Namaste Yoga Pt. 10

"I think I figured something out," Charlie sat on the edge of Jacob's desk. It was Monday morning, the start of a new day, a new week, and for Charlie a new relationship. She'd been thinking about practically nothing else since Thursday.

He looked up, waiting patiently.

"I had...drinks...with Emmy last week." She paused, thinking whether to tell him more. "Well...more than drinks." She looked away and changed tack. "Anyway, I think you and she have something in common. Something rare."

He continued to wait, knowing it sometimes took Charlie a few sentences to figure out what she was trying to say.

"Shit. Okay. Let me try this out on you: we've been building this business based on the belief that you somehow arouse women, without any specific efforts on your part. I've told you I think it has something to do with the smell of your penis." She saw his eyes flicker, knowing he was humoring her. They'd discussed it so many times, and although she knew he'd run out of energy to argue against the idea, she also knew that didn't mean he accepted it. She licked her lips, wishing she could smell it now. It had been months since they'd had sex, but after her night with Emmy, she figured her need for him would have diminished. Oddly it had only gotten more intense.

He watched her face and felt her need, smiling thinly. As much as he had desired a deeper relationship with her, he had resigned himself to her keeping her distance. He took her reasons at face value: to build her career, to not get too close to the people she worked with, and so on. But he liked this woman and after all of these years still held out hope she would commit to something more than physical intimacy.

"You've been surprised at Emmy's effect on you, right?" She got up and pulled a chair in front of him.

He nodded, still patiently waiting for her to get to the point.

"Okay," she exhaled, "what if, and don't stop me, your 'smell' is some kind of pheromone?" She didn't pause long—this was an old argument and she wasn't interested in revisiting his protests. "And what if Emmy has something similar?"

He kept his face passive, not wanting to provoke her, and leaning forward took her hands in his. He pursed his lips, giving the appearance of considering her assumption. "Of course, if we accept the notion about my effect, then it opens the door to the possibility Emmy has a similar...gift." He rolled his chair toward hers, still holding her hands, locking his eyes onto her. "How was she?" He smiled, their faces practically close enough to kiss.

It was Charlie's turn to roll her eyes, but she knew she couldn't deny the implication. He could read her like nobody else she'd known. She looked away and exhaled again. "Insane. Incredible. I..." she almost said out loud what she'd been thinking all weekend: I'm falling in love. But she couldn't imagine it was true. She hadn't thought of herself that way. She felt his hands move up her arms and she froze even as a pulse warmed her deep inside.

"Shhh," he rubbed lightly, comfortingly. "I'm still the same man. You know I care deeply for you. This isn't about me." He moved his hands up to her shoulders, pushing her sleeves with them.

She caught a whiff of cinnamon and looked down to see if his penis was stiffening beneath his tunic. She thought she saw an impression, but it wasn't obvious and she quickly glanced back at his face. Realizing he'd seen her glancing down, she pressed her lips together, feeling the warmth growing between her legs.

"What are we doing?" She felt off balance. She needed him inside her, but the feelings from last Thursday with Emmy were still fresh. She pushed everything aside for a moment to press her point, ignoring his fingers massaging her shoulders, ignoring the spice in her nose on every inhale, and most of all ignoring the growing need she was feeling in her core. "Isn't it possible she has something similar to you?"

He nodded gently, letting her know he understood the argument, but not necessarily accepting it. "It's possible," he agreed, pressing his thumbs against her collarbone and rubbing her muscles. "We have time before the first class."

She closed her eyes, letting his hands move muscles she hadn't realized were tense. She exhaled and nodded, her arousal building. She pushed her fingers against his thighs, pulling the fabric up across his briefs, her hands against his warmth. She rolled her chair closer, cupping his growing erection through the fabric of his shorts, her heart beating faster as his fingers slowly unbuttoned her blouse. This wasn't what she had intended when she came in this morning...or was it? All weekend her emotions had been on a roller-coaster from her "date" with Emmy, and now the memory of Emmy's compliance mixed with her need for Jacob to take her.

He had peeled her blouse and bra off, his fingers gently stroking her light brown breasts, his thumb rubbing across her stiffening deep pink nipples. She moaned softly, pressing against the growing lump between his legs. She stood up slightly to let him pull down her skirt and underwear, distracted by the thought she would leave a stain on the chair if she didn't take care.

She needed to feel his skin against her breasts and tugged at his tunic. He lifted to let her slide it up and, interrupting his caresses, pulled it over his head. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling them together, her mouth planting kisses on his neck, feeling his warm skin press against her nipples. So different from Emmy, she thought, the memory of their bodies pressed together on the floor of her living room overlaying the sensation of his firm muscles against her breasts.

She dragged her hands down his back, pulling at the waistband of his shorts and, with him tipping forward, dragging them down his thighs past his knees. The spice of his cock hit her nose and she pulled back to look at his member, brown and lengthening as she watched. She needed to have it in her; she wanted him to fuck her throat but she knew it was impossible. She'd tried. Multiple times. Still, she bent down, sliding her chair back, opening her lips to take him in.

He sat back and opened his legs, his hands rested lightly on her head, caressing her there just as he had her breasts. He loved her mouth, wet cheeks, her teeth lightly grazing across his stick, her tongue darting up and down the underside. He knew she wanted to take him deeper, but there was only one student, other than Emmy, in all the years who had sufficient skill and anatomy to take him in entirely. It wasn't important to him. Surely not as important as it was to her.

She only got half-way down, his cock filling her mouth and pushing against the back of her palette. If she went any further she'd either choke or lose her breakfast and she didn't want either of those choices. Instead she just hovered in place, pulling on it with each inhalation, rolling her tongue around what little space there was and relishing the taste and smell of him. Her insides were loosening, the warmth heating up to a brighter need. She knew she was leaking onto the chair. She needed him deep inside her.

Pulling off his cock (noting how much thicker and erect it had become) she looked at his face, knowing hers was a mess: lusty, wet, needy. He reached under her arms and easily lifted her up over his rising wood. She spread her legs, one hand reaching to her labia to open herself as wide as possible, the other encircling his shaft to guide him into her. Slowly he let her down, just entering her but not lowering her further.

She felt his cockhead pushing her wide open and knew it would hurt. Even three of her fingers, or her largest toy, weren't a match for his size. She hadn't had anything in her as big as him since the last time they'd fucked, months ago. She moaned as he slowly let her down, impaling her on him. As he pushed her open she yelped involuntarily, an equal mixture of pain and relief from her aching need to be filled. Lower, deeper, thicker, she imagined his pole spreading her pink walls apart; the image triggered more lubrication. She felt her liquid sliding past her opening even as she bottomed out on him.

Naked, the two faced each other on his chair. She returned her arms around him to hug them closer together, her legs spread across his, their skin merging from her belly to the top of their chests. She was completely filled and couldn't move, but she didn't need to. It was perfect, just sitting there impaled on him, feeling his heartbeat through his cock, through their chests. She rotated her pelvis and felt him pulse. She squeezed him using the training he'd given her, milking him with her vaginal muscles.

His breathing deepened and his hands ran from the crack between her cheeks up her back and down again, slowly tracing a path back and forth. He knew she wouldn't climax this way, but maybe she didn't want to.

She leaned back, peeling her breasts from him, and studied his face, the air cooling her exposed skin. She hadn't cracked his expressions in all the years they'd been doing this. She could tell he was aroused, but only by a slight flush in his cheeks and his labored breathing. She rocked more strongly, intent on feeling him shoot his cum up into her. She knew it wouldn't happen unless she asked.

He looked down from her face, studying the light sheen on her breasts, a drop sliding past her belly button into her pubic hair. He groaned as she milked his cock, his eyes snapping back to her face, her movements making him smile. She was staring at him, her eyes dilated and unfocused, her jaw relaxed, mouth open.

She leaned in again, brushing her lips against his ear. "Fuck me, Jacob. I need to feel you cumming inside me." She pulled back slightly, lightly plastering his face with kisses until she found his lips. She attacked him, holding his head with her hands as she explored his mouth with her tongue. She could feel the effect on his cock, pulsing and moving against her.

He rotated, just so, and pressed his pubic bone against her clit, slowly rubbing it even as he pushed against her from the inside. Her tongue pushed against him, her hands holding him tighter. He could ejaculate; it wouldn't take much, but he held off. The feeling of her slick tight channel was too delicious.

She knew he was toying with her, the images of what she'd done to Emmy (or more precisely, she corrected herself, what Emmy had begged her to do to her) last Thursday bubbling up. As Emmy pushed the rabbit into herself, begging Charlie to watch her fuck herself, her juices covering the plastic with a glossy shine. And her aroma. Charlie could feel her arousal building just from the memory of Emmy's smell, combined with Jacob's spice. She groaned, pulling her lips away to whisper again in his ear.

"Please, Jacob. I need to feel you cum, to feel your hot crème jet into me. Fuck me, please fuck me! It feels so good!" Why had they waited so long? The motion (and emotion) of him fucking her, so slowly, so tightly, triggered memories of past times together; times when they weren't so tightly bound in this position, when he could move freely, sliding deep and coming out. She squeezed him with her muscular walls, first at her entrance, proceeding higher as far as she could, contracting her abs to push down against his head.

He pushed against her clit from inside and out, forcing another groan. He felt the precipice in front of him, dancing first toward and then away from him with each breath. He could choose to go toward it but each step risked going over the edge. And then it was at his feet and he didn't back away, falling into his climax.

She felt him stiffen, swell and pulse, knowing he would give her what she'd begged for, and then it hit. She could feel the first jet, slightly hotter than her, hit against her cervix, followed by another. By the third pulse, she could feel the first liquid sliding between her wall and his member, waiting for it to drop out of her onto his legs. He kept his cadence, pushing against her in both directions. The combination of his hot seed, hard cock and massaging of her clit lit her up. She pulled him tight, contracting against him up and down her body as the orgasm flashed out from her core. "Thank you," she whispered, over and over again with each exhale. She had so needed it; she'd been keyed up since Thursday, needing to be filled...to be...fucked. By him.

As the climax passed, the images from last week with Emmy threatened to collide with the emotion of Jacob fucking her. She didn't want to dwell on it. Why couldn't she have both? Why not together? The thought shocked her, but then she laughed. Why would either of them care? They've already done it!

She slumped against him, totally relaxing, feeling their juices flowing out of her. "That was so...fucking amazing," she breathed out.

He reached his hands to her face, stroking her cheeks, offering her a simple "mmmm," that was too little, but hopefully enough without ruining the moment. It was almost perfect. The only thing better would be knowing she was open to a deeper commitment. He sighed, relaxing his legs to let her fall deeper against him.

After a short while, Charlie pushed back, studying his face. "I think we need to hire her and start another set of classes."

He looked at her, confused. "Who?"

She shook her head slightly, disappointed. "Emmy, of course. She needs some more tutoring from you, but she could be ready. We could double the classes; reduce the waiting list." She paused. "We could take over Jack's lease. Remember how he was saying he wanted to get out? It's totally doable!"

He laughed at her mercurial nature. "Whoa! Is this something new? Fucking and then business? What is going on?" He smiled, running his hands through her hair.

"Fuck you," she said, kissing him. "You've seen her. You've seen what she does to you. Shit, she...I....damn. What she did last Thursday...people will pay for what she can offer. It's," she could tell she was starting to freak him out a little, "fucking freaky what happens when she gets turned on." She shook her head, "freaky."

"Perhaps," he mused, gently pulling her off and standing her up, her legs straddling his, watching their fluids drip onto his thighs. "You know our finances better than anyone. If Jack wants to make a deal, I am certain you can negotiate it. But we have to get ready for class. Come along, let's get cleaned up."

The doors were still locked and the blinds drawn. They both left his office and walked through the lobby to the showers, naked and wet. Charlie's brain was moving at light speed, working through all of the arrangements, thinking through all of the angles. As he soaped her up, a memory of Emmy's face popped up: how blissful she looked as she climaxed, how much she wanted to have her in her life.

"It's possible, right?" Charlie asked him, lathering his cock and balls and running her fingers across his asshole. "We can make it work, right?" She knew he was thinking she was talking about the business, but her thoughts were someplace else completely. "We could definitely make it work."

* - * - * - *

"Hey Emmy!"

Anyone who happened to look up at that moment would have seen Emmy's face soften with a smile of relief mixed with joy. She felt like a teenager waiting for the boy to call after their first date. Only it wasn't a boy and she was anything but a teenager. Except she felt about as awkward.

It had been days since Charlie had used her; after Sunday with Julie and Greg she worried she'd read more into their Thursday night together than had actually happened. Why hadn't Charlie called her? But then, why didn't she just call Charlie? And around and around her thoughts muddled, at first resigned to being Charlie's toy with no permission to call, then angry at being treated so poorly but not wanting to fuck things up by calling her with a chip on her shoulder.

"Shit, Charlie," she said just below a normal voice, keeping her focus on her monitor, but studying the room in her peripheral vision. "I was wondering what was happening."

"Mmmm," she answered non-committally. "You busy tonight?"

Emmy switched to her calendar and pressed her lips together, feeling herself moisten and wishing she could press those lips together to keep from leaking. So this is how it's going to be from now on? She ignored the voice and saw what she had on her schedule for Tuesday. She didn't have anything tonight, but if it was going to be like Thursday she'd be dead meat tomorrow. Nothing critical she couldn't be half-awake for.

"I'm free," she said as lightly as she could, feeling anything but light. Her insides were in turmoil thinking what Charlie might expect of her. She needed to change her pad.

"Let's agree you're available, not free. In fact, that's what I want to see you about."

"Ummmm, what?" She kept her voice confidential all the while trying to look business-like.

"How soon can you get to the studio?"

Emmy looked at the clock and realized it was almost time to go. The studio was only a few blocks away. "30 minutes?"

"Perfect. Yogi Jacob and I would like to meet with you. I think you'll like what we have to talk about."

Emmy hung up, confused and mystified. Her arousal had subsided to the slow burn she'd been feeling since Thursday, and her pad still needed attention, but now she didn't know what to expect. She quietly scooted back from her desk and walked to the women's room, grateful it was unoccupied, replacing the soaked pad with a fresh one. Wrapping the used napkin in toilet paper and depositing it in the can next to the toilet she wondered if anyone coming in after her could smell her arousal. The thought made her wrinkle her nose, embarrassed and humiliated, and that made her even more aroused. She sighed and giggled, feeling incapable of controlling her arousal. She felt like the new pad was already filling up.

She buttoned up her desk, organized herself for the next day, said her goodbyes and walked out of the office, her thoughts even more muddled than before Charlie's call. What does she want with Yogi Jacob? The images from Thursday night, from Charlie's phone, kept haunting her: her begging Yogi Jacob to fuck her throat, bending over to make herself available to be impaled by him. The other woman, his fucking her with the dildo. Each image sent another wave of arousal through her, and with that, another wave of moisture to the pad. She tried to focus on something else as she turned up the street to the studio: the people leaving their offices, cars, buses, taxis on the street.

She stopped short; she'd been concentrating so hard she'd almost passed the door. Looking through the glass she couldn't see Charlie at the desk and wondered if she'd misunderstood, pulling on the handle. It was locked. She pressed the ringer and waited until the door buzzed. Slipping through, she let her eyes adjust to the unlit reception area.

"Hellooo?" She called out.

"In here," Charlie's voice drifted out from the left studio.

She turned the corner and pushed through the studio door. "Oh! Sorry!" Reflected in the mirrors was Charlie's naked form. She giggled. "Sorry. I don't know why I apologized. I guess I didn't expect to see you...like that."

Charlie's arms, neck and breasts were pressed against the mat, her face staring straight ahead into the mirror, her stomach and legs pushing up toward the ceiling. Her light brown skin had a golden sheen. She must have been working out since she called me.

Emmy stared at her body, reflected throughout the studio: her long legs, now spread wide open in a 'V', her toned calves and knees. Her thighs, tight and muscular, ending in a dark cleft covered in short black hair, slightly parted to reveal a lighter pink within. She couldn't stop staring—her friend's body so tight...Emmy looked back at Charlie's pussy, licking her lips remembering how it tasted, the crinkle and velvet against her lips, the stiff bristles of her pubic hair, so different from Julie's fine threads. She shivered, realizing she'd had two lesbian experiences in four days!!! The critical voice was silent, but Emmy felt its contempt.