A/N: Thank you to my beta, TwilightMundi. Not only did she help pretty up my doc, she helped with yoga knowledge, which I am sorely lacking in. Also, thanks to algonquinrt for additional yoga information and for planting the idea of Yogasper in my head in the first place.

Of course, hugs and sloppy kisses to Nina for allowing me the privilege of writing another Smut Monday piece.

Please note: there is discussion of yoga poses here, and links at the bottom to positions and a video. It should go without saying, but I'm saying it anyway: this is not instructional in any way. Don't try things you don't know enough about. Seek a qualified professional should you wish to study yoga.

All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

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The first time Jasper came into my studio, he was paunchy and had a bad attitude.

The contrast between overworked, stressed out, single-dad Jasper, and the long, lean, peaceful, muscled man he'd become over the last few months was stark. He began in a group class for beginners, but soon signed up for one-on-one private lessons.

I'd been divorced from James for three years, which was one year less than we'd been married. It wasn't that either of us found the other so insufferable – no, it was much worse than that. We simply didn't have that attraction and magnetism required to maintain a relationship for any great length of time. If we were already down to sex once every six months at year two, what would year ten look like? I should have listened when my parents told me I was getting married too young.

Jasper told me once that he began coming here to escape his real life. Sixty minutes of glorious peace and quiet, five days a week, he said.

Realizing early on that his ex was completely unreliable when it came to caring for his child, he used a part-time nanny when he came to see me. Once, he called to cancel because she flaked on him. He was frantic over the phone and I could hear Jasper's need to relax. I did what any single woman in my position would have done: I reassured him and told him to bring his kid along. Watching them interact was a special treat, and I appreciated the vulnerability in Jasper that session. I even suggested a children's class for his son; he was old enough and certainly seemed stressed enough to benefit from it.

The hour I spent with Jasper each weekday was like a salve to my cliché divorced heart. There was hardly a second he was around that I didn't feel sparks reverberating through my body. I began to sweat as he did, imagining my own lithe body beneath his. In my mind's eye, we worked together in tandem, slowly bringing each other to new sexual heights.

I had seen his gut hang out during warrior pose (in those early days when he had one); he had no doubt seen my ass close-up during a demonstration of downward dog during those intro classes. Physically, we were on display for each other nearly every moment we were together.

I wanted Jasper, and I was pretty sure he wanted me, too. He'd begun sending me little texts throughout the day, bordering on the edge of flirty. Yes, he had my cell phone number. Don't judge, you'd have given it, too.

This morning I got a text about how sore he was from practicing handstand pose last night in our session. Of course I texted him back to let him know I was going to be even harder on him tonight. Too bad I wanted him to be the hard one.

I slog through my classes, then retreat to my office to reply to a few email inquiries. I have a view of the street from my chair, but somehow miss Jasper walking into the studio. Only when I hear him give a light chuckle at the entrance to my office do I notice him. As I take in his appearance, I suck in an extra-deep breath. He's got on dark, loose-fitting pants that I can see are tied with a drawstring. I giggle a little inside as I will my eyes to look somewhere other than the chiseled ab muscles I know are beneath there. His v-neck tee is loose around his midsection, but snug around his chest and arms – muscle built from months of practice with me. He's almost mastered handstand and I have a good feeling about our session tonight.

"What are you doing in here to be so distracted, Miss Alice?"

His voice is light and teasing and much to my dismay, I blush automatically. That dimple on the side of his mouth calls to me, begs me to lick and bite it.

"Excuse me, Sir, I don't know what you're implying about my character, but I use the internet for far more innocent deeds than you think."

I'm still sitting in my chair, although I've turned my body slightly to look at him without straining my neck.

"That's a shame," he says with a wink as he walks out to the large mirror-lined room.

Jesus fuck.

I hear the light slap and shuffle of the mat being shifted on the ground. Grabbing my water bottle, I head out for Jasper's lesson. We've found a groove and he knows the basic warm-up routine well enough that he does this part on his own, usually. He's running through his shoulder lifts and I setup a mat opposite his. One of his eyebrows lifts in question at me.

"Do you mind? I haven't had a chance today."

"Of course not. It's always a pleasure to watch your body work."

I laugh and shake my head, finding my own zone to loosen and flex my muscles to prepare for the movements. As Jasper and I shift through a few poses, I sneak glances his way. There's something distinctly different about his mood and attitude today, but I can't quite pinpoint what it is.

My muscles begin to let go and I realize we're halfway into our hour. I feel exponentially better than I did thirty minutes ago, so I stand and begin to watch and guide Jasper more closely.

Standing behind him to watch his form as he shifts from crane to handstand, my hand reaches out to rest on the curve of his lower back. His breathing is even and regular, and I can see the lines of his arms as his weight redistributes. When he's finally in a full handstand and seems stable, I step away. I admire him, his body, the way he's learned to master and manipulate it, but more than that? I admire his fortitude. Instead of wallowing in the less-than-ideal circumstances of his life, he's turned things around and done something positive for himself.

Speaking softly, I want to offer my praise but not startle him. "Very well done, Jasper."

His ribs contract and expand one last time before he begins to move his body again. His feet meet the mat and I watch his toes splay slightly. As he stands, he breaks from our usual calm and peaceful mood and claps loudly. His excitement is contagious and I smile at him.

"You took my view away, though," he teases.

Jasper is looking right at me, through me it feels like. I'm ready to test the waters and see just how serious this flirty Jasper is. I've had enough teasing, I need more.

Stripping my t-shirt off, I'm left in loose-fitting black pants and a sports bra. Sure, I'm not the most endowed woman on top, but I love my breasts. They're small and sensitive, and I realize as I'm thinking about how much I like them, they're already reacting to the thought of Jasper's touch.

Taking a deep breath to regain my composure, his scent hits me and I'm intoxicated. Plenty of people have sweat in this room, at least forty today alone. None of them radiates the sex and sensuality of Jasper.

He's standing at the edge of his mat, waiting. I can't figure out why I'm suddenly nervous, but I try as hard as I can to let it go as I sit and bring my feet together in cobbler's pose. Instead of leaning forward, I lean back and flex my hips slightly. I can feel the muscles stretching and as he watches me, I'm getting more and more turned on. I'm guessing he feels the same as he's taken to sitting on his mat, hands folded in his lap. Classic hiding-the-erection pose.

I need a moment, my nerves still getting the better of me, so I shift my body into child's pose, hugging my knees close to my chest. Resting my head, I think about what I want. What I need, versus my fantasies. A spot on my cloth-covered lower back feels hot, warmth spreading across my skin, and I wonder if I've damaged a muscle. The heat moves, up to my bare skin, and I realize it's Jasper's hand.

"Alice."

Just my name from his mouth reassures me. It sends tingles through my body and I shiver. I'm no longer frozen in place, sitting up to face him. I'm sure my eyes are wide, confused. This isn't at all how I've imagined things happening between Jasper and me. I thought maybe he'd eventually ask me out, we'd get some drinks, he'd discover all my silly neuroses and we'd call it a night.

Instead, as I look at him, he takes my face in his hands. He sits with his knees touching mine and continues to touch and caress my face. The second time his thumb skims my lips, I part them and lick his skin softly.

As his hands leave my face and travel down my ribs to my waist, I wonder how far he's going to take this. He wraps his fingers around my trim waist and grips, pulling my body on top of his. My legs wrap around his waist and I pull us tighter, closer.

"Are you sure?"

It's my turn to trace his facial features. I don't even bother with a verbal reply, I just lean in and kiss him. Finally, his lips are between mine. I'm suddenly thankful we spent all that time in the beginning of his classes mastering breathing techniques, as I have no immediate plans to pull away from his delicious lips.

My hips are rocking and rolling into his, I realize as I hear him moan softly. His hands reach out to still them and I move my mouth faster, taking out my frustration at being stilled. It's a slow build, a slow burn, to match what has been a months-long seduction of each other.

Jasper's fingers rise to my chest, thumbs sweeping across my nipples, and my mouth breaks from his to gasp. The thick material of my sports bra doesn't dampen the intensity of his touch at all, and I drag my hips across his again. His fingers hook under the bottom and pull the clingy material from my body. The half-second I have to be self-conscious is quickly eclipsed when his mouth comes down to wrap around one of my nipples. His tongue is licking as his lips create a vacuum and I'm lost. Found? I don't even know, I just know that I never want this feeling to end.

As his hand touches and teases the other side, my own go to the drawstring on his pants. Once it's undone, my hands dip beneath the waistband. He groans against my body and I realize that I'm literally aching for him. My whole lower body feels like it's pulsing, need and desire fueling my ache.

Pushing his pants down his hips, I can only uncover a fraction of what I really want, but I'm thankful for the little bit at the moment. I skim my hands over his lower back, then around to the front of his body. I don't take him immediately in my grip, but I tease, fingertips ghosting all around – touching his thighs, lightly over the thin skin of his base, tickling as I circle around.

My abdominal muscles tighten as his hands move lower. My pants are elastic at the top and he slides them down with ease, cupping my bare ass. He moves lower and I can feel the tips of his fingers skim the outside of my lips. The moan that comes out is undignified and certainly unladylike.

Our mouths are near, but we're not kissing. We're sharing the same air, breathing together, figuring out how to make our bodies work the same way. Jasper lets go of me and his hips flex up. He's deliberate and slow as he pulls his pants as far as he can. Of course, I'm on his lap so it isn't much, but it's enough. Watching him move, lifting his hips with me as if my weight is nothing above him, just reminds me of his strength and mastery of his body.

I can feel his knees behind me, pulled up against my back. He drags a hand down each of my legs and moves them so they are no longer wrapped around him, but a foot is on each side of his body, flat on the floor. Reaching again for my pants, I lift my hips this time, then bring my legs together, allowing him to remove them completely. I return to my position with my feet outside his body and I know this is without a doubt the most vulnerable I've ever been with anyone.

There's no empty, premature confession of love. Just two words are spoken from his plump lips before we begin to move together: thank you.

He flexes his thighs, forcing me to lift, and positions himself against my body. Instead of letting me sink down onto him, like I expect, he holds me there. His hands reach to touch me and my head falls back against his legs. I really want to watch what he's doing, but I can't fight it as my eyes close. I keep my breathing even and steady, but each inhale and exhale feels deeper than the previous.

Jasper's fingers play me like an expert, making circles, teasing, rubbing. Just as I'm on the cusp of an orgasm, I feel his muscles let go slowly and he enters me. His fingers are still working my body, and I am powerless to do anything but relax and enjoy the ride.

He's unmoving beneath me as I come. I'm sure he's breathing, but the only movement from him I'm aware of are his hands. He moves them up my hips when I've stilled, and he begins to flex and relax his hips, moving painstakingly slowly inside me.

I open my eyes just as he rolls his body up. His arms wrap around my upper body and I realize he's taken his shirt off as our bare chests warm each other. His legs fall flat beneath my body and he's begun squeezing his thighs together to lift and lower me. I've never had sex, fucked, made love with someone – whatever you want to call it – at this leisurely of a pace. I had a few lovers after James, but no one that seemed to savor the experience like Jasper and I were. It always felt like a race to the finish line, but this is sensual in a way I'd only ever read about.

Jasper's teeth scrape gently at my shoulder and my head instinctively tilts to his. "Watch," he says. "Watch us as we move. Watch your body. Watch what you do to mine."

Pressing my lips to his neck, I bring my eyes up to the mirrors. I'm afraid of what I'll see, although I'm not sure why. When my eyes finally see us, though, it's fucking amazing. I can see the sculpted muscles of his back as he flexes and pushes into me. Watching his whole body work together with mine is overwhelming. I can see the top of his ass, and each time he moves, the muscles constrict and I realize he's putting a great deal of effort into what we're doing.

"Fuck."

It's all I can say, all I'm capable of thinking. The fingers on his left hand fall between us and he's touching me again. This isn't like the first time; this is even slower, driving me even more insane. Even though he's slowed his pace, it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for me to be panting and making a fool of myself. Just as I'm reaching inside for the strength to shut the fuck up, Jasper gently bites my shoulder and I can feel the rumbling growl leave his chest.

His hand becomes frantic and I climax around him. My hips are arched, pressed against him tightly. He thrusts deeper somehow, shifting my hips to change the angle maybe, and I whimper. Jasper's hand is relentless against me, bringing me down and then back up to another orgasm just as fast. He's no longer in control of either of us; my hips are arching against his and I just want to keep coming for as long as I can.

I notice him kissing me softly, my shoulders, my neck, up to my ear. His hand has stilled, both of our bodies pressed against each other and slowly recovering. My arms tighten around him and my nose is buried in his neck. I'm afraid again. Afraid that if I move, if we speak, all of this will disappear. God, if this is a dream, please don't let me wake up. Jasper laughs beneath me and I realize I've actually spoken out loud when he quietly replies.

"It's not a dream, I promise."