Arousing and sensual naughty sex on an outdoor table

"And now we enter our final pose: Sarvasana," Zeke said in his deep voice.

I lay down, spreadeagled on my cerise yoga mat and breathed deeply. This was my favourite part of the class I attended every Saturday morning with the luscious yogi, Zeke. His crinkly kind eyes and open demeanour had brought me in to try his weekly sessions, but it was his thoughtful attention to the students that had kept me there. It was a tough class with lots of inversions, and handsome Zeke was always on hand to help adjust postures and gently offer corrections. His flawless toned body and broad shoulders certainly helped matters too.

The first time he had used his big hands to straighten my wobbles, Zeke had asked if it was OK to touch me. I'd never had a teacher be hands-on like that, so I hadn't known how it would sit with me, but I loved it. There was something hugely attractive about the way he was so sure in his touch, and I'd luxuriated in the heat of his hands too, like a kitten unfurling into pleasure. Maybe this was why my crush on him had developed to the point it was almost painful—though in a delicious, desiring way.

Zeke touching me each class, made me ache with need in my nether regions and it resulted in the final pose of Sarvasana being a time of lurid fantasy for me. I thought about Zeke's green eyes focusing on my body—and imagined he used this quiet time to stare at my lithe form without being caught. I'd started dressing more and more provocatively each week too, with short-shorts or leggings that ran mesh panels right up to the crotch and backless crop tops that didn't exactly hide my non-sports-bras.

Today I had dressed in a dusky pink bralet that was all lace and promises, peeking through the sheer ivory of my vest. My belly-button piercing shone from under the knotted top and all that bare flesh enticed looks. Against my raven-dark hair, which I wore long and loose, the contrast of my clothing's light shades looked almost virginal. I loved the contradiction that these alluring, revealing wisps of fabric I wore, which were barely holding me in were designed in such girly, innocent colours.

"Take a deep breath," Zeke instructed—disturbing my illicit thoughts of his hard body intertwined with mine. "This is your time."

He went around the room, laying fluffy towels on us. It really was my favourite part of the class; tender and sexy all at once, to be draped in comfort like this by a man. I'd never really experienced that before. Sensual loving care and attention. Sure, I'd had various relationships and plenty of earth-shattering sex, but never with a man who didn't think the sun revolved around him and his own needs.

Zeke seemed different from my ex-partners—at ease with himself, lacking machismo and not in the least threatened by working in a female environment, where often people assumed he wasn't hetero. I knew he was, though. In one of my early sessions, I'd heard him explain to another student how he'd first gotten into teaching yoga because his late wife had loved it so. His late wife, whom I cared not a whit about, made it seem like Zeke was attainable like he was a real person. It put a chink in his delightful, muscled torso-armour.

Maybe that's what made me swoon over him; he was simply a strapping, handsome widower who just needed some distraction from his lonely thoughts.

I peeked to see where in the room Zeke had reached with his towel-draping. He was nearly at my line of mats, so I closed my eyes quickly and evened my breathing as he approached. I could smell his skin, it was like musk and ripening fruit—such an unusual scent for a man, but somehow seductive. Zeke slowly covered my half-naked body and laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I had noticed that not everyone received that extra touch and it made me seem special, seen by him for something else.

I hadn't been particularly skilled at yoga when I started attending Zeke's classes a few months ago, but perhaps my Eastern heritage had proved useful—as I quickly picked up poses, even the harder ones which required real looseness. It turned out that I had a natural flexibility which went beyond my rowdy bedroom antics, and I'd warmed to the yogic practice as a way of keeping me focused. It also helped in filling out my weekends and evenings which looked a bit anaemic after my last boyfriend, Harry, had sulkily moved out. His loss, as the flat we had just moved into together was amazing in its design, and had a central 'secret' courtyard instead of a garden. It was almost Roman in look, and it allowed me to flex my design impulses, especially with regards to colour and plant decor.

I'd been working on developing my green thumb and it gratified me to focus on growth, rather than the lack I was now sensing, especially sexually. I could say what I wanted about Harry and his frustrating moods, but he had definitely kept my interest in the bedroom—and in the other places that we had liked to fool around. I'd always enjoyed a slightly risqué approach to our fucking, and we'd hit a lot of my bucket-list locations in fulfilling my fantasies.

Some of my favourite memories centred around outdoor naughtiness: the windy secluded beach in Tenerife, the large balcony we'd abused in the Cotswolds. Maybe Harry and I should have stayed together longer, just so that we could have made more use of our new courtyard. It was so discreet; there aren't that many places you can be outdoors frolicking, and have nobody around to watch you. Not that I minded showing off…

Click here to listen to my new audio porn stories...

LOVE SLAVE - Audio

0:00 16:33

Now Sarvasana was nearly over and the other women began shifting, getting ready to zip off to other activities. The room was soon full of lycra-clad bodies moving quickly and efficiently. I was in no rush though. I waited until close to the end of the exodus and ambled over to Zeke who was picking up the last stray yoga blocks, giving me a great view of his ass.

"Hey Katana," he said, in his light drawl. "Good session today?"

"The best—as always," I replied and twiddled a long strand of my poker-straight hair. God, I was a cliche. "Do you have your other class today? I didn't see it on the schedule."

I blushed a little, realising it looked like I was stalking his movements. Which I basically was, but he didn't need to know the full extent of my crush on him. He knew a bit though, which I could tell because he always looked a little sheepish when he was giving me extra attention in class—and his fingers always lingered a touch longer than they did on the other students. I saw he was attracted to me too, and his slow gaze certainly appreciated my slutty outfits, but I could tell he at least tried to hold back and be professional most of the time.

"Ah, yeah, I was meant to go to a wedding today, but it got called off," Zeke said. "Too late to get back on the schedule and teach my second class like I normally would."

He didn't look too sad about it though and his face grew a cheeky look. "Now I've got the whole Saturday afternoon free, I don't know what to do with myself."

Zeke grinned at me and widened his huge hands expansively as if to demonstrate how open his schedule was. "I was thinking about wandering over to that new gardening centre, though—New Shoots—on the High Road. Have you seen it?" he added.

My eyes lit up at this surprise discovery. "You like to garden too? I'm obsessive about it! I went to the opening gala there, it was amazing; they lit the whole thing up like some green oasis fairy-land."

I hoped I wasn't wittering on, but I was so pleased that we'd found a new interest in common. "I'm on their mailing list," I said. "They have great events scheduled all the time. In fact, I was planning on going to something there tomorrow night. Here, let me forward you the info."

I pulled out my phone and looked expectantly at Zeke. "What's your number?"

Zeke flushed, and glanced quickly outside the shiny glass windows of the yoga studio as if to see if anybody was looking.

"Let's walk out together," he suggested lightly. "We can chat more in the parking lot? Just give me five minutes to grab my stuff."

"Sure," I replied.

I hurried into the changing rooms, my face red with pleasure. Did that invitation mean what I thought it did? I quickly gave myself a once-over in the small mirror above the sinks. The colour was high in my cheeks and it looked good on me. Should I add a little make-up too? I delved into my purse and pulled out some BadGal lipstick. I applied the pink frosting with a firm hand and then ran some liner over my dark eyes. It definitely looked like I was trying, but that was OK. I can be bold when it comes to seduction.

When I saw Zeke waiting for me in the parking lot, my nipples twitched with anticipation. He looked even better in the fresh air, his green eyes sparkling in the bright daylight. He saw me approach and as I got closer, his face took on a new look—a slightly wolfish stare. His stubble made him look dangerous too, now the softness of the yoga studio lighting had been stripped away.

Zeke smiled, he knew I'd applied the make-up for him. I looked down at his crotch as we stood in front of each other, and in that purposeful movement, it was all laid bare. I had a vivid flash-forward, to him bending me over a rough wooden table and a sexy surge spread throughout my pussy. I wanted this man, and I had for a long time—I was tired of waiting, tired of the weekly flirtation. It was time for action.

"Hey, maybe you can come by mine before going to the gardening centre? You could give me some advice on the, er, trellis I'm working on?" I asked shamelessly. I put as much innuendo and sex into my tone as I could manage.

Zeke raised an eyebrow at me. "Okay," he said—no hint of hesitation, which pleased me. "Where's your place?"

"Not far," I said. "Follow me," and I sashayed away before he could think twice.

We made it to mine in record time. As we approached my front door, I winked at him and he grinned back. I took Zeke swiftly through the living room and straight into the central courtyard which was already dappled in the sunshine and artful greenery.

"Take a look around," I said. I hoped he didn't notice that there wasn't actually any help needed with the plants. "I'll be just a minute."

I went back inside to grab us a snack. There was some fresh fruit left over from my morning breakfast and I brought it out, plated on a favourite crystal dish. Cherries, pink and glossy, were mixed in with some plump blueberries and heady chunks of watermelon. The fragrant fruit looked like sex on a plate and I was pleased with the visual.

Zeke was admiring my azalea bush as I slowly approached him from behind.

"Hungry?" I asked.

He turned to me then, with a clear question in his eyes, and I put the plate down, shaking a little. No need to drop that expensive crystalware.

There was a moment, when my breath caught, just a second before Zeke's searching mouth landed on mine. A split second of anticipation which made me flush from head to toe and got my panties instantly wet.

We took our time though, and kissed for sparkling minutes, tasting and luxuriating in each other's tongues. Zeke then turned my body around, away from him, keeping his arms possessively on my waist. He began kissing the back of my neck, the stubble grazing my skin much more sharply now. He was hungry.

His hands got more confident when he heard me moan in pleasure, and he pushed us closer to the garden table where I'd laid the fruit platter. There was a designer chair in the way but he neatly sidestepped it, as he bent me forward over the pine of the table; his hands moved up to my bare shoulders and began kneading firmly into the muscles there. I leaned into the glorious movement and arched my ass, exposing my smooth lower back.

It took me only seconds to pull my cropped ivory vest off, so that he could see more of my perfect skin. I was almost falling out of the bralet now, I was leaning so far forward onto the table. The wood was hard against the soft skin of my breasts and I wriggled a bit, enjoying the roughness of the table on my nipples which were happily escaping.

I whimpered as Zeke searched for more of me; he lifted his hands around the bottom of the pink lace and stroked my tits lightly from underneath, teasing. I wanted more, and it just made me bolder.

I swivelled around, taking him by surprise and then clambered backwards onto the table. I looked at Zeke, a challenge in my eyes, and lifted my lean legs up into the air. All the toned muscles of my ass and legs were visible to him, even through the taut fabric.

"Help me? I think I need an adjustment for this position," I said.

Zeke's eyes gleamed at the game I'd introduced and he grabbed my legs with both hands. First, he spread them wide, as if to recheck my flexibility and see what naughty fun was to be had. Then he pushed my legs back together and masterfully peeled off my mesh leggings—and my silk panties—in one swift movement. All I had left on my body then was a scrap of flimsy lace which no longer even hid my caramel-nubbed nipples. Zeke was still fully dressed in his gym gear but I didn't mind being the one on show. His time would come.

I watched his eyes as they moved along the table, just past my waiting body. The shining platter had caught his attention. He picked up a pair of cherries and placed the stalks in his mouth so that the round fruits dangled outside his lips provocatively. Zeke gave me a suggestive look and dipped his mouth close to my pussy, which clearly was already providing cream, ready for some racy action.

With slow, sweet movements he rubbed the shiny red orbs right into my crease. They were so plump and juicy and combined with the heat of his mouth, the sensation was incredible. I was about to lose my mind with how sexy the whole scene looked too. I loved aesthetically pretty things. My milky skin, the pinkness of my pussy and the deep magenta of the fruit were all indecently delicious. I let Zeke tease me for a moment further with the smooth, succulent cherries and he rubbed them over my clit which had been peeking out for a while now, eager to be involved in the fun.

"Suck me," I ordered, and he quickly obliged. Oh yes… His warm, wet mouth directly on me was like heaven and it sent pleasure through my rippling core. Zeke's hands both rested on my taut stomach but I grabbed them, luring them higher up my body, wanting some nipple play. I stole the fruit from him, to free up his fingers, and held it up to my face, smelling my own ripe nectar on it. I wanted to squeeze it and make a little pattern on my body with the sweet redness that came forth, to make everything even prettier.

But maybe there was another option, a juicier one. I wriggled my hand backward to the platter and picked up a soft chunk of watermelon, which I ran across my arched body. My fingers were wet with its purée and I licked them slowly, whilst looking at Zeke to get his reaction. I loved turning men on with my ridiculous antics. His pupils were dilated and his sucking on my clit slowed as he watched me slather myself in more of the messy fruit cocktail.

"Clean me up?" I asked mischievously. He moved his face up my waiting body and started licking with eager movements, like an animal lapping at me. I loved being so clearly the object of desire. I let him finish and then sucked on his face in return, enjoying the sweetness of it all.

Zeke's clothes were getting mucky, so I lifted up his once-white tank and finally exposed his beautiful torso. That eight-pack was so impressive, I wanted to leave bite marks all over him, as well as the sticky fruit juice. His lycra shorts were harder to remove, as his throbbing cock was leaving very little space to manoeuvre around. But eventually, I got him off the table, naked and on display; I stood back a second to appreciate him. He was a sexy beast, even covered gloopily with my colourful markings.

I then led Zeke by the hand, over to the circle of bright grass that centred my courtyard and shoved him to the ground. It looked like something of a sacrificial altar as I lay on top of him, marked in red stains. I matched my limbs directly on his so that from above we'd look like the outline of just one person; I liked the elemental symbolism of it. More fruit was needed. I placed some watermelon in my mouth, leaving enough of it peeking out so that Zeke could eat from the same piece. The juices ran down our chins and gathered between our bodies, melding us together in nature.

God, I loved the fact that we were outdoors, with the sun on my ass and the fragrance of jasmine in front of me, mixing with our own scents. I turned my head a little so I could see our little tableau better. The cerulean blue of the sky and the green of his eyes made me a little dizzy. Or it could have been his thick cock which was doing that, as it teased at my thighs, playing a little game of hide and seek.

I wanted to straddle that maypole of his. Sitting up, I grabbed the gleaming head of his shaft, making him wait, torturing him, as I guided only an inch of it inside me at a time. He was making all sorts of grunts as I sucked him in with my body. I loved riding men in this position, leading them slyly into my party trick, where I span 180 degrees right into reverse cowgirl. It helped to be light and supple for this manoeuvre and I loved showing my skills off. As he built some momentum, I went for it, and twisted my body, swinging my shiny hair around. I heard Zeke groan even louder in surprise and delight.

Yes, fuck, this was perfect; I screwed him at my pace, doing whatever I wanted, clawing at his thighs. I was abandoned and wild and out of control. I pulled my pink bralet off dramatically and swung it around my head like an old-time lasso. It whizzed to the corner of my courtyard, and landed proudly atop a rose bush, while I bucked around freely and squeezed Zeke with all my might, wishing I had an audience to applaud me. I was riding to orgasm now, mewling with pleasure and I could tell he was losing control of his rhythm also.

After another few thrusts, we finally climaxed together in a loud, sticky mess and I took pleasure in his panting; I'd worked him hard. I watched as the rise and fall of his chest slowed. It had almost been as good as my Sarvasana fantasies, but there were certainly more positions to explore. Smirking at him, I said, "Don't forget, we still have some blueberries to play with…"

Ends