First Adjustments

The front door clicked shut behind Nate and he stood there in the entryway, gym bag still slung over his shoulder, not moving. His breathing was shallow and his shirt clung to his chest with sweat. Natalie looked up from the book she was reading on the couch and immediately knew something had shifted. His eyes had that glazed, faraway look she hadn't seen since their early dating days.

"How was class?" she asked, keeping her voice light.

Nate blinked like he was surfacing from deep water. "Good. Really good." He dropped his bag by the door and walked toward her, but stopped a few feet away, running a hand through his damp hair. "Tara worked with me one on one today. Private session."

"Oh yeah? How was that?" Natalie set her book down, suddenly alert.

He sat on the edge of the coffee table across from her, knees almost touching hers. "Intense. She's so specific about form. Like, she doesn't just tell you what to do. She puts you where she wants you." His voice dropped lower. "She was adjusting my hips in downward dog. Her hands were right on my hip bones, pulling them back and up. I could feel her breath on the back of my neck."

Natalie's stomach tightened. "That's normal for yoga, right? Hands-on adjustments?"

"Yeah, but not like this." Nate's eyes met hers and held. "She pressed her whole body against my back during forward fold. Her chest against my spine, her stomach flush to my lower back, her thighs pressed behind mine. She whispered in my ear to breathe deeper. I could smell her perfume. Something floral and sharp."

A hot flush spread across Natalie's chest. She didn't know what to do with it. "Did she touch you anywhere else?"

"She guided my shoulders back in warrior two. Ran her hands down my arms to position them. Her fingers traced my spine during cat-cow, counting each vertebra like she was memorizing me." He swallowed hard. "And during pigeon pose, she knelt behind me and pressed her hips into mine to deepen the stretch. Her hands were on my waist, pulling me back against her."

Natalie's mouth went dry. She should have been angry. Some part of her was. But there was this other thing rising in her chest, hot and curious and shameful in equal measure. She shifted on the couch cushion, feeling the dampness between her legs.

"Did you like it?" The question came out before she could stop it.

Nate's jaw worked. "I don't know. I mean, yes. But it felt wrong too. Like she was pushing past some line." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "When I was in child's pose, she lay on top of me. Her whole body weight pressing me into the mat. She put her mouth right next to my ear and told me to surrender to the stretch. I could feel her nipples through her top, hard against my back."

Natalie's breath caught. She imagined it: her husband on the mat, this woman draped over him, whispering. The image should have made her sick. Instead it made her thighs press together.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"Nothing. I just lay there and let her hold me down." He looked almost ashamed. "She counted to thirty. Then she got up like nothing happened and told me to roll up my mat."

Natalie stood up on unsteady legs. She walked toward the bedroom without saying anything, and Nate followed. She could feel him behind her, could feel the heat radiating off his body. In the bedroom she turned to face him.

"Show me what she did."

Nate's eyes darkened. He stepped behind her and pressed his body against her back, his hands coming to rest on her hips. "She had me in mountain pose first. Feet together, arms at my sides. She stood behind me and placed her hands on my waist, like this." His fingers dug into her hip bones gently. "Then she told me to ground through my feet while she lifted my hips up and back."

Natalie let him manipulate her body, let him position her the way Tara had positioned him. His breath was hot on her neck, just like he'd described. She could feel his cock pressing against her ass, already hard through his shorts.

"Then she moved me into forward fold." Nate's hands slid down her sides to her waist, and he bent her forward at the hips. "She pressed her chest against my back and told me to let my head hang." He leaned into her, his chest against her shoulder blades, his hips against her ass. "I could feel every part of her. She was so warm. So deliberate."

His hands slid up her ribs, his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts. Natalie's hands gripped the edge of the dresser. Her body was responding in ways that confused her. She was wet, soaking through her underwear, and she could feel her nipples straining against her bra. The jealousy was still there, a sharp ache behind her sternum, but it was tangled up with something else. Something hungry.

"Touch me," she whispered.

Nate's hands slid around her waist and up to her breasts. He cupped them through her shirt, his thumbs finding her nipples and circling them slowly. "She told me I had good form. Said I was responsive to touch." He pressed his cock against her ass harder, grinding against her. "Said she wanted to work with me regularly."

"Are you going to?" Natalie's voice was thin.

"I don't know. Do you want me to?"

She should say no. She should tell him to find a different instructor, a normal one who didn't press her body against married men and whisper in their ears. Instead she said, "I want to know what else she does."

Nate turned her around and kissed her. It was different from their usual kisses, harder, more desperate, his teeth catching her lower lip. His hands went to the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, and she raised her arms to let him take it off. He unclasped her bra and let it fall, then bent to take her nipple in his mouth.

Natalie gasped and arched into him. His mouth was hot and slick, his tongue flicking across the sensitive tip before he sucked gently, pulling her nipple between his lips. She fumbled with his belt, with the button of his jeans, needing him naked, needing to feel his skin against hers. She shoved his shorts down and wrapped her hand around his cock, feeling him pulse in her grip.

"Tell me more," she breathed against his ear. "Tell me exactly what she did."

Nate groaned and pulled back just enough to pull his shirt over his head. "She had me in a hip opener. Lying on my back, knees bent, feet together. She knelt between my legs." He pushed Natalie back onto the bed and settled between her thighs. "She pressed my knees toward the mat. Opened my hips wider. Her face was so close to my crotch I could feel her breath on my skin through the fabric."

His hand slid down her stomach and between her legs. His fingers found the wetness soaking through her yoga pants and he groaned. "You're so wet."

"Keep talking." Natalie lifted her hips so he could pull her pants down, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. "What did she look like down there? Between your legs?"

Nate hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and dragged them down her thighs. "Focused. Hungry. She kept her eyes on me while she pressed my knees open wider." He ran his fingers through her slick folds, teasing, spreading her wetness. "She asked me if I could feel the stretch. Her voice was so low I almost couldn't hear her."

Natalie's hips bucked when his thumb found her clit. He circled it slowly, maddeningly, while his other hand traced up her inner thigh. "Did she touch you? There?"

"No. Not yet." He pushed one finger inside her, curling it upward, and Natalie cried out. "But she looked at me. Right in the eyes. And she smiled like she knew exactly what she was doing to me. Like she knew I was getting hard."

"Were you?" Natalie's voice was barely a whisper.

"God, yes. I was trying so hard to hide it. But she kept pressing my knees open wider, and her face was right there, and I couldn't..." He added a second finger, thrusting them in and out with a slow, deliberate rhythm. "I couldn't stop it."

Natalie reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock again. It was thick and hot in her grip, the head slick with precum. She stroked him in time with his fingers, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that felt like confession.

"What would you do," Natalie breathed, "if she touched you?"

Nate's rhythm stuttered. "I don't know."

"Would you let her?"

He thrust his fingers deeper, harder, his thumb grinding against her clit. "I don't know."

"I think you would." Natalie was panting now, her hips rolling against his hand. "I think you'd let her do whatever she wanted. I think you'd lie there and let her take your cock out and touch you and you wouldn't stop her."

"Natalie..."

"I think you'd let her put her mouth on you." She was saying things she'd never imagined saying, words coming from somewhere deep and dark inside her. "I think you'd watch her swallow you and you'd think of me."

Nate groaned and pulled his hand away. Natalie whimpered at the loss, but then he was positioning himself between her legs, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, both of them groaning at the sensation. She was so wet he slid in easily despite how tight she was, how she clenched around him.

"What would you do," Natalie breathed when he was fully inside her, "if she fucked you?"

Nate's hips jerked. "Jesus, Natalie."

"Would you let her? Would you let her ride you on that mat?"

He pulled back and thrust in hard, burying himself to the hilt. "I don't know. I don't know."

"I think you would." Natalie wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "I think you'd let her do whatever she wanted. And I think you'd come inside her and then come home and tell me everything."

Nate buried his face in her neck and fucked her harder, his breath coming in hot, ragged bursts against her skin. His hips snapped against hers with each thrust, the sound of their bodies meeting obscenely loud in the quiet bedroom. Natalie's mind was spinning with images: her husband on the yoga mat, the red-haired instructor draped over him, her hands on his body, her mouth at his ear. The jealousy was still there, sharp and real. But underneath it was something else, something that made her clench around his cock and cry out.

"Tell me you're mine," she gasped. "Tell me."

"I'm yours," Nate groaned. "I'm yours, I'm yours."

"Even if she touches you?"

He lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes dark and wild. "Even then. Especially then."

Natalie pulled him down for a kiss, swallowing his moans as he thrust into her. She could feel herself building toward something, the pressure coiling low in her belly, tightening with each stroke. "Don't stop," she breathed. "Don't stop, don't stop."

Nate shifted his angle, grinding against her clit on each downstroke. Natalie's nails dug into his shoulders. She was so close, so close, her body trembling on the edge.

"I want to watch," she said, the words tumbling out. "I want to watch her touch you. I want to see her hands on you. I want to see your face when she makes you come."

Nate's rhythm broke. He slammed into her, once, twice, three times, and then he was coming, his whole body shuddering as he spilled himself inside her. The feeling of him pulsing, the heat of him flooding her, pushed Natalie over the edge. She came with a sob, her body convulsing around him, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through her.

They lay tangled together, breathing hard, the sweat cooling on their skin. Nate's weight pressed her into the mattress, his cock still inside her, softening. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

Finally Nate rolled to the side, pulling her with him so they were facing each other. His hand came up to cup her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.

"What was that?" he asked softly.

Natalie shook her head. She didn't have an answer. She didn't understand what had come over her, what was still moving through her. "I don't know. But I don't want it to stop."

After a long moment, she spoke again. "I want to meet her."

Nate tensed beside her. "What?"

"I want to come to your next session. Just to watch." She turned her head to look at him. "I want to see what she does."

He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, "Okay."

Natalie closed her eyes and felt the confusion settle into something like anticipation. She didn't understand what was happening to her. She only knew that some door had opened, and she was already walking through it.