A Stimulating Yoga Class

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Faye would always associate college with the smell of eucalyptus in late summer, the dusty dry of the campus, and that pale-yellow California sunshine. The fragrance had seemed cloying—almost suffocating—that first August, impossible to escape. It was kind of like how she felt about being in school. Faye had grown up in a college town herself, her mother taught Anthropology, her father was an artist and musician. She had grown up in this eclectic radical intellectual academic artist community of exiles and emigres, of critics and deconstructionists. Not to mention pranksters, old hippies, socialists, filmmakers, philosophers, and political organizers.

College had looked to be too much the same: a liberal bubble where the bubbleheads argued about how many neutrinos could be found on the head of a pin and what its preferred pronoun was. Deep thought. Too much like home, she thought. One of her professors knew her parents. It had been a year before she found her home in the photography department and began to make real friends.

She may have hated the scent of eucalyptus at first; it felt nostalgic now that she had only two semesters to go. It was the first day of classes and he was headed for morning yoga with mixed anticipation. Shalani was her favorite teacher and the class was way oversubscribed. She felt fortunate to get in, so there was no way she would miss it and risk losing her place.

But today it felt risky. Her heightened sense of smell was almost certainly hormonal. About a week after her period, she typically became much more sensitive to touch and smell, especially human odors, the smell of food—or garbage. The other telltale sign was that she was also hornier than usual. She had been aware of it that morning as she showered: a fullness and sensitivity in her groin. There was a medical term for it: genital vasocongestion. As she walked across the quad, she was aware of this sensation, this subtle pressure in her vulva, it held her attention even though she desperately wanted to put it out of her mind.

Yoga class was an environment where she was sure to encounter sweat borne hormones and pheromones and steroids and a myriad of other body odors. To which she feared her own body would respond in ways that might be noticeable even to her classmates. She feared that she would, herself, too soon be exuding aromas that would be pungent, perhaps what one could describe as musky.

She regretted having donned the fashionable patterned yoga pants: skin tight, revealing her soft curves and the roundness in her behind. Like most young women, she was insecure about her looks, even though girlfriends told her that the way she moved was sensuous and that her full mouth and wide deep brown eyes were admired by the males around her. All she could see was her too-large nose, ears that stuck out from her thick black shoulder length hair, and the smallness of her breasts. The last thing she wanted to do was call any attention to herself, especially her body and her sexuality. She just wanted to stretch and move.

If her arousal were to be evident, it felt to her that would be a far more intimate thing to reveal than if she were nude. Others in the room would know she was turned on. Like all yoga classes, this one would be largely female, but not exclusively. What if some guy smelled her? Gross and creepy. Her stride slowed as she approached the gym, ambivalent. The motion of her legs and hips as she canlı bahis had crossed the quad seemed to have stimulated her even more. Faye felt a longing to feel something…inside her, penetrating her body. She licked her lips and drew in a deep breath.

She entered just moments before the class was to begin, giving small silent smiles and waves to friends she had not seen since May. She edged towards the back wanting to hide if at all possible. She remained self-conscious; she was not sure if she was imagining that she could smell her own arousal or if anyone nearby would be catching a whiff as well. She hoped it was her imagination.

At the last minute a male student she didn’t know snagged the spot just behind her and quickly unrolled his mat. He too had yoga pants on and he fell gracefully into a full lotus. Like hers, his outfit left little to the imagination. What ever happened to sweat pants, Faye wondered as she turned away. She sniffed, aware now of his scent added to the already pungent air.

Downward dog… *phew* Faye looked at her mat all too aware that her butt was raised high in the air, giving the guy behind her a view. Warrior; she rose and looked at the distant ceiling, grateful that this was a gym not a closed low-ceilinged room where scents would not diffuse. Reverse Warrior. She felt her legs stretch as she bent back over her outstretched left leg. She sighed, feeling the tension shift as she followed Shalani’s cadence, moving with the group, flexing and bending, twisting and reaching. Not that she was any less aware of her arousal. If anything, the poses were making her hotter. When they came to the wide legged forward bend, she sensed that her crotch was not only visible to the male behind her, but also exuding the odor of her excitement. She flushed. Fortunately, she could tell that Shalani was nearing the end as she moved through the chakras. Faye remained intensely aware of the fullness between her thighs, more pressing than before.

The next to the last pose was Cat-Flow. If she would simply be on her knees arching her back, this would be just fine. But in intermediate, you were expected to do a backbend version. She knew from experience that backbend poses put pressure on her genitals. Her head would be hanging down facing the boy behind her, so at least he would not be able to see her crotch. She could feel herself blushing, face, chest, and…lower. Her head fell back and she could not help but see more than she wanted to of the boy behind her. His tight yoga pants brought his package into sharp relief. There was no way not notice that his cock was thick, perhaps semi-erect. His body odors were strong as well. The sight and smell sent a jolt of adrenaline through her body. Now there was little question that she could smell her own arousal, too. How could he fail to notice? Finally, they ended with Savasana. She lay back, pressed the small of her back to her mat, closed her eyes and tried to use the next few minutes to cool down.

She had little success. When class ended she sprang up to make a hasty retreat. But the room was full of bodies rolling mats, chatting with friends, towels soaking up sweat. The boy behind her stood apparently waiting for her to move; she could still see more than she wanted to. As she glanced back, his penis was bulging. Involuntarily, she found herself imagining it hard and inside of her. Filling her. She took in a breath, realizing too late bahis siteleri that she had held her gaze on his crotch just a moment too long. He had caught her staring. She gave a nervous laugh as he looked her up and down in an exaggerated fashion, perhaps teasing her, and probably to make his own judgements.

Faye felt bedraggled from the workout and her, ah, condition. Her small breasts and well-muscled legs and arms made her self-conscious. Her light brown skin made her racially ambiguous, as they say, and then there was the mole on her cheek. She had petitioned her parents for years to let her get it removed to no avail. They called it a “beauty mark”. It just added to the perception that she was “exotic.” She knew other girls wished to be exotic, but little did they know the assumptions that people made because of the that, from the idiotic to the crude and offensive. She had no idea how she looked to this boy. The worst part is that she feared he would think she was coming on to him, making a pass. She might have had a quick fantasy about his cock, but she had had no intention of letting him know that.

The boy, she finally noticed, was kind of ambiguous too with caramel colored skin. And attractive with an impish smile. Middle eastern maybe? Filipino? Swarthy with dark hair, golden brown eyes, a square face; well-muscled himself. “Mateo,” he said holding out a hand. Latinx or Italian, then, she thought.

“Faye,” she said through an awkward smile of her own, lightly touching his warm hand. “Gotta run,” she said with an apology in her voice and her mat under her arm. Then she pushed towards the door, her face aflame with embarrassment. Her left breast had rubbed against his arm as she passed, and she could feel another jolt at the contact. She drew in her breath, headed back to her dorm, ignoring the calls from friends as well as the grinning Mateo.

She could not believe the sensations she was experiencing. The image of his bulging cock and his scent stuck in her mind as she moved quickly toward her room. Fortunately, there were few out and about. Still, she kept her head down, wanting to avoid contact. And equally fortunately, she had a single for her senior year. She closed and locked to the door, standing for a moment with her back to it. She was breathing heavily, but whether it was from the exercise or her arousal, she had no idea. Without thinking she tugged off the tight pants dropping them unceremoniously on the floor and breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. The room was neat, though her bed clothes were just loosely arranged. She moved towards the long narrow bed and sat at the head, her back to the wall and her bare legs splayed in front of her.

Leaning back and closing her eyes, Faye let her hands roam, sliding up under her top and bra to cup her breasts, tease her nipples, and then down, inside her underwear. She lightly brushed her trim but thick dark pubic hair, gasping at even that light touch. The scent of her arousal was heavier now, dusky. And then she found her swollen labia. Pulling down her underwear she could see that they were engorged with blood making her mons a dark red. Her clitoris was already prominent and sensitive. Moving lower the thick lubrication that had been forming in her vagina was leaking out. She rubbed her fingers to get them slippery and teased her clit, shivering involuntarily at her own touch, her legs closing around her hand. She knew bahis şirketleri what she wanted though, what she needed. Her fingers were not up to the task alone. Opening her bedside drawer, she took out a terrycloth bag and removed the silicone object inside. It looked uncannily like a penis: not too long, though above average in girth, anatomically detailed and a brown just a shade darker than her own skin.

Faye grabbed a towel from the same drawer to put under her fanny. She dipped her fingers inside again and spread the lubricant onto the head of the dildo. Leaning back and again closing her eyes, she rubbed the head up and down her slit, making it even more slippery. She teased her clit, the labia, and then… she slowly pressed it against her opening, feeling her Kegels tighten. The head pressed in and then it *popped* past that first tight ring of muscle and was inside. She gasped again in pleasure. She longed to plunge it deep inside, to feel full. Instead, she deliberately and slowly pushed it in, letting it open her up, feeling as it stimulated her labia, and pulled on her clit. She could feel it filling her up and then, the “balls” pressing against her perineum. So intense. Leaving it deep inside, she pulled off her top and bra, caressing her nipples delicately, teasing them, making them hard and more sensitive to her touch. She was breathing heavily now. She could feel her vagina throbbing, probably lightly and rhythmically squeezing the dildo. Her body was flushed.

The image of Mateo’s dick was still in her mind. His scent seemed to still be in her nostrils. She pictured him hard, staring at her, wanting to fuck her. Needing to fuck her. She saw him staring as she pulled the dildo slowly outward and then thrust it back in again, this time with a bit more force. She saw his eyes widen in her imagination. She saw him unable to resist stroking his thick hard cock as she continued to fuck herself. In her mind, Mateo was almost drooling, so enthralled was he.

As she reached plateau, she imagined Mateo nearing his orgasm. She slowed, wanting to draw out her own pleasure. His eyes pleaded with her to go faster. She could see he wouldn’t last much longer. In her mind’s eye, his eyes closed and his hips jerked uncontrollably as he ejaculated. His semen spurted out once, twice, three times.

She paused, so ready to cum. But, instead she rolled over and put her pillow under her. She began to rock her hips, riding the pillow, driving the dildo in and out of her vagina, each thrust harder and faster than the last. She tried to keep a slower pace, but in moments she was sprinting towards her finish, her ass bobbing up and down, her pelvis grinding into the bed, the dildo in and out, as she screamed into the sheets. Her body convulsed in orgasm… she might have passed out; time seemed irrelevant. It seemed to go on and on, waves of pleasure coursing through her. Finally, her sweat sheened body collapsed on the bed and she panted for a long time.

Faye opened her eyes. It was just before noon, still the first day of classes. Her honors photography class met in just over an hour. She did not want to be late and call down the wrath of her prof, Elaine. She put on her robe and went to shower for the second time of the day. She gently caressed and washed her skin, still feeling the vibrations of her orgasm between her thighs… and deep inside. She washed the dildo and dried it carefully, returning it to its place. This time she dressed in looser, less revealing clothing, grabbed a protein bar and, somewhat hesitantly, stepped outside again and headed for the arts complex wondering what other surprises her day might hold.

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