It doesn’t take long for an orgasm to shatter my existence.
When I’m whole again, Grogoth has climbed over me, resting lightly on his elbows. I giggle and kiss his nose, which then dips to nuzzle my neck.
“Two days ago, I would not have believed I would be here in your bed.”
“Me either,” I agree, allowing him to roll us to the side. He traces little loving lines around my cheek, through my hair, and over my collarbones, while I do the same, exploring each other for the first time. “It’s surreal.”
“Yes. But itisreal, hummingbird, and I will spend my days showing my gratitude for you.”
“You can start by making us tea.”
He clucks his tongue, a mischievous grin twinkling in his eyes. “You get your yoga mat and I’ll get the tea.”
My pussy flutters along with my heart and I nod emphatically. He kisses me with a passion I've never felt from anyone before, then rushes to the kitchen.
I laugh at his eager hustle and open my dresser drawer to make the same decision I've made for years. This time, however, there’s an unspoken promise behind it. Instead of stressing over the colors, I opt for a pair of simple black leggings and a sports bra, no panties.
Setting up in my living room, I decide to start with sun salutations, like always. Goddess, I’m excited. To stay body-safe, I’ll need to keep my breathing under control. I’ll have no choice but to not interfere or become involved with his play.
“Here you are, my lady,” he says as he places two teacups on the tea table.
“Thank you.”
For some reason, I struggle to make eye contact. Is it obvious I've been imagining this exact scenario for years?
“What’s on your mind, sweet one?” A firm hand comes to rest on my lower back. He tilts my chin up and searches my gaze. “If you don’t want to—”
I huff a laugh, cutting him off. “The opposite. I want this so much that it might be a little weird.”
A storm billows through his darkened pupils. He runs his hand up to my neck, threading my hair through his fingers in a sinful way, and tugs. I moan as he tilts my head back, my mouth falling open. He kisses me, deep and ravenous, his tongue snaking to my molars.
“Do not be ashamed of your desires, my naughty little hummingbird.” He takes my hand and guides it to the colossal bulge in his briefs. “For I desire them even more—just as you intended by all those torturous mornings in my garden, water witch.”
My core tingles. He’s right. This is exactly what I've been dreaming of.
At my change in attitude, he releases me and sits on the end of the couch, a spot where the tea table won't hinder his view. The butterflies in my stomach flitter about with flaming-hot wings that send my water magic into a simmer. I take a sip of tea before beginning.
I always repeat the sun salutation nine times. Mountain pose. Uttanasana to half forward bend. Plank. Chaturanga Dandasana. Cobra. Downward dog. Forward bend.
Through every step, I recognize the sensual parts of the dancelike flow. For the first couple of rounds, I force myself not to look his way. On my third downward dog, I chance a peek. He’s watching, expression unreadable, erection straining in his underwear. The tip of his gray cock leaks over his waistband, leaving a little kiss of clear liquid on his navel. He sits utterly still, one arm strewn across the back of the couch, the other holding a tight fist on the armrest.
By the final salutation, he has repositioned. Perched on the armrest with one foot propped on the tea table, the other grasps his cock over his underwear.
I pause in downward dog for an extra breath, collecting my thoughts for what to do next. Over the years, I've mentally logged all the sexiest positions. I’ve even made up multiple flows with said positions, shouldI ever find myself acting out my fantasies with the gardener. But now it’s real, and all those plans flew out of my cunt and into his mouth this morning, apparently. I have to wing it.
Hands planted before me, I widen my stance and lower onto my elbows, ass firmly in the air, staring directly at his upside-down form as I breathe.
“What is this one called?” He asks, his steady tone belying nothing of his desire.
“Straddle fold.”
He simply nods.
Next, I step my feet inward, back to downward dog. Then I lift my left leg high into the sky for a split. Back to downward dog, then my right leg goes up. Back in downward dog, I lower onto my forearms and rise onto my toes.
My vision zeroes in on his feet as he approaches, my heart beating faster than the bass at the Drunken Fern nightclub. Warmth crackles along my skin as he circles me like a predator toying with its prey. I can’t tell if he has a hand grazing my body or if I’m just that full of anticipation. It takes an extra grounding breath to move my left foot forward, bending over it into a pyramid pose, repeating on the right side.
To transition onto the mat, I decide on garland pose. Possibly not as sexy, but I once had a vision of him below me as I did this. Now aware of his detachable cocks, maybe . . .
