Just a Number (Downtown #1) (11 page)

“Right this way.” We followed them outside, up several steps to a cliff where a large private gazebo was perched. Beneath its cover sat two identically linen-draped tables side by side. “We’ll give you a few minutes. Please discard your robes and slip under the top layer, face down.”

Once they stepped away, we disrobed. I groaned seeing her fit body, wishing we were back in a private room. I stepped closer to her to caress her briefly when earbuds fell from her pocket. “You are not listening to your crazy music.” I shook my head.

She laughed and tucked them back inside the pocket of her robe and tossed it on a chair on top of mine. Minus our clothing, we both crawled beneath warmed sheets. Lying on beds, next to each other, we faced out to the ocean as soft instrumental music began to play in the background; not her music.

The two masseuses reentered, and took our bodies on a journey through a series of rubs and manipulations. I heard erotic sounding moans. Whimpers. Sighs. Maybe some of them were mine, but I was only focused on her. I tried to keep my eyes closed. I tried to relax, but I loved watching her. And truthfully, it didn’t matter if my eyes were open or closed, I saw her anyway. She was implanted in my brain. The massage might not have been such a great idea for me. I should have offered to give her a full body treatment myself. The thought of feeling her silky skin under my hands had my body painfully aching while lying on the table, thanks to an erection I couldn’t seem to will away.

“Relax,” I heard whispered in my ear. My masseuse obviously felt the tension built up in my body. Somehow, I think she knew my mind was filled with Willow. I imagine she could see how my girl was affecting me since I continuously lifted my head and turned it to peek at her.

Finished with our session, paper slippers were slipped on our feet and we were ushered to another gazebo with another amazing view of the sea below. Sitting in two cane chairs quietly, enjoying the serenity, we sipped some green tea before getting dressed into the yoga attire I had asked her to bring along. Another surprise.

“Did you bring those earbuds for yoga with me?” I asked as we left the cliff behind. She smiled, and I made it clear that her music was not acceptable. “No. No. No. You will be focusing on your partner.”

She wasn’t giving up, or more likely, she was teasing me. “We could share my earbuds. I’ll wear one. You the other.” I just looked at her smirking face, wordless. “I was kidding.” She nudged me with her hip as we walked along.

Changing the subject, feeling that I was about to lose control with just the mere touch of her body to mine. “Did you enjoy your rubdown?” That question didn’t help me ward off my thoughts, either. Nor did her answer, or movement.

She stretched her arms above her head, arched her back and faked a yawn. “Yes, nap time.”
Fuck!
I didn’t need her talking about anything that involved a bed.

Professional mode. Regroup. “Your body is nice and relaxed. Your muscles are loose. Perfect for yoga. I promise you a nap after.” She pouted so I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the beach where our instructors were doing a couple’s yoga demonstration before our class. The distraction was timely.

In front of a crowd of yoga students and beach-goers, the yoga couple was putting on a show of sorts; acrobatic yoga. The man lifted his female partner—a base person and a flyer—she bent, flipped around, and curved her body in the air into a series of poses.

“We are so not doing that!” Willow exclaimed at my side.

“No.” I laughed. “But I did sign us up for a basic couple’s yoga class taught by them. We can try a few simple moves at the end of the session, under their guidance. What they’re doing there is called acro-yoga.”

“It’s beautiful. So elegant. Like a sensuous dance of the body. I’d love to be able to do that. Have you done that?”

“I learned about it when I was training. It’s best if you have a partner, someone to practice with regularly. Someone you trust. Someone you’re comfortable with… relaxed with. I’m more of a power yoga guy; individual yoga.”

“Me too, but I’m fascinated.” She looked so incredibly beautiful, intently watching.

“Good. We’ll definitely give it a shot. After working through partner-enhanced-yoga, we will be ready. Helping each other stretch is very beneficial.”

When the demo was done, we followed the instructors to a room with an ocean view, filled with several large padded mats. Dropping our bags, we kicked off our flip flops. Then, I pulled off my shirt and so did Willow, revealing a small bra tank.
For the love of God, why was I losing all control when I was near her?
She was turning me into a teenage boy every time.

Starting our session in a back to back meditation pose was helpful. Even though we were touching, at least, I wasn’t looking directly at her. Of course, that wouldn’t last long as we moved on to more positions.

Moving on, we stretched together, always touching while holding eye contact. I was so focused on her, I barely heard anything the instructors said. The only thing I was certain they said was, “feel free to communicate verbally, if you need to, especially if you are feeling too much pressure, too much pulling. Let your partner know.” We seemed to work perfectly together as we moved through ground positions and then standing connected poses before attempting a few simple acro-yoga lifts.

Hearing her words, I nearly dropped her. “I need to find a partner back home.”

“No.” An abrupt statement, I couldn’t stop myself.

“Excuse me?” I felt her stiffen, her whole body became ridged. She was instantly heavier in my arms. She lost focus on our flowing breaths. For the first time ever, we weren’t in sync. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No. You’re fine. More than fine; you’re great. Relax.” Breathless answers, I guided her through each move. Thoughts of her in positions under my command excited me. Thoughts of her held by another man had me seeing red.

Ending as we began, in a back to back meditation position, I was able to calm my breathing. Clear my negative thoughts. But, the continued touch of her up against me electrified my body. Willing positive thoughts to invade my brain was virtually impossible. Emptying my mind was even harder. I was not going to win. With Willow, all of my years of training flew right out the window. She was bad for my profession. She challenged me without even knowing it.

Admitting defeat, I allowed myself to focus on what I wanted to do next, away from the masses. Aware of a loss, I snapped out of a lust-filled fog as she moved away from me and stood. Standing, I joined her and went to get our things. As soon as we had lifted our light bags from the floor, I scooped Willow up and tossed her over my shoulder. I couldn’t wait another minute—straining to stop an erection that was about to break free, no matter how much I tried to will it away—I had to have her. I had reached the point of no return, I didn’t care who saw me carry her away.

Closer to my accommodations, I made a mad dash in that direction. Opening the door to my bungalow, I lowered her to her feet. She immediately strolled to a set of large, sliding, glass doors that allowed a view of a white sandy beach and the sea beyond. “Nice accommodations!”

I shrugged as I removed my clothes. “Perks.”

“I’ll say. Big ones. VIP status for the rockstar-yoga-guru,” she announced, still gazing out to the ocean. I chuckled. That was the third time that she had labeled me with that grand title.

Walking up behind her, naked, I stripped her bare of the flimsy garments that were slowly killing me through each pose. Nibbling the side of her neck, she turned in my arms to face me then she started to move away. “Shower?”

I shook my head, holding her in place. “No.”

“No. But I’m sweaty. Sticky.”

I licked her shoulder. “Mmmm. Ripe. Fragrant.” Another taste along her neck. “Your bouquet has been overwhelming me for the last hour.”

“Bouquet?” Her eyes questioned me. “You think I smell like flowers?” She lifted her arm slightly, taking a whiff.

I laughed, spilling out words which seemed to confuse her more. “Zesty. Full body. I could practically taste you on my tongue.”

“Sounds like you’re describing a nice bottle of wine. You know your way around wines? A palette for fermented grapes? Connoisseur? Wine aficionado? Collector? Vintner?” she questioned with a gleam in her eye.

I kissed her nose, leading her into the bedroom. “No details.
Your
rules.”

She repeated my words.

Moving just out of her reach, I looked her over. It was a chance to gain composure. Control. “On the bed. Legs open.”

“Still instructing, Mr. Guru sir?” she asked playfully as she obeyed my command.

“Something like that.” I pushed her legs up, folding her knee as I covered her body, her legs came over my shoulders and I slid deep inside of her.

“Oh,” escaped from her sexy red lips and she began to move her hips.

“Don’t move.” Stilled, my mouth attacked hers for as long as I could take it.

Needing air, and to quiet the urge to come undone, I focused on her soft skin. As I slowly trailed my lips down her body, I started to, inch by inch, pull out of her warmth. Skimming lightly her neck, collarbone, each shoulder… “You’re driving me crazy,” she whispered. I ignored her words that seemed so foreign—we had never used sentences, let alone full vocabularies while fucking—and continued my path. Taking each breast into my hands and mouth, sucking them, giving them both equal attention, she moaned and squirmed. Those were the verbalizations I was familiar with.

“Don’t move.” I wanted her frustrated, filled with anticipation.

I moved below, across her stomach, planting kisses as I slipped completely out of her. I sensed a bit of a protest and promptly nipped her hip bone, the left and then right. Moving to the center, I drew my tongue straight down to sample her nectar. It was my turn to moan, and use words. “So wet. So delicious.” She pushed into my face. “Don’t move.”

I had her where I wanted to her, mentally. “You’re killing me.”

“With pleasure. What a way to go.” My lips smiled against her plush ones.

“Yesss,” she hissed as my fingers filled her, pumping in and out of her, while I continued to suck and lick her pretty, pink swollen lips. Pulsing and shaking, a beautiful orgasm screamed from her body, rolling on and on until I felt her melt into the mattress, limp.

Moving off the bed, I pulled her legs to the end of it and then I reached down to lift her up and over my shoulder. “What are you doing to me?” Her question was breathless.

“Shower.”

In the bathroom, I opened the glass door, adjusted the water and stepped inside. Settled on her feet, I saw a beautiful woman stirring back to life with a wicked look in her eyes. “Your turn,” she said as she slipped to her knees before my cock.

Willow

O
n our last morning, I had Dash all to myself as he was not leading his usual sunrise yoga, in lieu of teaching an afternoon lesson for other instructors. Relieved of one duty, he led me through a multitude of sleepy sex positions. Then, he followed them up by feeding me a scrumptious brunch on his patio with its magnificent beach view before returning me to his bed until he pulled me along to his final yoga session. He neglected to mention that I was to be his partner as he taught the couple’s yoga class.

Moving through each connecting pose, I was feeling more emotions than I’d ever felt for a man. Facing each other, feet together and spread wide, then legs straight with our hands linked rowing, pushing, pulling; the eye contact was almost too unbearable.
I knew I was going to miss those denim blues.

I sensed a heaviness for the second time with him. I had never experienced that sensation in yoga as we moved through our standing series: handstands chest to chest, arched heart, double forward bends, and down dog bows. I wanted to be anchored to our spot. Working through simple flyer-base, acro-yoga moves into child pose with alternating lounge and then into a double gate that was similar to a sixty-nine position, the true essence of just how intimate our session was hit me. The weight in my chest hurt.

Reaching the stage of meditation at the end, rather than placing our hands on our thighs palms up, Dash entwined our fingers on each side of our bodies. Back to back, I could feel our hearts beating together. The pounding was so intense, I wondered if the whole class could hear them. I didn’t want to move from our space in time… from our intimate connection.
How long could we stay like this?

Hearing the word
power
. I lost all focus with each cleansing breath.
Cleansing
. My thoughts ran to our shower the night before when my knees hit the floor. I took charge. Spurred on as he looked down at me, observing my every move with his intense denim blue eyes. Licking up his erect length, I placed a soft kiss on the tip, his chest heaved. With his moisture on my lips, I moaned at his reactions. Stroking the base with one hand firmly, I sucked him into my mouth. Swirling my tongue and sucking, his hand went into my hair. I pushed his hand away, shaking my head no. I didn’t want his guidance. I wanted to figure out what he liked. No fucking my mouth. I wanted the control over him. Obeying me, he placed his palms flat against the rock tiled wall. I continued my actions, adding my free hand to his taut genitals, lightly grazing them with my nails, then cupping their tautness with a gentle squeeze. He gasped, closing his eyes, tipping his head back. Watering cascaded over every muscle that was on high alert, beautiful! My excitement increased. My breathing matched his as he let loose and released into my mouth. I felt so alive. So powerful that his pleasure was all mine.