My New Favorite Yoga Instructor

So, for context: I climb. A lot. Which means I have zero flexibility. Like, I can hang off a cliff by my fingertips, but I can barely touch my toes. My climbing partner has been telling me for months to try yoga to balance things out. So today, like an idiot, I skipped the beginner class and signed up for an advanced hot yoga session. I figured, how hard can it be?

Famous last words, lmao.

The room was basically a sauna, and within two minutes I was dripping sweat. The instructor, Anja, was this tall, serene-looking woman with muscles that were just... carved. She moved with this insane grace while I was flopping around like a dying fish.

She noticed me struggling, of course. She kept walking over to me between poses. "Relax your shoulders," she'd murmur, and then her hands would be on me. The first time, she came up behind me in warrior two and her hands landed on my hips. She wasn't gentle, not really. She was firm, pushing my hips down and forward, forcing them open way more than I thought they could go. I let out this little gasp, half pain and half... something else.

This kept happening. Every time she adjusted me, her touch was so professional but so damn intimate. She'd press her thumb into the small of my back, slide her hand down my hamstring to straighten my leg, her fingers strong and knowing. My whole body was on fire, and only like half of it was from the yoga. I was getting so wet, it was insane. The heat in the room was making everything feel so much more intense.

When class ended, I was a wreck. Everyone filed out, all blissed-out and sweaty. I just kind of stayed on my mat, trying to get my breathing back to normal and, you know, deal with the situation in my leggings.

Anja was at the front, wiping down the instructor's mat. I knew I should just leave, but I couldn't. I walked up to her, my voice feeling shaky. "Hey, um, I was wondering if you had any tips for my forward fold? I'm just... really tight."

(I know, it was such a lame excuse.)

She looked up at me, and her calm, serene instructor face had this little smirk on it. "I noticed," she said. Her voice was low. "You have the strength. You just fight yourself. You need to learn how to let go."

She walked over and locked the studio door. The click echoed in the big, steamy room. My stomach did a full flip.

"Come here," she said, pointing to the middle of the room. "Show me."

I went into a forward fold, my hands barely reaching my shins. She came and stood behind me. I could feel the heat radiating off her body.

"See? You're tense," she whispered. She knelt down. Instead of pushing on my back, she wrapped her arms around my thighs from behind, her hands gripping the tops of my legs. Then she pressed her face against my ass, right through my leggings, and used her own body weight to pull me down. My head dropped between my knees, and a choked-off sound escaped my mouth. Her grip was so strong.

"Better?" she murmured, her voice vibrating against me.

I couldn't even answer. I just nodded.

She let go and had me move into a downward dog. "You hold too much tension in your hips," she said. She put her hands on my lower back, thumbs pressing hard into the muscles on either side of my spine. The feeling was electric. She pushed, forcing my heels to the floor and my chest toward my thighs. Then, one of her hands slid down. All the way down. She didn't even hesitate. Her fingers traced the seam of my leggings right over my clit. I buckled, my elbows almost giving out.

"Breathe, Maya," she whispered, and then her fingers were pressing, right there, through the fabric. I let out this sharp hiss of breath. It was so fucking good. She just held me there, in this incredibly deep stretch, her fingers making these slow, firm circles against me. My hips started to twitch.

She pulled me out of the pose and onto my back. The floor was wet with sweat. She knelt over me, her expression unreadable. "You wanted tips," she said. "The real tip is learning to surrender control."

She hooked my ankles and lifted my legs, pushing them straight up and back over my head into a plow pose. I was completely folded, totally exposed. She peeled my sweaty leggings off me like they were nothing. The slightly cooler air of the room hit my skin, and I shivered. She settled between my legs, pushing them even wider.

Her mouth was on mine then, a hard, demanding kiss that tasted like salt and heat. At the same time, I felt her fingers trace down my stomach, through the sweat, and into my pubic hair. She didn't hesitate. Two fingers slid right inside me, and my whole body jolted. She was so sure, so confident. She broke the kiss and looked down at me, her fingers moving slowly inside me, stretching me.

"See?" she murmured, her voice a low command. "You can take it."

Then her mouth was on me. Holy shit. There was no teasing, no gentle build-up. It was like she knew exactly what I needed. Her tongue was firm and direct, pressing and circling with this incredible focus while her fingers moved in and out of me in a perfect, maddening rhythm. My hips started bucking off the mat, trying to chase the feeling, but she just put her free hand on my stomach, holding me down. Pinning me.

"Stay still," she ordered, her voice muffled against my skin. "Let me."

I tried to obey, I really did, but my body wasn't listening to me anymore. A wild moan tore out of my throat. It didn't even sound like me. She didn't stop. She just changed the pressure of her tongue, lapping at me, sucking my clit into her mouth until my vision started to go blurry at the edges. Her fingers went deeper, curling up inside me, hitting a spot that made my back arch so hard I thought I might snap.

That was it. I was gone.

My orgasm was a fucking electric shock that slammed through my entire body. I cried out and my whole body convulsed. It went on and on, this deep release that she was just pulling out of me with her hands and her mouth. She didn't stop until the last tremor had faded, leaving me completely and utterly spent, my limbs shaking.

When I could finally breathe again, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling fans, my whole body humming and boneless on the mat.

She got up, grabbed a towel, and tossed it to me. "Same time next week," she said, with that same little smile. "Don't be late."

And then she unlocked the door and was gone.

So yeah. I think I have a new hobby now. And you can bet your ass I'll be at class next week. Early.