Hot Secrets (7 page)

“I’m g
oing to take off, now,” she says
. “But I’ll still see you next week, right?”

“Of course,” I answer
. “This doesn’t change any of that.”

“Okay, good.”

“But does this mean you’re going to take it a little e
asier on me in the gym?” I ask
.

“Not a chance,” she grins
. “Not a chance.”

By
Gianna
Day

Yoga with Joy and Sarah is tough, but I figure if I do it long enough, I have
a chance of getting to their level. We me
e
t once a
week at Sarah’s house. Sarah has
money
and room to spare. Her house is the type that carries
with it the buzz words of wealth: granite, travertine, ma
rble and water features. She has
an actual yoga room in addition t
o a workout room. Speakers pipe
in soothing i
nstrumentals. Dim lamps pepper
the edges
of the room and mirrors cover
th
e two longer walls. Joy’s mat i
s at the front of
the room and Sarah and I place
our mats to face her.

The look of Sarah matches
the
appearance of her house. She i
s well-manicured money
with delicate features and high cheekbones that speak of a long line of good breeding. Smooth blonde hair i
s pulled b
ack into a perfect bun. She wears
tiny diamond earrings and a matching diamond pendant. Aside from the yoga pants and
shirt and bare feet, she looks
like she
might be ready to attend the type of event that
one might call
a gala
.

Joy i
s tall with dark chocolate skin and the perfectly sculpted body of one who has taught yo
ga for a very long time. Her statuesque shoulders lead down into a long torso, narrow hips and never-ending legs. She has
a voice
like honey that i
s perfectly suited to leading a yoga class.

We ta
k
e to our mats and Joy has
us begin by standing in mountain pose.

“Just spend a few moments breathing,”
she says
. “Focus on your breath
, center yourself. You’re among friends and there is no judgment in this room. Empty your mind and just let your body work through the poses.”

Easier said than done, I think, then instantly chide
myself for my pessimism.

She le
a
d
s
us through a series of standing poses, balancing poses and a little dreaded but necessary
ab
work.

“We’re almost at the end of class,”
says
Joy, “but I thought before we finish today we’d give Bird of Paradise another try.”

“Yay,”
Sarah says
with a quiet little clap of approval.

“Ugh,”
I groan
.

When
done right, Bird of Paradise is
an elegant balance on one leg, the other leg extended at a diagonal up and to the side, bound by hands clasped behind the back
and the extended leg threaded through a gap in the arms. Both Joy and Sarah make this pose look like the name sounds.
Exotic, graceful.
When
I
attempt Bird of Paradise, I never fully reach a standing position and end up hopping around on one foot, in what feels like an attempt to simultaneously dislocate my should
er
and pull a groin muscle.

“You
’
r
e
almost there,” says Joy, in pe
rfect form, as I engage in the aforementioned
hopping maneuver.

As ridiculous as I know I look, I feel good about the class. We end
, as usual, in corpse pose
, a welcome little death. I
relax completely and melt i
nto the mat beneath me. I close my eyes. Joy walks
over to me and put
s
her hand on my
forehead, a gesture she repeats
at the end of every class. It i
s a sin
gle, simple touch that signifies
to me a job well done an
d permission to rest. I murmur, “Namaste” and she
removes
her hand from my head and walks
over to Sarah. They say their
Namastes
, as well.

Sarah remains in corpse pose while I quietly stand, r
oll up my mat and slide my flip-
flops back onto my feet. I give Joy
a small smile and wave and tip-
toe out of the
room. I let myself out of Sarah’s house, marveling along the way at her grand piano
and the Degas above the fireplace. I wouldn’t be shocked to learn it’s an original.

I throw my yoga mat in the backseat of my car and have my seatbelt buckled before I realize I don’t have my keys. I can picture them sitting on the floor just inside the yoga room. “Damn.” I creep back inside the house, as quiet as I can. If Sarah is still in corpse pose, or some other sort of meditation, I don’t want to be the one to disturb her.
Approaching the yoga room, I see my keys just inside, right where I left them. As I crouch down to retrieve them, I glance up. Sarah is still in corpse pose, lying on her back.
Joy
is leaning over her. I think Joy
i
s whispering som
ething to her, but then realize that their mouths are incredibly close. They a
re kissing
. Not a simple peck that I can
write off as an act of really c
lose friends, but a kiss that i
s inhe
rently sexual. Sarah’s lips part while Joy ru
n
s
her tongue over them and into Sarah’s mouth
. Sarah’s right hand disappears
i
nto her yoga pants. Joy remains
on all fours perched over her head, their tongues now fully engaged.

I
watch them
, wondering if I’m witnessing a spontaneous interaction or something routine, something that occurs after every yoga class
. I should
leave as I’d intended
, but I don’t want to. At the very least, I want to stay and watch them, watch them explore each other’s mouth, watch Sarah’s hand move steadily inside her pants.
This can’t be a first. No, this is a scheduled encounter. This is why Sarah always remains in corpse pose while I sneak out. With a pang of jealousy, it occurs to me that at the end of ever
y
yoga class, they wait for me to leave. I’m still crouched at the door, frozen in the reach for my keys, except for my other hand with which
I’m stroking myself through my yoga pants.

I want to join them, I want to be a part of what they are sharing, but I’m filled with doubt. This isn’t a one-on-one. At least, it won’t be if I crash the party. And I’m an outsider when it comes to these two. I’m not statuesque, I’m short on elegance, and opposed to wealth, I have an abundance of debt. I’ve convinced myself that I don’t belong and am
on the verge of retreat
when Joy stops making out with Sarah and speaks to me.

“You can join us or you can go,” she says, “but we hope you’ll want to stay.”

I’m silent, paralyzed. Sarah’s still fingering herself but turns to me and
says, “Stay.” She and Joy bring
their tongues back to one another and I’m left to make my decision. If Sarah hadn’t spoken, I might have left by way of insecurity, but the invite came from both of them. I accept.

I crawl
o
ver to Sarah’s feet. She stops playing with herself and lifts
her ass slightly so that I can
slide her
yoga pants down and off.
She isn’t wearing panties. I consider Sarah a friend, but we’ve never really touched before, so I run my fingertips along her calves for a moment.
When I can tell that she’s comfortable with my touch, as opposed to startled by it,
I spread her legs and survey
her pussy, her bush as perfectly manicured as I would have expected, blonde curls in
a tight tiny triangle. I bring
my chin to rest on the top of her puss
y with slight pressure. I stare
up at Joy, watching her tongue move from
Sarah’s mouth to her neck. I ta
k
e
one finger, l
ick
it fully and slid
e
it up a
nd down Sarah’s slit.
She’s so soft and slick, but also eager.
She pushes
her pelvis down towa
rd me, asking for more. Joy stan
d
s and walks
around behi
nd me. Still on all fours, I ta
k
e
my finger away from Sarah’s cunt and
lean in to taste her. As I do, Joy ta
k
es
o
ff my yoga pants, lies down on the floor and scoots
her head up so that it’s
in
between
my legs. She immediately starts
licking my clit and slid
es
tw
o fingers inside of me. I lick Sarah’s pussy harder, traveling
up
the length of her, then bury
my
tongue inside of her and move
from side to side. I steal a brief glance to her face and see that she i
s biting he
r lower lip, eyes clenched tight. She reaches down, grabs hold of my ponytail and forces
my head harder
into her cunt. Joy’s hand moves
deeper inside of me, her tongue still working my clit. I
look down to Joy and find the opposite of Sarah’s expression. Joy’s eyes a
re ope
n wide, taking it all in. I feel
the room grow hotter and my pussy begin to pulse.

Joy moves in a rhythm now, there’s an intensity that increases every time she fucks me with her fingers, then lessens on the retreat. With each thrust in she moves harder against me,
then
softens again on the way out before repeating. She’s not fucking me hard or soft, but both at once. The way she moves in and out of me lets my body come down for a moment before taking it again as she pushes her way deeper. All the while, her tongue still plays with my clit and her eyes are still on me.

The effect of Joy underneath me is so overwhelming that I have to fight to keep my orgasm at bay. I decide to use the same technique on Sarah. As I feel Joy fucking me, I concentrate on transferring those movements into Sarah’s cunt. The three of us move in the same rhythm now, Joy fucks me and as she fucks me, I take it but also give it to Sarah. Our threesome surges forward hard, then backs of
f
soft, and again with increasing intensity.

Sarah begi
n
s a soft hum, which I ta
k
e as a sign that she’s close. I
continue to follow Joy’s lead, to stay with her pace, until Sarah reaffirms her grip on my ponytail
.
She clenches it hard as she reaches
orgasm,
the soft hum in her throat growing louder.
She bucks
her hips against me
and I take my fingers out of her pussy, burying my face into her again. The muscles in her vagina contract and I push back against them with my tongue. Her entire body is taut, flexed and flushed. As she co
me
s down from orgasm and brings
her
hips to rest on the mat, I feel
Joy, feeling me from the inside.
She still has the perfect momentum going, this delicious rhythm to her fucking me that I never want to end. Sarah scoots out from under me and stands. I’m still on all fours, Joy working diligently beneath me. Sarah walks around
behind me, standing over my ass. Joy is bringing me closer and Sarah joins in. I can’t see her, but I feel a single wet fingertip begin tracing light circles around my asshole.

“You like that, you little bitch?” Sarah asks. No one has said a word up until now, so this catches me off guard.
As does being called a ‘little bitch.’”

“Yeah, I do like it,” I say with what little breath I have.
Her finger is cool with saliva and she starts dipping just the tip of it in my ass.

“Joy fucks so
good
, doesn’t she?” she asks.

“Yes,” I answer.
I glance down at Joy’s wide eyes, her mouth covering my clit, her hand working inside me.

“Joy’s going to keep fucking you and I’m going to finger your ass,” she says.
True to her words, Sarah’s finger explores deeper into my ass.
“We’re going to fuck you every which way and you’re going to come, you little bitch.”