Y'all make this fuuuun!
chapter three
taste
I'm at the front desk with the new guy, Eric, when Edward walks into the yoga studio.
The sight of him makes me weak, and I fight a smile.
"Do you know how many yoga studios I've been to in the last two weeks?"
It's the first thing he says to me, and I almost laugh at how similar it is to my initial text to him. Only in the sense that we never greet one another and just pick up where we left off.
"No, I don't. How many?" I ask.
"Too many. I looked insane."
"Oh, no, I'm sure you seemed very normal storming in," I tease, noting the gold band still on his left hand.
Eric looks confused but is new and eager, so he jumps to right this wrong.
I, on the other hand, am highly turned on by Edward's persistence and not eager to fix anything.
"So sorry, sir. Do you have a membership with us? I can look up your name in our system," Eric offers.
Edward keeps his eyes on me while he speaks to Eric. "I don't have a membership. But I do want to sign up for some classes."
Eric types on the computer. "Okay, we have—"
"I want to join her classes."
"Sorry, they're full," I chime in.
It's not a lie. I have a YouTube channel with six million subscribers, and my classes are booked for the rest of the year. If he had Googled me, he would have found my channel, but he wouldn't have seen me tied to this studio. The following I've gained over the years are loyal, but there are a few occasional weirdos, so not advertising where I practice in person is vital. Of course, some people know I work here, but it's mostly by word of mouth or regular practicing members.
That said, I could squeeze Edward in if I wanted, but where is the fun in that?
Edward's undeterred. "I'll join a waitlist."
I playfully frown. "It's really extensive…" Also not a lie.
He tugs at the collar of his button-down. "Don't you offer one-on-one practices?"
"Ah, I could, but I don't feel like one-on-one is your thing. I think you'd much prefer group classes. Maybe some hot yoga, too. Feeling the burn. Sweating it out."
He's loving this, I can tell. His eyes are bright and delicious, and the smile playing on his lips is almost wicked.
"So…" Eric pauses, unsure what to do. "There's another instructor who—"
"I want her," Edward says firmly, pointing at me and making my stomach flip.
But I worry he's coming on too strong and will scare the new guy away.
"It's okay. I got it," I tell Eric. "Go take a break, and we'll pick up where we left off in twenty."
He accepts this idea and disappears into the staff lounge.
When it's just Edward and me, I stare him down.
"Congratulations, you found me," I say. "Unfortunately, you're a week too late."
I'm making new rules as we go, and from the look on his face, he doesn't like that.
"A week late?" he echoes, pissed.
"Yeah."
"You didn't specify a timeline."
"I didn't know I had to."
"I found you. That doesn't earn me some points?"
He did, but I'm not going to tell him that. Instead, I grab his hand and walk past two in-session classes before pulling him into an empty studio for privacy, closing the door behind us.
The room glows red, making this moment feel more intense than it needs to be.
"What is this place?" Edward asks.
"The hot yoga room."
It's preheating for a session in an hour, and though it's not yet at the highest temperature, it's still enough to make me feel on edge.
"Game over," I say.
Edward doesn't look happy, but he looks so hot and a little deadly, with the infrared glow on his dark expression.
"What the fuck does that mean?" he blurts.
"It means… this is a little too crazy for me," I admit.
"What is?"
"This." I gesture between us. "Whatever this is."
He looks irritated. I'm irritated with myself, too. Because why couldn't I just fuck Edward? Get him out of my system the way he wanted to with me?
What would it hurt? I wouldn't be doing anything morally wrong. Supposedly, his wife is okay with it and enjoys it.
Would it be that big of a deal?
Of course, it would only be once if I did give in to that desire. And I wouldn't be able to tell anyone without feeling judged. It could be only for me. Connecting and exploring sexually with a stranger and then parting ways.
I cross my arms over my chest, and his eyes dip to my sports bra.
"You told me to find you," he reminds me.
"I thought you'd just give up and go away."
He watches me. "Got it. So, to be clear, you want me to leave," he states, but I can't answer him because now that he's here, no, I don't. I must release some stupid pheromone that gives me away because he smirks. "I didn't think so."
"I understand that your wife gets off on you being with other women, but knowing you're married is a real turn-off for me, okay? And there's nothing you can do to change that, so I decided this isn't happening."
Except, I'm lying. The intrigue is still there, coiled deep in the darkest parts of my mind.
He's undeterred; I can see it in his eyes. "We had phone sex."
"And?"
"You sent me pictures."
"I hope you deleted them," I say, and he smiles too wickedly for me to believe they're gone from his phone. "What—did you show your wife?"
"Actually, no. I kept them for me."
"Is that something you're allowed to do?"
"Why do you keep saying allowed? Like I can't make my own fucking decisions?"
"Because you're married, dude. Looking at pictures of another woman and having phone sex is supposed to be wrong."
"Felt pretty right to me. I mean, didn't you like it?"
"What?"
"Getting off to my voice? Rubbing your pretty pussy while imagining it was my cock?"
He's so not playing fair, and my traitor pussy tingles. "Yes. I liked it a little too much."
He looks pleased. "So, you want this."
"I don't…" I falter. "I don't know."
"When we talked on the phone, you said if I tried hard enough last time, I could've tasted you."
"We were having phone sex. It's just stuff people say to get off."
"I don't believe that. I think you were being honest with me, and I want to taste you," he says, bold and abrupt. "That's it. You don't have to touch me... just… I need to know what you taste like."
"Wha—"
In two long strides, he's in front of me.
My back and ass press up against the wall.
His mouth brushing my ear, he whispers, "Tell me you want this. Let me eat your pussy, and I'll leave you alone."
Fucking hell.
I don't say anything. I'm nervous. But I'm also so fucking turned on by his words. My heart is racing, and I desperately ache for his mouth.
He drops to his knees.
I push my hips forward a little, giving him the okay.
Edward traces two firm fingers along my crotch. I'm wearing yoga pants, so the material is thin, and the sensation on my clit makes sparks ignite between my legs.
"Oh…" I moan. "Wait, right here?" I ask, still stunned.
"Yes."
"You're insane," I breathe, but a strange part of me wants it. A wicked part of me wants to give in to this wanton, wild feeling.
"You keep saying that." He moves his head closer and kisses me down there, over my yoga pants, and even just that minimal contact feels divine.
"Anyone could walk in."
"It's gonna feel so good, you won't even care if anyone sees."
I try to think of that—being so far gone in ecstasy that I wouldn't care if I were being watched.
I want that feeling.
To be carefree and lost in lust.
I wouldn't consider myself vanilla in the bedroom by any means, but I'm not adventurous. Rarely am I spontaneous.
So maybe I do have a dull, mediocre sex life.
But this is spicing things up.
"I don't even know you," I murmur, but his nose purposely rubs against my clit, and his mouth is kissing me over my yoga pants again. This time, I can feel his tongue flatten, and the pressure feels so, so good.
I feel myself caving.
Fast.
"Then I'll just be the stranger who gave you the best orgasm with his mouth. And then you can spend the rest of your life thinking about how good it could've been with my cock."
I want to slap him. Yank his hair. I want to rip off his clothes and let him fuck me senseless.
Instead, I laugh softly, a mixture of disbelief and amusement. This is unbelievable, but I've never been this turned on or wanted anyone more.
Whispered consent falls from my lips.
A flash of determination fills his eyes as he tugs my yoga pants down, pulling one leg completely off so I can further part my thighs and give him better access.
He doesn't tease me or waste time. He immediately presses his mouth to my pussy. He fucks me with his fingers and sucks on my clit. At one point, he grabs my leg to rest over his shoulder and replaces his fingers with his tongue to eat me deeply while he rubs me.
It's one of the most erotic, sensual, and bizarre experiences of my life.
Knowing he's married.
Knowing anyone could walk in.
Knowing I have to be quiet.
It's a rush, and I've never experienced anything like this before, and yeah, it has me thinking about what sex with him would be like.
I bite down on my knuckles as I cry out and buck against his face, coming harder and faster than I ever have.
When my legs stop shaking, and my orgasm has slowed, he helps me back into my pants and pulls them up for me, which I find oddly tender.
It's quiet between us.
Intense.
He wipes his mouth and just stares at me.
"That was… that was..." I try to catch my breath and find the words, but I come up empty.
I just let a fucking stranger go down on me at my work.
I'm slightly mortified, but not as much as I should be.
There must be something wrong with me.
There's definitely something wrong with him.
I expect Edward to beg me again to meet him, but he doesn't.
Instead, he keeps his word.
He got to taste me, and that's that.
Without a single word, he leaves.