WET [Part 2 - Sun Salutation]

My summer at the adults-only water park…

My first official assignment was handing out bottles of water at the yoga class. Not exactly the exciting start to my new job I’d pictured, but I figured they always gave the easy tasks to the newbies. I didn’t mind too much. The sun was warm on my face and I had a great view of the lagoon. The smell of sweat and incense was already in the air, and if it wasn’t for my uniform, I could almost believe I was on vacation too.

Yorgos, the yoga instructor, arrived not long after me. His sun-bleached blond hair was tied back in a messy bun, his beard somehow rugged and manicured at the same time. His body looked like it had been carved from marble. Not my type, but I understood the appeal. I’d been informed by Mara that the yoga classes were particularly popular with the women, and now I think I understood why.

As he set down his bag on the other side of the pavilion, he greeted me with a friendly wave, which I returned, despite feeling slightly embarrassed by how little his shorts left to the imagination. I continued to stand by the ice buckets with my hands behind my back, feeling a little ornamental, unsure if I should go and speak to him. I was still wondering when the women began to arrive.

And boy was it was hard not to notice how stunning they all were.

First out was a petite, athletic blonde, her body compact and tight and built for stamina. Her outfit was a stark, electric blue, a tiny bralette top showcasing the flat, taut plane of her stomach and the delicate lines of her ribcage. I was still marvelling at her abs when behind her came a tall brunette wearing a too-small sports bra that struggled to contain the full, heavy weight of her breasts. Next up, two redheads, possibly sisters, both with voluptuous, hourglass figures, giggling as they walked. One pointed at Yorgos setting up his gear and the other one shushed her.

Before long, the place filled out, sixteen mats laid out on the decking, each one inhabited by a woman more beautiful than the last. I suddenly understood why Rose resented the uniform.

“Welcome, beautiful souls,” Yorgos began, bringing his hands together in prayer. “Today, we will find our fire. We stoke the flame within. Let us start by grounding ourselves in this beautiful paradise. Breathe with me. ”

The cynic within me fought my instincts to roll her eyes. Instead, I listened to the collective inhale of the women and watched as the class began, bodies flowing from downward dog to upward dog, a sea of spines arching and pelvises tilting. The soft thud of bare feet filled the air, underscored by Yorgos’ soft and encouraging instructions. He patrolled the spaces between them, his hands guiding a hip a little higher, a shoulder more level. They thanked him with closed eyes and red faces, guttural moans escaping their lips. Mara was right. The women fucking loved him.

“Let it go, Elena,” he murmured, his hand resting on the pelvis of a woman as she folded backward. “Breathe into space. Do not overthink. Communicate with your body.”

He pushed down a little harder, lifting her hips, her breasts rocking back against her chest. Her response was a long, shuddering sigh that sounded suspiciously like pleasure rather than excursion.

“Open your legs wider for me, Amani,” he whispered to a woman in the next row. “That’s it. Trust the movement. Don’t resist it…” A moment of silence as Amani did as she was told. “Yes, that’s it, Amani. You are a goddess. Feel how strong you are in this position.”

He continued to move across the rows in this way, adjusting, directing, and encouraging. Standing at the back with my bottles of water, I was basically invisible, and, as the class progressed and the heat of the morning sun beat down on the pavilion, I watched, fascinated, as the women submitted to him one by one, the session taking on an almost erotic tension.

And then there was Isabella.

She looked a little older than the others–mid-thirties maybe–but her body spoke of discipline. From my vantage point, I could see the play of muscles in her back as she moved, the way her hamstrings tightened with each forward fold. Her eyes were closed, and as soon as Yorgos turned his focus to her, she licked her lips, a nervous, hungry gesture that betrayed the calm, meditative facade of her capable body.

“Very good, Isabella. But I need you to go deeper…” Yorgos said, moving to stand behind her as the class transitioned into a series of lunges. His hands came to rest on her hips, guiding them, squaring them. Her body seemed to tremble at his touch. “Yes. Good. Feel that stretch. Open your heart to the sun. Here.” His voice was low, his instruction for her and her only. “Press back against me. Feel my support.”

She did as he asked, pressing her hips back into his hands. He mirrored her pose, pressing himself against her for stability. A low moan escaped her lips and her eyes fluttered open, but they weren’t focused on the lagoon in front of her. They were glazed over, hazy with a pleasure that went far beyond a simple muscle stretch.

Yorgos held the position, his hands firm on her hips, his body a solid presence behind her. The rest of the class continued around them, a sea of oblivious motion, but a small pocket of intense energy had formed around the two of them. Isabella was breathing heavily now, her chest rising and falling, her nipples hard and visible beneath her sports bra, her hair stuck to her temples. He tightened his grip on her hips, moving his fingers inward slightly. Her tongue came out again, sweeping slowly across her bottom lip once more. She looked like she was fighting for her life.

“Let my breath be your guide,” Yorgos instructed, his voice gentle but firm, hypnotic yet direct. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, squeezing and massaging and holding her in position. “Let it move through you. In and out. In and out. Feel the fire building inside you. Can you feel it, Isabella?”

“Yes…” she managed.

“Are you ready to let it go? Will you allow me to do that for you?”

She nodded frantically. “Yes. Please.”

He nodded solemnly in understanding, his hands sliding upward from her hips, tracing a slow, deliberate path up her sides. “Isabella…” he whispered, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin below her breasts. “Release.”

That was all it took.

Isabella’s body convulsed; a violent spasm; a deep, rolling shudder that started in her hips and traveled up her spine. Her back arched sharply, a choked gasp tearing from her throat. Her hands flew to her mouth, as if to stifle the sound, but it was too late. Her knees buckled, and she would have fallen if Yorgos hadn’t been there, his arm instantly wrapping around her waist to hold her up. He held her for a long moment as she trembled against him, her face buried in his shoulder, her body riding out the waves of her orgasm.

When she finally stilled, he gently helped her straighten up, his hands never leaving her. He said nothing, just gave her a small, knowing smile before moving on to the next person as if nothing had happened. Isabella, meanwhile, lowered herself to her mat, lying on her back, one arm thrown over her eyes. Her chest was still heaving, and beneath her hands, I thought I could see her smiling.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding in my chest, my own body flushed. I realized I was holding my breath, and let it out in one long slow exhale. I had just witnessed a woman have an orgasm in the middle of a yoga class, surrounded by people. She lingered on her mat for a moment longer before pushing herself upright, standing up and walking toward me. I looked down at my feet instinctively, embarrassed I had just watched her cum.

“Water, please.”

I remembered why I was there, reaching into the bucket and pulling out a bottle. I wiped the droplets with a towel and handed it to her. For a brief second, our eyes met, and she gave me a small, knowing smile there. I felt myself return it before I could think better of it. Then she twisted the cap, took a long drink, and slipped quietly back toward her mat while Yorgos continued speaking as though nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened.

I watched her go, rejoining the class as if nothing had happened, and I realized, with a jolt that was both terrifying and exhilarating–not to mention a little shameful–that I was already enjoying my time at Azure.

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