacob in her mouth, the L from just the other day, and Greg's thick cock sliding into her throat, the smell of dry cedar and sweat.

"What? Did I strike a nerve?" Charlie paused and looked scandalized. "Don't tell me! You're having an affair? But do you even have a steady guy?"

"No!" Emmy laughed, finishing her drink to buy some time. "I'm...that's...oh, forget it." Still laughing she looked at the other woman to make sure she wasn't making fun of her.

Charlie's eyes glinted in the bar light, with a mischievous expression.

The food and drinks arrived interrupting the discussion momentarily.

"So, tell me, has Yogi Jacob behaved himself?" Charlie sipping her drink, eyeing Emmy over the rim of her glass.

"What?" She, almost choked, looking confused. "I...Why? Has he 'misbehaved' before?"

Charlie pressed her lips together. "We've had to remind him that just because the clients are naked doesn't mean he gets to take advantage of them." She had inched closer on the banquette and put her hand on Emmy's thigh.

The woman's touch didn't go unnoticed, signaling an alarm from one of the voices. "Uhhmm, what has he done?" Emmy got quiet, grabbing some fries and nursing her drink.

"Well, late last year, a client tried to sue him for sexual harassment."

Emmy looked alarmed.

Charlie nodded, taking a sip. "Yep. She claimed he came onto her, forced her to take his dick into her mouth and...well, you can finish the sentence."

Emmy didn't know where the conversation was leading, but she could definitely relate. She felt her pussy moisten at the imagery.

"But then he counter-sued that she had tried to seduce

him

. It was expensive, and not very amusing." Charlie looked at Emmy. "But you have to admit, he's pretty well hung, right?"

Emmy choked a little and looked up, guilty at the suggestion she'd seen him naked. "I..."

"No, don't deny it. You've seen him. He's as big as a pole when he's hard." Charlie waited a heartbeat. "You can trust me on that. I had a helluva time fitting him in. Couldn't take him down my throat, that's for certain."

Emmy stopped and stared, shaking her head unconsciously.

Why was she telling me this?

She realized they were supposed to be meeting some of her friends. "Hey, aren't your friends coming?"

Just then, Charlie looked down at her phone. "Funny you should say that. They just texted sending their regrets. Shoot! I really wanted you to meet them. I think you guys would really hit it off." She leaned over to whisper confidentially, "I think you'd find they'd treat you the way you want to be: stripped bare, making you beg for release. They're pros."

Emmy could feel the drink mixing with the reaction from Charlie's words and her own voice rising in volume.

Stupid! Stupid stupid stupid!

And just as quickly, her arousal building at the realization that something was going to happen. "No...please...what?" She barely whispered the words, wanting to just grab her purse and leave, but feeling frozen to the seat as Charlie's fingers pressed lightly into her thigh.

"There's something I wanted you to see, and then I was curious if you could answer a question for me." Charlie fiddled with her phone for a moment and then scrunched over on the seat until their thighs were pressed together.

Emmy looked down to see herself, in Hero's pose, naked, Yogi Jacob's cock, erect and huge, just inches from her forehead. "No," she whispered, over and over again. She couldn't look away, couldn't look at Charlie, couldn't bear to admit her arousal was going to overcome her.

StopIt!StopIT! STOP IT NOW!

But she couldn't. She didn't want to. She was frozen like a rabbit in a coyote's mouth.

"So, I get this." She waved the phone suggesting the scene wasn't out of the ordinary. "In my experience, he doesn't get this hard for most people, but it's what happens next I needed some help with."

Emmy watched as she said something unintelligible and Yogi Jacob stepped forward, placing his feet on either side of her, his sac against her mouth and nose. She remembered the spice, the tickle of his hairs, the roughness of his scrotum's wrinkle and the sheer joy of opening her mouth to take his balls in, to wrap her lips around them and run her tongue up behind his cock to taste his sweat.

"What," Charlie's voice broke through, "did you say just before he moved? I've listened and listened and listened, but the best I can make it is, 'Please...' something something 'mouth.'" Charlie left the video playing while she waited for Emmy to answer.

"No," she whispered. "Please...don't."

"See, it's kind of important. If you

asked

to take his dick in your mouth, well, technically his ball-sac...this time...that's one thing. But if you asked that he

not

put his scrotum in your mouth, then that's quite a different thing. Right?" She took a drink, leaving the movie playing on the table. "I mean, you see that, right?" She moved her hand down to Emmy's leg and pulled gently at her skirt.

"No, Charlie. Please. What are you doing?" But she didn't move her hand to stop her.

OHMYGOD! What's happening? FuckFUCKFUCK!

"See, I've been tasked with keeping Jacob on the straight and narrow. No forcing himself. Hold on. Here's another one." She removed her hand, Emmy's skirt half-way to her waist, and advanced to another video. "There, again, we couldn't make out the audio, but you look like you're begging for it. Man, you must be pretty flexible to take him in like that."

Emmy stared in a morbid fascination at her taking Yogi Jacob's hard cock into her pussy as she pushed against the wall. From this angle, she could see her breasts hanging and swinging as he pulled and pushed inside her.

"Were you begging him to fuck you? Or were you begging him

not

to?" Charlie took another drink, dipping her fingers into the glass and running them on Emmy's naked thigh.

She jumped at the shock of cold, not looking up from the phone, not bearing to look at Charlie. "I..." She didn't want to get Yogi Jacob in trouble, and if she simply answered truthfully, she wouldn't. But then Charlie would know for sure, and she could tell where that might lead. Her pussy pulsed at the idea, even as her heart began to panic. "I...begged..." was as far as she could manage.

"Hmmm," Charlie's fingers moved Emmy's skirt up until they felt the hem of her underwear. "You're not just protecting him, right?" She curled a nail under the elastic, running it slowly toward the inside of her thigh.

Emmy's mouth opened and closed, her thighs struggling not to close. She desperately wanted to keep Charlie from going where she was heading, but her arousal was winning the battle. She knew what was coming next, just not the details. "No..." she whispered, frozen, her thoughts swirling, the alcohol dropping her inhibitions. "Please. I...why are you doing this?"

Charlie's finger had traveled along her thigh until she had pressed the tip just inside the cotton liner. Emmy tried to shift her legs to stop her, but it was too late.

"Why?" Charlies finger probed up, the tip just pushing between the soaked fabric and her swollen lips. "Why are you so

fucking

wet?" She whispered the last, turning her face directly at Emmy. "Oh...wait. If this turned you on, just wait til you see this."

She removed her finger, wiping it on Emmy's skirt and skipped around her videos until she held it up for Emmy to see.

In it, a woman Emmy didn't recognize, naked, in bridge, supported by two large blocks, her legs spread wide. From the camera angle, she watched as Yogi Jacob, naked, his penis erect and dark approached the woman, sliding it slowly along her obviously wet lips, her moisture glistening on his shaft. In his hand, the dark mahogany dildo she'd seen him use on Julie, sliding in when his dick pulled down, up, down, the two rubbed against her, not entering her, slick with her moisture. Her hands grabbed her ankles to open herself wider. "Slide it in me, Yogi Jacob!" The woman begged.

Emmy felt a rush of moisture slide down inside her and moaned. "No, Charlie," she said quietly, "please...stop."

"Actually, Emmy, I was thinking something completely different." Charlies hand moved between the table edge and Emmy's waist, her fingers slipping inside the waistband of her skirt and panties. "I want to hear you ask me to slide my fingers inside you." She stopped just as her fingertips reached the top of her slit, running lightly across her pubic hair.

Emmy shook her head, not daring to look up, not daring to speak, pinned to the seat, wishing Charlie would take her hand away, wishing she'd go down deeper. Wishing the video would stop. The woman was begging him harder, pushing against the wood and flesh; Emmy was convinced the rest of the bar could hear her.

"I won't do anything you don't want, Emmy." Charlie's voice whispered in her ear, and Emmy felt the tip of her tongue lightly touch the hairs just inside it. "I know you want it. Beg me, Emmy."

She groaned softly, tilting her pelvis to push her clit against Charlie's fingers.

"Uh uhn," Charlie chastised her. "Beg for it, Emmy. Like you said you begged Yogi Jacob. Like she's begging him."

Emmy watched as Jacob took the soaked wood and slid it down to between the woman's ass cheeks, and then slowly impaled it inside her tight ring. As he pushed it in, she begged for his cock in her "hot cunt!" She stared as he slowly fed his cock into her, pushing the wood and then his flesh until both were seated to the hilt.

"Please," she whispered, "not here. What if they could see?"

Charlie nibbled on her ear. "Lift up, Emmy." She ran her other hand behind to pull the skirt and panties down until Emmy was exposed just under the table. "Now beg me, the way you begged Jacob. We have to know." Her fingers behind grazed Emmy's puckered hole, her fingers in front barely touched the top of her lips.

"Please, Charlie, please!" She could feel her resistance flowing away, her smell rising up. "Fuckkkkk," she sighed. "Please..."

Charlie tickled with one finger and teased with the other. "You don't want Jacob to get in trouble, right? You say you begged him. We need proof. This will prove it. Beg me, just like you begged him." She waited, teasing. "You need it this way, right?"

And again, just like that, she felt the switch flip and she groaned, pushing down against Charlie's fingers. "Please," she begged, "please fuck me with your finger."

She was rewarded with Charlie's middle finger sliding across her clit to curl and push and extend, until her wrist was bent, fully pushing the finger deep inside her. She pulled it out, and pushed it back in. In and out until Emmy's cunt made a sucking sound.

"No, god! Stop! They'll hear," Emmy hissed.

"Do you want to cum? On my finger?"

Emmy shook her head, her eyes closing to stop the tears. "No...not here. Please."

"Look at me, Emmy. Look at me." Charlie stopped her finger when Emmy looked up, her eyes rimmed red, moistening. "I'll let you off on one condition."

Emmy sniffled back the tears. "What?"

"You will come home with me tonight and show me how you can beg for release."

Emmy stared at her in disbelief, feeling her finger moving in slow circles, her knuckle bumping against her swollen clit, pulsing to her core. "Oh, gawwwdddd, Charlie," she moaned as the finger up her ass pushed against her. "Please, please, please," she panted, mortified someone might hear her; hoping someone had. She needed this; she'd been keyed up since her last session, and the drinks with Julie just last night: the sweet electricity Charlie was sending through her body broke her resistance. "Okayokayokay," she whispered.

Charlie pulled her finger from her pussy and swizzled it Emmy's drink before pushing it into her mouth. "That's it, Emmy. Clean it off." She leaned closer. "Kick your panties onto the floor, you won't be needing them...that's right. No. Keep your stockings on. Nice tongue. I can't wait to feel it inside me." She wriggled her finger inside her ass. "Yes," she mused, "you should feel how wet you're making me.

"Oh, on second thought, you can! Tell me how much you want to feel me, how much you want to know how wet you're making me."

Emmy groaned and looked around, her eyes out of focus from the tears, Charlie's fingers slipping from her lips to let her beg.

What am I doing? Stupid! FUCK. FUCK!

"Charlie," she whispered, feeling her juices flowing onto the banquette, "please...fucckkk..." She'd never stroked another woman. The images of Sharon and Willow teasing her on the beach rose up, sending another burst of arousal through her center. She turned to see Charlie, face flushed, aroused and in need. Even more juices flowed at the idea she was turning Charlie on. She needed this! Charlie wanted this!

But why here?!

She shivered at the thought of what would happen when they

weren't

here. She felt the switch teetering and flip, the words rushing from her. "Please, Charlie," she begged softly, "let me stroke you."

Charlie slipped her fingers back into Emmy's mouth, who, for all intents and purposes was naked in the bar. She couldn't stand it, squirming against Charlies finger in her ass as she wiggled her hand inside Charlie's waistband. Emmy's fingers slipped under her underwear, sliding down and across her wiry bush until she peeled her lips apart to discover how soaked Charlie had become. Confirming she had been the cause of Charlie's arousal jolted her.

With Emmy's finger buried in her pussy, Charlie waved the server over asking for the bill. "Unh unh," she whispered as Emmy tried to pull out. "That feels too good to stop. Relax. Nobody notices...or cares."

Emmy grabbed her drink with her free hand and dumped it down her throat, slamming her legs closed. As if that made any difference. Her skirt was still crunched around her knees, her pubic triangle visible to anyone who looked over the table's edge.

"Okay," Charlie said, her voice a little huskier than usual. "Let's get you out of here."

She let Emmy recover her hand and pull up her skirt. Gathering their jackets, they slid out of the booth, making their way to the parking lot.

"We'll take my car. I'll get you back to yours tonight...or tomorrow."

Emmy was having trouble walking, thanking her for driving.

What the fuck? Thanking her? For what?

The car ride over was surreal. Her brain swimming in alcohol, her body aroused more than she could remember, but mostly her anxiety at what Charlie was going to do to her. She started to hyperventilate.

"Hey," Charlie looked over. "What's up?" Her hand came off the steering wheel to stroke Emmy's thigh. "Breathe."

"I...I don't know what...what you're going to...what I..." She gulped in air, her heart pounding, her slit oozing onto her skirt, exposed to the air vents.

"Umm hmmm. I can smell that. Tell me what you think I'm going to do...and what you fear most." Her hand stroked up to slide against Emmy's pussy.