Page 82 of Fifth Avenue Fling

She glances around the group as she circles her hips.

I’m entering dangerous territory. I wasn’t expecting yoga to be so sexual.

“Keep your back flat. Open your chest,” she instructs us. “Ugh. I am so tight today. How are you guys?”

Fuck.

You’re killing me, Clodagh.

Blood flows south without my permission to my thickening dick.

Jesus, not here.

Not in front of my daughter.

Some of the group answers her with seemingly innocent responses.

I didn’t realizeYoga with Clodaghwould provide the perfect conditions for unwanted public arousal. Which makes me a fool, considering I’ve been jerking off to her online videos.

Thank God Teagan chose to stay far away from me. She already thinks of me as an embarrassing dad. This would make her disown me, and I wouldn’t blame her.

We begin the first position, standing in a close-legged pose with our feet touching.

“Keep your back straight and go down into a chair pose.”

I blink. Where the fuck do I put my balls? Am I supposed to tuck them between my legs? They’re already starting to ache from my depraved thoughts.

I let out an involuntary groan, and Clodagh glances at me.

“Killian, you can separate your legs a few inches if you feel discomfort.”

She smiles at me, all sweet and innocent. “Good,” she purrs. “Well done, Killian.”

No one fucking tells me well done.

The sorceress contorts her body into positions that make it impossible for me not to become aroused.

Did she plan this?

Clenching my jaw, I swallow hard to keep control. Is yoga supposed to make your fucking balls ache like this? They’ve enough fuel in them to fly a plane.

“Now we’ll go into the bridge pose,” she says, the picture of tranquility. The opposite of me.

As Clodagh demonstrates the pose by lying on her back and thrusting her groin in the air, I realize that the bridge pose isn’t the best for hiding my massive erection.

Dammit. At least withdown dogor whatever it’s called, I could hide it.

“This is a great Kegel exercise,” the woman beside me helpfully explains with a wink.

I mutter expletives under my breath. I’m conditioned to think of sex in these scenarios.

I glance at the men, but the women are in the way. I can’t be the only pervert here.

Clodagh lowers herself to the ground and then leaps up.

“Keep going,” she calls out as she circles the group.

She stops to adjust one of the footballer’s feet. He grins back, delighted with the attention.

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