Page 15 of The Curve
“Umm.” It’s an involuntary sound that escapes my lips, and it makes her take her hands away. Damn.
“So what can I do for you today?” she says in a professional tone.
I look at myself and turn my head to the side a little to check out the length. “Just a trim. I like the sides close and the top long. I don’t know, do what you want.”
She surrounds me with a drape and turns my chair around. “Let’s get it washed first. Come on.”
I follow her to the basin and assume the position. I don’t know, but this is a very sexy scene. Me laying back, legs spread, her standing over me, close and in charge, her breasts so near I could touch them with my tongue. I close my eyes to avoid the temptation. Then she starts the water. It’s warm and soothing, and she has a delicate touch.
“Too hot?” she asks.
“No. It feels great.”
I open my eyes and find she’s looking directly in mine. Neither of us looks away but she continues to run the water over my hair. Not a drop gets on my face as she expertly moves her hand and spray across my hairline. Then she turns it off and pumps some shampoo in her hand. I feel her fingers massaging my scalp and gently washing it. More gently than I’ve ever had done before. It’s fucking sexy. Still her eyes haven’t left mine.
“Go out with me,” I say softly.
“No,” she whispers.
“Come on. I know you want to.”
She pauses for a moment while she gathers her thoughts.
“That doesn’t matter,” she says rinsing off the shampoo.
“Yes it matters. It’s the only thing that does.”
She looks away, ignores my comment, and wraps a towel around my head. One tap on the shoulder prompts me to get up. At least she didn’t contradict me. I’ll take it. Baby steps.
* * *
My next moveis thanks to Mallory. She shared her mother’s schedule with me and that formed the plan. Good thing I’m not one to embarrass easily, because the jokes gonna be on me. I’m going to look like a fool I’m sure, but at least my hair looks good. But no matter. It’ll accomplish what I want. This is where I step it up, enlist others in my cause. Just don’t want Charlotte to get pissed. That’s the only risk to the plan.
The Yoga For Life studio is tucked in a corner of the strip mall, and by the cars parked in the lot I’d say they’re popular. One woman with her mat is hurrying toward the door for the six p.m. class. It started five minutes ago. I park the Ferrari at the back of the lot, far away from the studio. In case she’s late I don’t want her to see my car and take off. Guess they’ll have extra mats for walk-ins, so I make sure my phone’s turned off, lock the car and pocket my keys. Here we go.
When I walk through the glass door no eyes turn toward me because they’re all closed. Everyone is in the zone. I grab a mat against the back wall and take a seat on the floor in the last row.
“Let’s breathe in through the nose, and out through the mouth. Smell the roses, blow out the candles. Just be in this moment,” the teacher instructs in a soft monotone voice.
I spot Charlotte as she sits cross legged, so still and peaceful. She’s at the front of the class. What’s she got on? Shit girl. I don’t get the complete picture because she’s sitting but what I can see is spectacular. She’s wearing black Lycra low slung leggings and a white and black sports bra kind of a top. It showcases full breasts that deserve a parade for their ability to make me want to cheer. And the abs. God. I can’t wait till she stands so I can see the whole package. That long braid falling down her back and the loose wisp of hair on her face isn’t hurting things either.
I’ve got one eye open and the other closed. When the instructor spots me sitting cross legged and wearing a sling, she nods, but I’m not sure it’s because she recognized me.
“Let’s begin. Everyone rise. Remember to breathe deeply as we go through our routine. And welcome to our new student.”
With that everyone turns to find me. There’s whispered comments spreading through the room. Charlotte’s eyes widen and once again she presses her lips together holding back her smile. I give her a little wave and everyone can see it, then return the friendly expressions of the ladies with one of my own.
But when I look at the ass on Charlotte I forget every other person in the room. Lord!! It’s high and round and solid, like she’s hiding a basketball in her pants. Christ, I hope my dick doesn’t decide to pop up. With that one look I know my masturbation fantasies just got richer.
For the next hour the class is put through its paces. I’m only along for the ride with this wounded clavicle. Mostly I’m doing a lot of one-sided stretching and bending over. Once in a while one of the women giggles at my lame attempt to stand on one leg or bend like Gumby. But I’m a poor contestant in this contest. Every one of these women can out stretch, be more flexible and balance better than me. Who cares? I’m just here for the floor show.
Every pose Charlotte does is an invitation to have mind-blowing sex. Downward Facing Dog, Tree, Bridge, Plank, all requiring flexibility and strength. The handstand has my heart racing. I can imagine going down on her on my knees while she sucks my cock. An impossible 69 to the second power.
As the hour winds down, I decide to make my move. When the instructor dismisses the class, I speak up.
“Excuse me, ladies!” I call.
All heads turn toward me. Charlotte looks panicked.
