My wife had been having yoga lessons at home since June with a very handsome hippy type guy. The lessons always followed the same routine. One hour, the instructor sat in one corner of our living room almost like a statue, chanting out instructions of what my wife should do. Pleasant yoga type music in the background and incense burning. He never moved, he just sat there, watching.
In early July the yoga instructor announced that he would be going to Holland for two months and would not be back until September, somewhat to my disappointment. On his previous visits I had always hidden in our bedroom, discreetly watching the instructor who watched my wife. Much to my disappointment nothing sexual ever happened. I had even talked about him whilst fucking my wife to try and spur some sort of interest but nothing. It was purely a professional situation.
Yesterday that all changed.
The instructor arrived at our home at 9:30 a.m. on the dot, as always, and took his seat on the floor in the corner of our living room.
My wife was wearing tight-fitting pink yoga pants with a very colorful collage on them, colors that showed off her beautiful legs to full advantage. She also had a black sports bra on. I could see the outline of her thong as she bent over to prepare her yoga mat. After the usual small talk, the music started and so did his chants and so I disappeared into our bedroom to position myself at my vantage point, unseen by either him or my wife.
Yoga brings out a lot of emotions in the people practicing it. It also makes my wife very relaxed, very wet, and extremely aroused. Sex with her after her practicing yoga is always amazing.
Her nipples are hard whilst she practices and are easily noticeable through her top. You can sense her excitement by the way she breathes and how her stomach rises and falls the more excited she gets.
The yoga instructor was about 6 feet tall and very well built, with well-toned muscles and from what I could see through his scant shorts, well-proportioned too. A very good-looking guy aged between 25 and 28 at a guess.
The yoga was very intense this time, more so than on previous occasions. The instructor was concentrating on my wife’s breathing, especially from her “center”. He used that word repeatedly throughout the hour-long yoga part of his session. Center of course is the yoni. He was basically telling my wife to center her thoughts on her pussy and to use her pelvic floor muscles.
After about fifty agonizing minutes he asked her to lay down on her back and to relax, concentrate her breathing, and to meditate. At some point during the last fifty minutes, he had lost his shirt and was wearing purely his red shorts. The room was in silence except for the background music and my wife’s deep breathing. She was still clothed when he started to massage her feet and lower legs. She kept her eyes firmly shut throughout. He then moved to massage her head and arms, moving finally to her flat lean stomach.