“That’s kind of what I was hoping you’d say. I am a little sunshined out for the day, but you totally nailed it. I don’t really want to go to my room and possibly hear my best friend sexing it up with my cousin so….” She shivers.
Unable to muffle my laughter, I lead her to the lounge area. “Yeah, I’m not sure I’d want front row seats to that either. Come on. Let’s go get our muscles loose.”
When we reach the room, I notice that we must be a few minutes late because they’ve already started. There are a bunch of yoga mats splayed out on the floor, and the tables have all been pushed aside to make room for the class that’s in session. In the center are a girl and a guy. The guy isn’t wearing a shirt but has gray joggers covering his bottom half, while the girl is in a white tank top and gray yoga pants. The whole thing is very granola, and I look at Nora with wide eyes.
“You sure you’re ready for this? We can go if you don’t feel comfortable,” she whispers before grabbing my hand and squeezing. She probably doesn’t even notice she’s done that, but it makes me smile. It’s not the first time I’ve seen her read someone’s emotions before making it her personal mission to take care of them, but I like being on the receiving end of her efforts.
“Lead the way, Pretty Girl.”
At the edge of the room, there’s an empty yoga mat, and Nora mirrors the other couple’s stance by kneeling at the front of it. Following suit, I slide behind her, then put my hands on her shoulders.
The male instructor nods his approval before walking over to us and squatting low. “Thank you for joining us. Right now, we’re working on a simple relaxation technique that involves rolling your thumbs along the base of the skull. We recommend you strip down to your swimsuits to allow for a deeper massage, but no pressure.” Handing me a small bottle the size of travel shampoo, he adds, “Here’s some massage oil to help prevent too much friction.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Nora listens to his instructions before slipping the white cover-up over her head and folding it beside her on the edge of the mat.
She’s trying to kill me. That’s the only possible explanation for the torture I know I’m about to go through. Subtly, I rearrange my stiffy before recognizing that I’m in a pair of board shorts. Hiding this monster is going to be an issue, and willing it to go away is a wasted effort as I take in all the silky, smooth skin on full display.
And I get to touch it.
With another look over her shoulder, Nora asks, “So uh…we gonna do this, or…?”
I chuckle. “You have no idea how many ways I want to answer that question.”
She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Squeezing a dime-sized amount of oil into my hand, I rub my palms together then dig my thumb into the base of her skull. Nora’s dark brown hair is pulled on top of her head in a sexy messy bun that gives me plenty of access to her neck and spine. Goosebumps race across her bare skin as I rub in a circular motion, daring me to lean forward and press my mouth to them.
The male instructor prevents me from moving forward with my plan as he advises, “Now, I want you to continue drawing slow circles along both sides of the spine. Remember, slow circles,” he emphasizes. “I want you to pay attention to your partner’s reactions. If their muscles are tense, or if they’re sitting up too straight, then you’re probably doing something wrong. Listen to their breathing. Watch the rise and fall of their chest. Feel the muscles beneath your fingers. Are they hard and tight? Soft like putty? Answer these questions in your head because each and every one of them is trying to tell you something.”
My breathing is shallow as I slowly glide my hands down her spine, mirroring the circular motion the instructor is demonstrating on his female counterpart. Shifting onto my knees to prevent my dick from saluting the entire class, I listen to Nora’s breathing. It hitches before she rolls her head down to give me better access, then she melts under my touch.
I’ve given massages before. I’ve been on the receiving end too. But none of them have ever felt like the kind of foreplay I’m experiencing right now. It’s lethal.
When a soft moan slips past her pouty lips, I groan and shift my hands from my left to right, craving relief from the torture I’m putting us both through with a simple back massage. But it doesn’t stop. If anything, it’s only amplified when the female instructor breaks the electric silence with her smooth voice. “Now, we’re going to trade places. Ladies, as we all know, we’re smaller than most men, and sometimes, we’re able to get a little more leverage by administering the massage from a different angle. While you were able to sit up to enjoy your massage, we suggest that the men lie down on their stomachs.”
Holding my breath, I slide off my white T-shirt, then roll onto my stomach and raise my arms from my sides to use them as a pillow against the hard ground.
At least they didn’t ask us to lay on our backs, I think to myself before smirking. Probably because they’ve tried that before and got quite the view of everyone standing at full mast.
“Ladies, you have two choices. You can either sit beside your partner’s back on the left or right or, if you’re comfortable enough, you’re welcome to straddle them in order to have the best leverage. This position allows you to really dig into those
