The Downward Dog

The office party was a blur of cheap wine and forced laughter, but all I could see was Maya across the room. She was my yoga instructor, the woman who spent an hour each Tuesday coaxing my stiff body into pretzel shapes, and here she was in a tight black dress that hugged every curve I'd only ever glimpsed under loose leggings. She caught me staring, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

"Didn't peg you for an office drone, Sarah," she said, sliding up beside me, her voice a low purr against the hum of conversation.

"Didn't peg you for someone who leaves the studio," I shot back, my heart hammering. I'd spent months fantasizing about her hands on my hips, correcting my warrior pose, and now she was close enough to smell—sandlewood and something sharper, like heat.

"Maya's my sister's name," she said, laughing. "I'm Lena. And I've been watching you in class, Sarah. The way you move... it's distracting."

The party faded to a dull roar. Lena's fingers brushed my wrist, a feather-light touch that sent electricity up my arm. "There's a supply closet down the hall," she whispered, her breath warm on my ear. "I've got something better than downward dog for you."

The closet was small, dark, smelled of toner and paper. Lena pressed me against the door, her mouth finding mine—not gentle, but hungry. Her tongue slid against mine as her hands bunched the fabric of my blouse, yanking it from my skirt.

"Fuck, I've wanted this," she breathed against my neck, her teeth grazing my skin. "Wanted to feel you squirm under me, not just on the mat."

I moaned, arching into her. "Then feel me."

Her hand slid up my thigh, under my skirt, and I gasped as her fingers found the damp heat of my panties. "Jesus, you're soaked already." She pushed the fabric aside, and I felt her finger slide through my slick folds, circling my clit with practiced precision.

"Lena—" my voice cracked.

She dropped to her knees, pulling my panties down my legs. "I want to taste you first."

Her tongue was hot, flat against my pussy, lapping up my wetness before her lips closed around my clit. I bit my hand to keep from screaming as she sucked, flicked, devoured me. My legs shook, and I gripped her hair, pulling her closer.

"Don't stop," I gasped. "Please, don't stop."

She didn't. She pushed two fingers inside me, curling them just right, and I came hard, my orgasm ripping through me as I stifled a cry against my own fist. She licked me clean, her eyes dark and satisfied.

"Now," she said, standing, wiping her mouth. "My turn."

She turned around, bending over a stack of boxes, and looked back at me over her shoulder. "Fuck me from behind. Hard."

I didn't need to be asked twice. I yanked her dress up, revealing her bare ass—no panties. She'd planned this. I lined up my cock—I'd never thought of it that way, but I'd been packing a strap-on under my skirt for a party I hoped would end like this—and pushed inside her.

"Fuck, yes," she moaned, her back arching.

I grabbed her hips, setting a brutal pace, slamming into her as her ass bounced against me. The closet filled with the sounds of our bodies meeting, her wetness coating me. She was tight, hot, and I drove deeper with every thrust.

"Harder," she begged. "Don't you dare go soft on me."

I slapped her ass, leaving a red mark, and she cried out. "You like that?"

"Fuck, yes."

I fucked her like that, pounding into her, feeling her walls clench around me. I reached around, finding her clit, rubbing it in circles as I kept thrusting.

"I'm gonna come again," she gasped.

"Do it," I growled. "Come on my cock."

She shattered, her body trembling as she came with a guttural cry. I felt myself teetering, and I pulled out, turning her around and dropping to my knees, taking her pussy in my mouth one more time. I licked her clean, tasting her orgasm, and she pulled me up, kissing me hard, both of us tasting her.

She looked up at me, her chest heaving, and laughed softly. "Best office party ever."

I grinned, tucking myself back into my skirt. "Better than yoga?"

"Way better." She straightened her dress, smoothing her hair. "Same time next week?"

"Only if you're the teacher."

She kissed me again, slow this time. "You're the only student I'd ever bend over for."

We slipped out of the closet, back into the party, our secret burning between us.