My Yoga Instructor Bends Me In Half

When my usual yoga instructor apologized profusely and informed me she would have to send a replacement for our solo Tuesday session I waved her off saying I didn’t really mind.

Now I’m actually eager for my upcoming yoga class.

The replacement instructor is going to be a man. I’m a little curious to see how it will feel to be guided into new forms, pressed lower into demanding stretches, encouraged to try harder… all by a man I don’t know.

There’s a knock and I jump to my feet. I open the door and my breath catches for a moment before I stumble over the greetings and invite the man, Declan as he introduced himself, in. My new instructor is absolutely gorgeous.

A t-shirt hugs his chest tightly, highlighting his strong physique. He wears jogging shorts which means I have a perfect view of his muscular thighs and defined calves. My mind is running away from me, imagining what he looks under all that clothing.

Oh, boy. This yoga class is going to be a trial.

I prepared a space in my living room and the yoga mat beforehand so after a brief discussion about what I wanted to focus on in today’s training we promptly start the exercises. At first it’s not that bad as we begin with simple standing poses to stretch out. Mountain salute flows into a forward bend easily as Jerry puts on soothing music and reminds me to breathe properly. He joins me and we perform different standing poses side by side or in front of each other as he assesses my skill and gives me pointers how to improve my posture and balance.

It’s when he starts demonstrating for me that I begin having trouble. He performs a few poses for me to let me choose which one I would like to try to learn. Each of them shows his ass beautifully, highlighting his feats of near inhuman grace. I would be eager to challenge myself but I am very, very distracted, especially when beads of sweat start to appear on his skin as he holds an advanced pose and talks to me all the while like it’s nothing.

I pick the Dove pose and kneel down on the mat then bend back until my palms lay flat on the floor. Or at least I try. I can’t quite manage it yet and Declan comes to my rescue, talking me through what I can improve and pushing my body to contort further. His hands on my skin make me blush and I felt like the whole blood in my body goes to my head as it hangs low, granting me an upside-down view of my dreamy instructor.

“Hold it just a while longer,” he says in that low tone and I brace myself, my muscles starting to tremble from the strain.

After another minute he helps me go up from the position and I stumble forward, smushing my face straight into his chest.

“I’m sorry!” I yelp, embarrassed. My hands automatically go to brace myself against his body and I look in horrified fascination as my fingers frame his pecks.

I want to squeeze them.

I make an involuntary noise of want and blush, my cheeks going scarlet as I try to take my hands away.

Two big, strong hands stop me from doing so.

“I have a feeling you would respond well to a different set of exercises,” Jerry says and a cocky smile spreads his lips.

How dare this bastard be so handsome.

“W-what kind of exercises?” I ask breathlessly.

“Hmm, I think you would look good in the Cat pose,” he says straight into my ear, talking about a position on all fours, with rounded back. “And then we could turn it into the Cow as you arch your back while I pull your hair.”

“O-oh,” I whimper. I give in and squeeze his pecs; it looks like we are on the same page. “Aren’t those poses too simple? Too easy? Don’t you want to test my flexibility?” I challenge.

“Who said we would stop at those? Having you on all fours for me is only the start,” he grins at me in a predatory manner.

He turns me around, then pushes me down onto the mat. I know what is expected of me. I start with the Cat pose, keeping my knees and hands aligned as I prop myself on them, tucking my chin in the direction of my chest and rounding my back like a bristling cat would. Declan plops down behind me and promptly pushes my training shorts and panties down. I give a squeak of surprise but don’t try to move away. I’m rewarded with his hands brazenly exploring my intimate places. He cups the mound of my pussy in his hand, providing friction between my legs, making the wetness that was steadily gathering in my cunt leak out, my wetness dirtying his fingers. It’s hard to keep the position when I’m distracted like this so I try to ease it a little.

“Bad kitty,” Declan gives me a warning slap, making me moan.

I take a shaky breath in and round my back again.

“Good, that’s it.”

Fingers delve between the lips of my pussy as Declan coos at me. He goes straight for my clit and starts to torment it with fast flicks while his other hand goes into my hair, grabbing my ponytail securely, and pulling my head back until I fully transition into the Cow pose, my back bent the opposite way now. My back muscles tremble with the strain and my scalp hurts when my hair is yanked like that but the slight pain courses through my body in the most delicious way, making me oversensitive, like every one of my nerve endings is on fire. I have always enjoyed a good workout and I admit I do relish a dose of pain. The way I gasp and moan, sounds leaving my mouth unbidden, leaves no question that I’m enjoying being literally put in my place while Declan get me closer, and closer to my orgasm.

He uses my hair to yank me down again, demanding the Cat pose from me once more, then returns me to the Cow, cycling between the poses, treating me like a doll as I try not to shake.

“Don’t forget to breathe properly,” my instructor mock-scolds and I laugh.

My laugh turns into a high-pitched whimper as his fingers finally plunge inside my pussy, setting a hard rhythm that steals all the breath from my lungs, making any breathing exercises an impossibility.

“It’s important to relax your mind and body,” Declan imparts his wisdom and I take it as permission to come.

He pulls at my ponytail as I do, and the almost-scream I give as I shake apart goes to the heavens, my mouth hanging open and slack, my body trembling, my erect nipples chaffing against the fabric of my shirt when I squirm in Declan’s grip.

Finally, he lets my head down and I weakly try to move my spine into the second position, already trained by him, but he stops he with a laugh and indulgently runs a hand down my spine, petting me, and letting me catch my breath.

“I think that’s enough of those two poses. Let’s try something else when I fuck you.”

He rolls me on my back and takes my legs in his hands. I end up spread open for his gaze, as he stares at my pussy for a moment, just taking in the sight, as my face grows progressively redder. Somewhere along the way he has shimmied out of his shorts and briefs and his cock hangs heavy between his legs. It gives a little twitch as Declan starts to push my legs towards my head, trying to fold my body in half.

“Let’s see how bendy you are. Just a little more…” he presses down until my knees nearly touch the floor besides my head.

“Hmm, not quite there. Do you think I can make you do it? Make your body so pliable I will be able to fold you in half? Let’s see, shall we?”

He doesn’t move to fuck me silly so I blink my hazy eyes at him. Oh, he is waiting for my response. My tongue darts out to lick my lips. I cannot wait to have his big cock in me. And if I have to perform feats of athleticism to get it… so be it.

To tell the truth the manhandling is incredibly hot and my pussy throbs with want every time Declan takes charge of my body.

I nod, then follow it with eager words.

“Yes, please, whatever you want,” I groan like a whore.

“Good girl. Now, hold your legs.”

I suck in a sharp breath as he guides my hands to take hold under my own knees while he guides his throbbing dick into my tight pussy. For me that first moment, the first breach of my opening stretching to accommodate a cockhead is always almost a religious experience. The pressure and the inevitability of what’s going to follow makes my blood boil and desire rises in me like a tidal wave. Declan presses into me slowly, taking him time, savoring the feeling. Slow, so slow.

Until it’s not.

He slams into me the rest of the way and I spasm around his shaft splitting me open, my mouth open in a cry. Fingers dig into my legs and only after a while I realize it’s my own digits holding my flesh too tight, making finger-shaped bruises bloom on my fair skin.

“Fuck!” I pant out, already dizzy as Declan starts rolling his hips into me unhurriedly.

There’s a rhythm to it that I can’t quite place. Then I notice how he pulls the air into his lungs, keeping it in before exhaling slowly, all in a steady pattern that I know.

This bastard is doing breathing exercises while fucking me!

He notices my look of outrage, grins at me and dares to command:

“Breathe with me.”

I whimper but copy what he is doing.

Breathe in. Fill your lungs. His cock thrusts leisurely into me.

Hold your breath. His cock stays deep within me, unmoving.

Exhale. Let the air out of your lungs. His cock leaves me, dragging along the walls of my pussy as he pulls it out completely.

When he repeats the process I have to fight to not let my breath hitch and my moans spill out, disrupting the synchronization between us.

The slow pace is a torture but one that I crave, that keeps making me even wetter with every measured invasion into my body. Declan is controlling everything about me now; my movement, my pleasure, my breathing.

I let myself get lost in this sensation. My mind starts floating, granting me the feeling I can sometimes reach during meditation. Calm, focused inward; a serenity of mind mixed with the bliss of my body. I stay like that, open, and trusting under Declan’s hands. Time ceases to exist. I don’t know how many minutes or hours pass until his movements start to pick up, thrusts getting harder, faster, more desperate, jolting me out of my reverie.

Only then I notice that Declan is talking.

“That’s it, sweetheart, ah, fuck, j-just like that. See? I knew you could do it.”

My knees are pressed on both sides of my head, touching the floor. Declan really did manage to fold me in half, my body so loose and relaxed it yielded the last needed inches under his sure hands.

“Kiss me!” I plead urgently, like the world would end if he doesn’t grant me my wish.

He leans forward, putting all his weight on me, squishing me that little bit more, letting me savor the trapped position of my body, how my muscles tremble under him as he kisses me with wild severity, his hips plummeting into me with veracious hunger.

“I-I’m going to — “ I gasp out but he takes my breath away once more, sealing my lips with his, licking into my mouth, stealing my moans, eating them up as I tense around him, pinned to the floor like a butterfly.

I give a muffled cry as he fills me with his hot come just before I shudder into my own orgasm. I let go of my legs and clutch at his back instead, holding onto him for dear life as waves of pleasure completely wreck me. My fingers dig red lines into the planes of his back as I writhe under him, nearly incapable of any movement he doesn’t allow.

We share shuddering breaths for minutes after, quietly disentangling our minds before we can separate our bodies.

“That was quite a workout,” I finally say as he helps me to get my body back to right, slowly stretching my limbs and massaging them to get the blood flow going.

“Ah, I hope I didn’t go too hard on you,” Declan says sheepishly and kisses my hand. “Let me pamper you a bit. How does a massage and a hot bath sound?

I hum appreciatively and say:

“Like an absolute nirvana.”

***

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