Namaste Overload

Musa was just flipping on lights and rolling out mats when the door opened and in walked five local big shots—Lolly Dames, Caitlin Bell, Dana Vespoli, Sophia West, and Spencer Scott. He suddenly felt nervous as hell. Fail this first class and his name would get roasted all over town. Nail it and he’d be booked solid. Problem was, these women weren’t just checking the alignment of their downward dogs. When he cleared his throat to begin, hands brushed his thighs “by accident” more than once, and every backbend came with low whistles. He tried to keep the cues clinical, but five very obvious sets of nipples pushing against spandex made the words stick in his mouth. Finally Dana just crawls forward, palms his cock through the thin shorts, and announces she’d rather taste his personal truth than stretch her hamstrings. The others laugh, yank his shorts down, and the class becomes a sloppy reverse gangbang on three foam mats. Musa’s breathing hard, balls-deep in Caitlin while Sophia rides his tongue, when the door squeaks again. Nick stands there, mat under his arm, jaw dropped. The women don’t miss a beat. “More cock for us,” purrs Lolly, spreading her thighs. Nick ditches his sneakers, shoves his shorts off and drops right in, fucking straight into the center of the pile like he was born for it.