Dolly Yoga...Italian Style
Take a look at the first photo on the home page of my web site. The one where I’m I’m lying on the sand with my calves tucked under my thighs, my arms behind my head and my body stretched out SO tight. Go ahead, take a look at it closely. I’ll wait.
Okay … pretty fucking hot, huh? Hopefully you haven’t jerked off to it already, as I have a lot more to tell you about that pose which will undoubtedly lead to that outcome anyway ;)
You may think I chose that shot because I want to turn you on so much that you won’t be able to stop yourself from contacting me. … a perfect position to let your imagination run wild as to how we’d fuck to a pounding round of orgasms. (Assuming you’ve got more in you than one …. I know I have dozens ….actually make that hundreds. What’s your record for orgasms in an hour? Most guys would say two, maybe three tops. I’d say for me 8-10. If it’s an all-nighter, the sky’s the limit. What can I say? I LIVE for orgasms.)
But I didn’t choose that shot for its sensuality alone. I chose it because it’s one of my favorite positions in yoga, called the “Fixed Firm Pose” or “Supta Vajrasana”.
It’s designed to strengthen and improve the flexibility of the lower spine, hips, knees and ankle joints. (In other words, PERFECT for building up those muscles that make for spine-tingling, ultra-orgasmic fucking.) I’ve mastered all the poses of Bikram Yoga (26 of them) and I must say they not only make me feel healthier but incredibly sexy.
I go to a yoga class practically every morning very early, 6 or 7 AM. There are 15 to 20 participants, usually 80% are women. Most of the guys who show up are regulars. Bikram is so challenging that it draws the toughest of guys and in some classes we even have more men than women!
Needless to say, I don’t “advertise my product” at these sessions. I’m basically a wallflower, don’t say much, keep to myself and go light on the make-up. Bikram yoga requires you to wear as little as possible (due to the extreme heat in the studio and the fact that you are constantly sweating). However, my long athletic legs, bubble butt and rock hard abs may draw some attention from the male and more often female yoga students. The truth is I’m so into the workout and so focused I rarely even think about any sexual fantasies in the session. Until, that is, Antonio came along.
I remember vividly the first time I saw him. A PERFECT, and I do mean PERFECT body, probably around 40, with that amazing sexy Italian look that drives women wild. When he walked in, he casually took a place on the floor right in front of me (I doubt purposefully, but who knows.) WHAT A FUCKING VIEW I HAD. He had done Bikram yoga before, knew all the positions, and when he would strike a pose that put his drop-dead-good-lucks, tight ass and legs right in front of me … well, I have to admit, my mind DID wander.
Antonio came to the sessions everyday for about three weeks. And before the sessions, we began to talk … nothing provocative, just about yoga. I didn’t even know what he did for a living (and frankly I didn’t care.) If you’ve read some of my other blogs, you know how sometimes I set TFS’s (targets for seduction) and Antonio was rapidly becoming a PRIME target.
But then he suddenly disappeared. He was not showing up, and I thought, “Damn! I should have moved more quickly.” This guy could have been the fuck of a lifetime! I admit I do like an international variety, in the same way I like food. And I hadn’t “eaten” great Italian in quite a while so I was definitely up for it. (And a great Italian hadn’t eaten me either.) But he disappeared.
I went back to my “wallflower” state for the next couple weeks, figuring I’d never see him again, when to my amazement one morning THERE HE WAS when I walked in the door. I smiled and said, “Welcome back! Where have you been?” He told me he had some modeling assignments overseas and was only here for another week before he needed to leave again. “A male model,” I thought. “Hmmmm ….that obviously makes sense in terms of his looks, but male models are often gay.” Maybe I was wasting time and energy making him a TFS. I needed to test the waters.
The “litmus test” for me as to finding out whether a great looking guy is gay or not is pretty simple. I somehow find a way to strip down a bit in the guy’s view and look at his crotch. If I see growth in the S&P (shorts and penis, not the stock market), I know there’s potential. If not, I move on.
So the next morning, I wore my very simple sweats over an extra small pair of yoga shorts and sports bra (okay, maybe a “little more” exciting than a typical sports bra ….it was low cut with just the right touch of lace around the top). I nonchalantly removed my sweats to start the session and glanced over at my litmus test zone. BINGO! This Italian may have been happy but he sure wasn’t gay. It got me wet just to see the effect my show was having on him.
But this time, I made sure to take a mat position directly in front of HIM! He was going to get a ring-side seat to the greatest show on earth, and I am not talking about a circus. As I moved through the positions, I SO wanted to turn around facing him eye-to-eye but that just wasn’t the protocol. But then, when it was time for the “Fixed Firm Pose,” it enabled me to look back at him WHILE I was in the position.
How do I put this? I was in the correct pose, though with my head bent up for a moment looking backwards (instead of chin down looking towards my chest) and saw he was not even attempting to lay back. He was just literally staring at me. When his eyes caught mine, I merely smiled that “Fuck me” smile I love to flash at just the right moment. I think he might have been embarrassed to be “caught looking” and quickly averted his eyes. It was at that moment I knew I was on an FA mission (Fuck Antonio) before he left for another modeling gig. My craving for Italian was off the charts. But how could I pull this off?
As you can tell with me, the “hunt” is as exciting as “the kill”. I tried to figure out a strategy. Maybe I could ask him to come to a session early or stay late to help me with a pose or two. No … too obvious. Plus who knows who might walk through the door at any time.
So I cased the joint … went to a session early one morning to see where other doors from our yoga room led. One was a tiny storage closet, filled with rolled-up mats and boxes of coconut water. That wouldn’t work. Another was a janitorial closet, filled with cleaning supplies. Forget that. But then … I opened a door to what I can only say made my heart rate jump. It was a small room with a single bed inside. UNFUCKING BELIEVABLE.
There was some clothing hanging on hooks in the room, so it must have been a room where the owner of the studio or one of the instructors was able to rest between sessions. There was also a small cabinet in the room. And when I opened the top drawer, I felt like Dorothy being welcomed to the Land of Oz. Inside it were several types of massage oil. I wouldn’t even have to bring my own lube! This is the kind of thing fantasies are made of. And for whatever reason, this really does happen to me. There is no doubt I have found my niche in life. Or my niche has found me!
So my “plan of attack” immediately became obvious. All I needed to do was get Antonio into this room, lock the door and hope to God he wasn’t a screamer. Frankly, I’m a screamer myself, but I figured this was definitely a risk worth taking. (Come on, doesn’t the risk of being caught always add that certain “something” to great sex?)
There was no way I was going to get away with this BEFORE a class because my Italian stallion always arrived just before the session would start. So I made a plan. The next morning when he and I both arrived, we exchanged the usual pleasantries (only this time I opted for a definitely less “demure” workout outfit, pretty much leaving nothing to the imagination.) I set the trap wearing my favorite tiny black swim thong and micro bikini top. (Doing Bikram in swimsuits is acceptable as long as you are covered up.) I didn’t even care what the instructor or other girls would think. If they commented on the outfit, I’d just say I had a photo shoot later (which actually would have been true ….those multiple shots you see on my site don’t happen by accident.)
Everything proceeded as “normal” during the session, to the point where we all were sweating profusely and ready for the class to be over. But this time, when we were on the last move of the class, Spinal Twist, I cried out in pain and fell to the floor, holding my back. The instructor ran over to me, asking me if I was okay. Putting on an Academy Award winning performance, I said, “My back! Something felt like it just tore in my back!” I lay there quietly while everyone finished the final breathing exercise and shavasana. Everyone in the room was concerned for me, but the instructor them all to leave. To my delight (and frankly my prediction) Antonio remained to make sure I was alright.
I then slowly pretended to struggle to my feet and asked Antonio if he’d help me up. He wrapped one of those great, strong arms around me, and I asked the instructor, “Is there anywhere I can just lie down for a few moments. Hopefully it’s just some sort of spasm and will go away.” “Sure!” he said and asked Antonio, “can you help her over here?” He pointed to THE DOOR of the tiny bedroom. “We take naps here sometimes during the day. You can rest here for now.” I literally fell onto the bed on my back and thanked them both. “Do you want me to call 911? “ the instructor asked. “No,” I said. “Thank you. If you don’t mind letting me rest here for a short while I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
I knew the instructor had a second class right after mine, so I said, “Go ahead. I know you have another class waiting. Antonio, if you don’t mind, could you please fill my water bottle? And please close the door. I don’t want to disturb anyone in the studio.” The plan was working PERFECTLY. When they closed the door and Antonio went to get the water, I quickly stripped naked, grabbed a squeeze of oil from the drawer to rub over my body and just lay there … the trap set to catch the Italian when he returned. Then, “Damn! I almost forgot!” I reached into my bag, pulled out a couple condoms and tossed them into the drawer. (Honestly, as I write this, it’s hard for me to believe I actually tried to pull off this caper. But what can I say. When you crave good Italian ….”)
Suddenly the door opened and Antonio gasped when he saw me, dropping my water bottle. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. I did not mean to disturb you. Here’s your water. I’ll leave now. I hope you feel better quickly.” “Antonio,” I said, “No. Close the door. Do you mind staying with me for just a few moments?”
I could tell he was torn between “should I or shouldn’t I” as he saw the next class starting to enter the larger adjoining room. But he DID close the door. “Lock it,” I said. “Come over here.” He flipped the lock and stood by the bed. I placed his hand directly on my pussy, which was getting wetter by the second, and thought his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. Then I placed my hand directly on his crotch, which was obviously showing the effect I intended. This Italian was HUNG baby. I always did like Italian sausage and this was one I was particularly going to enjoy tasting. I looked Antonio in the eye and said, “While we listen to the students in the next yoga class go through their moves, we’re going to do our own set of moves … but naked on top of each other. What do you think?”
His reaction was hilarious. Whatever reluctance might have been in his mind a few minutes ago now flew out the window. I never saw a man get naked so fast. And when that Italian cock burst into view, all I could think was, “Hallelujah! TFS locked in on the radar!!! I dropped to the floor in a Bikram camel pose and began teasing and sucking that beautiful Italian cock. OH MY GOD it tasted SO FUCKING GOOD! There is just something about starting a hot sex session with a bareback blowjob that just sets the right tone of “what’s to come.” (It also does wonders to make sure that cock is REALLY ready when it’s time to take the plunge into my pussy.)
As I continued to devour Antonio’s sausage, I looked into his eyes and said, “We’ll be able to hear the instructor through the door calling out poses. But here, I’m going to be the “instructor” and call them out for us. Got it?”
He just smiled (a gorgeous, devilish Italian smile) and said, “I think I’m going to like this form of yoga.” I laughed because I knew what was ahead and he didn’t. “Yes, you’re definitely going to like it, but first, let’s get equipped.” I opened the drawer and grabbed a condom. Again, his eyes popped out of his head. “Shall I do the honors or you?” He quickly grabbed it out of my hands and stretched it … and I do mean STRETCHED it over that glorious cock.
And so our private version of “Dolly yoga” began.
“I’m going to do a standing separate leg stretch. You just do whatever comes naturally.” Now you can look up these poses yourself on the web, but this one involves me basically moving into position where my head is on the floor and my ass is in the air, right at his standing crotch level. I think you see where I’m going here. As soon as I hit the pose, it was PERFECT for doggie style fucking. And … what can I say … he was a quick learner. I could feel his now rock-hard cock touching the lips of my pussy, and I gave him some nasty talk to “enhance the experience.” “Oh my God Antonio, do you think it will fit?” That’s all he needed to slowly work it into me, deeper, deeper and deeper. HOLY FUCK! I knew this was going to be a wild ride but I had NO IDEA how big he really was until he was inside me. It was all I could do not to scream at the top of my lungs, which I’m sure would have brought the instructor running into the room.
I think I might change the name of that position from “standing separate leg stretch” to FUCK THE DOG! DAMN he felt amazing. He started pumping faster and faster … and juices starting flowing out of me like a sprinkler head. I was breaking into a heavy sweat and needed to change position just to avoid coming so hard that I might break something in the room!
“Okay, Antonio. Lie down on the bed. I’m moving into a “Malasana/Squatting” pose. That was “yoga talk” for “I’m now going to ride you like an Asian cowgirl, baby.” I positioned myself right above his cock that was literally pointed to the ceiling like a fleshy skyscraper and started to lower my pussy on top of it. This time it was Antonio who screamed out … something in Italian that must have been along the lines of “It’s a miracle! Your back is cured!” (Kidding … he really did yell something in Italian but I have no idea what he said and didn’t care either.) Riding this animal named Antonio, I felt like a rodeo champion. He was a bucking bronco, and I was hanging with him stride for stride.
“Okay, okay I said breathlessly. “Now let’s go for … Dead Body Pose!” I slipped underneath him in that exact body position, which was actually PERFECT for a great missionary fuck. (Okay, I had to part my legs farther than a dead body would, so let’s call it “Dead Body Leg Spread Pose!”) Antonio howled with laughter (he was REALLY getting into this … and into ME for that matter. He clearly got the message and plunged that cock into me so deep I felt like I was IN Italy. Actually, Italy was IN ME and DAMN it felt good. This guy was SO hot. I couldn’t believe I even considered the possibility he might be gay. If he was gay, I was a virgin. Nuff said there.
“Cobra Pose!” I suddenly yelled out. And now Antonio was TOTALLY getting the idea. Still in a basic missionary position, he arched his head and back so he could dive even deeper inside me. This time I just couldn’t hold back. I SCREAMED SO LOUD there was a knock at the door. “Are you okay in there?” the instructor called through the door. “YES! THANK YOU”, I said. “I just had a momentary spasm!” (Actually it was an orgasm but I didn’t think it appropriate to yell that through the door.)
I could tell by the sweat pouring off Antonio that it wouldn’t be long before this Italian sausage was ready to be removed from the grill. And the LAST thing in the world I wanted was to miss the action of his own hot juices exploding. (You know how sausages get on the grill when their casings just split open and the juices run out?)
So then, and ONLY then, did I go into my favorite pose … the one featured on the home page of my website. I quickly grabbed my ankles, wrapped my calves under my thighs, tiled my head back, ripped off his condom and yelled, “Fixed Firm Pose.” If you’ve studied that pose, you obviously realize that it is PERFECT to deliver an AMAZING blow job from below. Antonio plunged his cock into my mouth, and I slaughed and and licked and tickled and bit like an animal in heat (actually I WAS an animal in heat at that point.)
And within seconds … well … the Italian dam burst … and HOLY SHIT. My face was covered in cum. Either he hadn’t had sex in months or he was carrying a backup tank inside, because he literally came TWICE … BIG TIME ….within one minute. I had NEVER seen that before. It felt INCREDIBLE. And I have no idea why I said this, but I did. “Lick it off my face! Please!”
Now there’s a definition of HOT when it comes to sex, but this was literally SO HOT it was surreal. He began licking. I began licking. We began kissing, swapping cum all over the place and literally collapsing in exhaustion on the yoga instructor’s bed.
I’ve had some scorching hot sex in my lifetime, but this DEFINITELY ranks at the top. By this time, fortunately for us, the other class outside the door ended. Antonio, realizing the instructor could walk in at any moment to see WHAT THE FUCK was going on, quickly got dressed, cracked the door open, and upon seeing no one in the room, glanced back at me with a MONSTROUS smile and said, “I’ll be back in a WEEK! Thank you SO MUCH. Your American yoga is AMAZING. I like it much better than the other kind.”
As he ran out the door, I howled to myself. “Did he think this was some form of traditional American yoga?” Ha! If he did, I pity any female yoga instructor he might find in some other U.S. city.
I then quickly got dressed myself (trying to remove the cum off my face the best I could) and left the room to find the yoga instructor working out by himself in a corner of his studio
“Ah,” he said, “you look much better. I am very happy for you. I see you are still sweating. So maybe the yoga itself helped you ease your pain?” “Yes,” I laughed, “I honestly have a whole new appreciation of what yoga can do to improve my well being.”
I don’t know why but I went home that day and had a craving for an Italian sausage sandwich for lunch. And I have to admit, it was fucking delicious.
Purely fictional fantasy for your reading pleasure.