Namaste Overload

Musa Phoenix walks into his first yoga class still buzzing he actually got the license. Five women already waiting. Lolly Dames, Caitlin Bell, Dana Vespoli, Sophia West, Spencer Scott. All of them big names around town. Nail this and his phone’s gonna ring for weeks. Their smiles hit a little different, though. Too bright. Too long. Like they’re sizing him up for dinner. He drops his mat, clears his throat, tries to run them through the usual warm-up. Arms up. Breathe in. Hips square. Hard to focus when five pairs of eyes are glued to his ass every time he turns. They’re supposed to be stretching, but the way they move looks more like an audition. Caitlin’s the first to crack. She slides in close on the next pose, tits brushing his forearm, asking if he’s flexible too. Lolly snickers, folds forward so deep her shorts ride up past the point of polite. Dana smirks from the back row, palms flat on the floor, but her gaze locked on the growing outline in his shorts. By downward dog they’ve dropped the act. Hands grab, squeeze, tug. Someone’s already palming his cock through the thin fabric. Musa stutters, half protest, half laugh, then gives in when Sophia drops to her knees and frees him in one smooth motion. They circle like it’s open season: stroking, licking, trading him mouth to mouth, pushing him onto his back on the mat. Yoga turns into a sweaty pile-up. Lolly’s thick thighs straddle his face while Dana sinks down on his cock, hips snapping. Caitlin and Sophia pin his wrists, feeding him tits, biting his neck, calling the rhythm. Spencer’s got two fingers working her own pussy, cheering them on, waiting her turn. Door creaks. Nick Strokes freezes, mat still rolled under his arm. For a second nobody moves except Dana’s hips still grinding. Then Lolly waves him in like they ordered take-out. “Don’t just stand there, handsome—get that dick over here.” Nick drops the mat without looking, shorts already tenting, and steps into the circle as greedy hands reach for fresh meat.