Waving Not Drowning

She is breathtakingly beautiful. That's not just a saying, Marinda really does take people's breath away. Men walk into telephone poles passing her on the street. Light standards- they bounce off and grapple for a moment to find equilibrium then follow her with their gaze until she's out of sight. Longing.  It's an ease, a quiet confidence coupled with stunning beauty; a grace and elegance married in strength and sexuality. Power. Potential. Men and women want to sleep with her. Marry her. Possess her, ingest her then travel the world with her, climbing mountains and rescuing malnourished orphan children while digging wells in Eritrea with her. She inspires that depth of devotion. A fascination and dedication known only by gurus and cult leaders. Except she's neither. Never practiced yoga a day in her life. Namaste what? As for cults, her parents escaped with the family when she was 3. Her brother and sister have made a relative go of things in the outside world. Be...

This was supposed to be good for him, solve all his problems, turn him into a beautiful human being free from anxiety and judgement, a zen freakin machine of bliss. Why does he feel like he's about to split in two? This can't be right. Rob is positive no human being is built to contort like this, all cirque de soleil up in his groin. The yogini in her strappy bra top and skintight lulus with her perfect upside down heart shaped ass is relentlessly upbeat and encouraging, gently guiding his hip into the right position, touching him in ways no woman has in months. If he wasn't in so much pain he'd have a raging erection. Fantastic, just what Rob needs to help him release into the pose. Oh man, don't think about release, don't look at her ass, that pefect ass. All this forward folding. It's enough to get him to class every day. Twice a day depending on the teacher. Bought himself an unlimited monthly pass. What he can't understand is why the classes aren...