Rooftop Sunset

My hands were shaking against the yoga mat, and it wasn't from the pose.

I'd been watching her for three months now — the way she moved through the vinyasa, the curve of her spine in downward dog, that tiny sound she made when she stretched. Maya. Even her name felt like a secret on my tongue.

Tonight, she'd asked me to stay after class.

"This one's special," she'd said, her dark eyes holding mine just a second too long. "Private lesson. The view's better upstairs."

Now the rooftop spread out around us, the city glittering below like scattered jewels, the last orange light bleeding into purple across the sky. She'd laid down two mats, side by side, and the evening breeze carried her scent — coconut and sweat and something floral I couldn't name.

"Lie down," she said, and my pulse jumped.

I obeyed, the rough fabric of the mat scratching through my tank top. The concrete was still warm from the day's heat, radiating up through the thin barrier. She settled beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat of her skin without touching.

"Close your eyes."

I did.

Her voice dropped lower, softer. "I want you to feel everything tonight. Every point of contact. Every breath."

Her fingers brushed my wrist, feather-light. I shivered.

"Your hands are tense," she murmured. "You hold so much here."

She took my right hand, her thumb pressing into my palm, working slow circles. Her touch was firm, knowing, and my cock stirred against my thigh.

"Breathe into it."

I tried, but my breath caught when her fingers slid between mine, interlacing. She squeezed, once, and I felt it all the way down.

"Maya..."

"Shh." Her lips were close to my ear now, her breath warm. "I know. I've seen you watching me."

My eyes flew open. She was propped on one elbow, looking down at me, a half-smile playing on her lips. The sunset caught her face, painted it gold.

"I'm..." I started, but she pressed a finger to my lips.

"Don't apologize. I like it."

She leaned in, and I didn't move. Her mouth brushed mine, soft, testing. I let out a shaky breath, and she took it as permission, pressing harder, her lips parting.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, like everything she did. Her tongue traced my lower lip, and I groaned, my hand coming up to cup her neck. Her skin was hot, damp from the class.

"Lie back," she whispered against my mouth.

I did, and she followed me down, her body settling over mine. The weight of her was perfect — not too much, just enough to pin me to the mat, to make me feel every inch of her.

Her mouth trailed down my jaw, my throat, pausing at my collarbone. She nipped, just barely, and I gasped.

"Like that?" she murmured.

—Sí.

She smiled against my skin. "Good."

Her hands found the hem of my tank top, sliding underneath, her palms flat against my stomach. I was hard, obvious against her hip, and she rocked against me, just a little, just enough.

"Fuck," I breathed.

"Todavía no."

She sat up, straddling me, and pulled her own shirt over her head. Her breasts were small, perfect, tipped with dark nipples that tightened in the cooling air. She reached behind and unclasped her bra, letting it fall.

I reached up, but she caught my wrists, pinning them above my head.

"No," she said, but her voice was soft. "Let me."

She leaned forward, her hair brushing my face, and kissed me again, deeper this time. Her bare chest pressed against mine, and the sensation — skin on skin, her nipples grazing my chest — made me buck up against her.

She laughed, low and dark, and reached between us. Her fingers found the waistband of my shorts, slipped inside. Her touch was confident, knowing exactly what she wanted.

I was already leaking, the tip of my cock slick against my belly. She wrapped her hand around me, and I moaned into her mouth.

"Shh," she whispered. "The neighbors."

"I don't care."

She squeezed, and I shut up.

Her strokes were slow, deliberate, her thumb circling the head. I was lost, drowning in the sensation, the city lights blurring at the edges of my vision.

"Mírame," dijo ella.

I did. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.

"I want you inside me."

The words hit me like a punch. I couldn't speak, just nodded.

She rose up, reaching down to guide me. I felt the head of my cock press against her, wet and warm, and she sank down with a sigh.

We both stilled.

The world stopped, the city noise fading, the breeze dying. There was only her, wrapped around me, her heat, her weight, her breath.

"Okay?" she asked.

Más que bien.

She started to move.

Slow at first, a gentle roll of her hips that had me gripping the mat beneath me. Her head fell back, her throat exposed, and I watched her face — the way her lips parted, the flutter of her eyelids.

"You're beautiful," I said.

She smiled, her rhythm speeding up. "You're not so bad yourself."

Her hands found my chest, pressing down, and she rode me harder. The mat slid beneath us, the concrete scraping my elbows, but I didn't care. There was only her, the wet sound of our bodies meeting, the tiny gasps she made with every thrust.

"Close," she breathed.

—Yo también.

"Not yet." She slowed, grinding against me, and the change in pace was maddening. "I want to feel you come inside me."

I groaned, my hands finding her hips. "Maya..."

She leaned forward, her mouth against my ear. "Come for me."

That was all it took.

I came hard, my back arching, my fingers digging into her skin. She rode me through it, her own body trembling, her breath catching. She followed a moment later, a low moan escaping her lips, her body clenching around me.

We lay there, tangled, the city humming below.

After a long moment, she laughed, soft and breathless.

—¿Qué? —pregunté.

She looked down at me, her hair falling around her face like a curtain. "That was not in the class description."

I laughed too, the tension breaking. "Best private lesson ever."

She kissed me, quick and warm. "You're not getting a refund."

CATEGORIES: [Horny slut, Yoga teacher, Student, Outdoor sex, Rooftop]