This story is dedicated to the girl in the grocery store who's outfit and appearance inspired the character of Alex.
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Chapter 1
It started innocently enough. My wife was taking a yoga class with her girlfriend on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and her friend, Carol, couldn't go one evening. I kept in shape with middle distance running, and in hindsight I realize that I was condescending about yoga, teasing Amy by saying if you didn't sweat it wasn't a real workout.
She challenged me to go with her the night that Carol couldn't make it, and I figured what the hell, there are a lot of activities worse than watching a group of young women in yoga pants for an hour.
When we got there I was surprised to see about a third of the class was guys and they all looked to be at last as fit as I was, maybe some of them even more so. We started and I found it easy to follow the instructions on how to pose. At the half hour mark I was panting though, and by 45 minutes my shirt was soaked. When the instructor announced we were starting the cool down poses I almost wept for joy.
My wife was very graceful in victory. As I lay gasping on the floor while everyone else was rolling up their mats, she was chatting with a few classmates and ignoring me. I just gazed at her glowing face and taut body and thanked god that she was mine.
I heard a few girls ask her if she was going for a drink after, and I knew that she and Carol usually stopped for a glass of wine after the class on Thursdays with some of the others, but she realized I was not going to be presentable without a shower and a change of clothes, so she begged off.
We talked about it later that night and I conceded defeat, She asked if I enjoyed the class and I told her honestly that the only way I got through it was by using a trick that I learned while running long distances. I made myself think about something pleasurable and it blocked out the pain I was struggling with.
She asked what I focused on during the class, catching me off-guard, and I answered honestly before thinking it through.
"Sex," I said.
As soon as the word was out of my mouth, I knew I was in trouble. She got a crooked smile on her face and looked at me sideways. "With whom?" she challenged.
As I stammered and began to answer "with you, of course!", she added, "No, let me guess..."
"It was Jessica, the blonde girl with the big boobs in the crop top, wasn't it?"
She had picked a very attractive girl from the class who was probably the girl most women would pick, based on most women's assumption that guys go for the biggest rack. It still amazes me that she would think that, given how much I carry on about her cute B cup tits, and all the attention that I give them.
I sighed, and answered quietly,"No, it was the girl with the pixie haircut in front of us."
"Alex?" she asked, somewhat mystified. "The flat chested one in the pink tube top?"
Now, my wife and I have always been able to talk pretty openly about what we find attractive in other people. I probably encourage her to do it more than she does me, but that kind of honesty has never been a problem for us.
"Yep." I confirmed.
"Huh." She grunted, looking both surprised and dismissive at the same. You know the look I am talking about. Women use it when the want to make sure you explain something, but they also want to convey that no matter what you say it couldn't matter less to them.
Being a guy, I immediately took aim at the foot that wasn't in my mouth and shot myself in it. "She has a sweet ass." I said, too defensively even to my ear, as my face turned red.
Now this is where the discussion could go a hundred different ways, depending on the woman. I am blessed, because Amy reacted completely in character. She burst out laughing.
And I kept digging my grave, even as part of my mind was observing it in an out-of-body way and muttering, "that poor bastard..."
"She's cute! She has that gamin face, and short hair, and she is tiny, so even though her butt is a little bit big for her, it's still very nice. I also like her tattoos." I said, trailing off at the end as I finally forced myself to shut up.
My wife had the last word, of course, grinning at me and nodding her head knowingly as she proclaimed, "Alex sweet ass, huh?"
I finally developed the uncommon good sense to shut the fuck up and let it lie for the rest of the night, and when we went to bed, Amy actually gave me a peck on the cheek.
"I love you," I told her reflexively.
"As much as you love sweet ass?" she quipped, giggling and rolling over away from me with my arm clutched to her chest, pulling me into the spoon position behind her.
I sighed, and let it go.
Over the following week, I carefully avoided the subject of the yoga class, and Amy went to the next two with her friend Carol, staying after the class on the following Thursday, as was the norm, to socialize with her classmates. I started to breath easy again.
Winter turned to spring, and Amy began imploring me to join her in the yoga class. She said she was starting to feel love handles at my waist, and the running was not going to keep me in shape at my current 3 to 4 times per week.
She was right, of course, and I considered my options. I could either put in a couple more 10k runs each week, or spend about the same time with her and Carol doing yoga. I could no longer dismiss the idea out of hand, given my first experience, so I agreed to try it for a while.
I struggled for the first month as my body got used to working a whole different set of muscles than I was using during running. Eventually, I started to actually enjoy the classes, and I noticed my overall strength improving, as well as my posture and breathing. I was becoming a fan of the ancient art!
I also started attending the Thursday after class events, and found out there was a group of regulars that showed up each week, including both girls and guys. Amy could do a whole class and end up no worse for wear appearance-wise, which still amazed me. She met me at the class after changing into her yoga outfit at her office beforehand, and she still looked fresh enough for the bar we went to afterwards. I had to take a change of clothes with me to the class, and because it was held at the community center and there was no locker room there, I would swap my shorts and tee shirt for a dry outfit in the parking lot at the bar before we went in.
It was in April when Amy started doing some double shifts at the hospital to cover for other nurses who were taking vacations. I found myself faced with going to the class without her, and decided it was important to me, so I joined Carol and went without Amy on two occasions.
The second time Amy missed the class was a Thursday, and I was ready to head home after it was over, but Carol wanted to meet the group at the bar and didn't feel comfortable doing so without Amy or someone to accompany her.
