Honey Flava

“Next time, you may choose the poses, the actions. This is my day to educate. Lesson three: Always obey your instructor.”

I pointed toward his dampened penis. “Do I get that next?”

“Roll over and lift your hips.”

“That’s not an answer,” I grumbled, ordering my weak limbs to obey. I positioned myself as he’d directed, placing my hands and knees on the mats, stretching my spine and angling my butt high in the air, hoping he’d take the hint. I heard a muffled cough. Taek? Or someone else witnessing my descent into decadent debauchery?

God, I was turned on by the thought. I ignored the doorway and looked toward the mirrored wall, focusing on our reflections. The sight of Taek standing behind me, stroking his erection as he admired the view of my ass, made my eyes widen. “‘Chaotic action is preferable to orderly inaction,’” I said to our reversed images.

He playfully slapped his cock on my rump. “Confucius?”

I flicked my hips, seeking the tip of his rod with my wet mound. “Will Rogers. Another great—” I gasped when he knelt behind me and circled my entrance, teasing me, taunting me. “Philosopher! God, will you get on with it?”

I tried to lower myself against the head of his cock, but he moved, keeping out of reach. Keeping me dancing to his tune. “Where’s the tequila when I need it?”

Taek leaned forward, blanketing my back with his hard chest, and intertwined his left hand with mine, tangling our fingers. His erection nudged between my thighs. I held still this time and gritted my teeth, praying he’d reward my patience.

“To prolong the anticipation is to prolong the pleasure,” he whispered hotly against my ear.

My lower body hummed so fiercely, my heart beat so ferociously, I feared he was right. “Confucius?”

“No, that’s all Taek Dae Yang and so is this.” Taek rammed in to the hilt, filling me completely, indulging my self-indulgent side better than any vibrator on the market.

“Smart man—that—Yang.” My words came out in staccato spurts as he methodically pounded inside me, driving so deep I almost slipped off the edge of the mats.

I rocked my hips, bucking against his groin, hoping to encourage him to speed up, but he only slowed the long, controlled—did I say long?—rhythmic glides of his penis. He continued thrusting in and out of my sheath with excruciating stamina. I arched into him, practically purring. “I need you to go faster,” I panted, feeling another orgasm hovering, just out of reach. “But, oh, God—don’t stop what you’re doing.” My insides fluttered, twitched, clasped around his plunging dick like it was a lifeline. “It’s incredible…my lips are going numb…can’t feel…my toes…”

And I just kept undulating beneath the forceful, penetrating thrusts whose speed he never varied.

Taek’s right hand slid up my stomach, past my collarbone and neck, and he lifted my chin until I was staring at him in the mirror. I trembled, seeing my reflection. Was that me?

The female with the wide, uncertain eyes, face flushed with passion, entire body quivering…kneeling in an unfamiliar position of submission, under the direction and control of the soft-spoken Asian who quoted Socrates and wielded his erect member as if it should be insured by Lloyd’s of London?

“Last and final lesson of the day. ‘It does not matter how slowly you go, so long as you do not stop.’”

“Oh, God, don’t stop.”

He tilted my face until we were staring at each other, no longer using the mirror as a buffer. Twin rivulets of sweat dripped from his temples and edged alongside his nose. His full lips touched mine, then retreated. “I won’t, if you won’t. And that was Confucius.”

And then his mouth took mine. Grinding my lips against my teeth, he pushed his tongue inside and I gorged myself on it, loving the spicy flavor…my first taste of him. He groaned low in his throat and his hips jerked, forcing his cock even higher inside me. I bit down on his tongue and reared against him, my thighs trembling with the need to straighten. Both my hands went between my legs, where I touched myself, feeling his cock as it slid in and out of my body. My fingers tangled around my clit and I screamed, coming so hard I saw spots—white spots that whirled before my eyes.

His tongue slid from my mouth, scraping against my top teeth. He smiled at me and drove higher, straightening his back and legs and literally lifting me off the mat with his arms wrapped beneath my breasts. I felt the rush of his release as it bathed the areas he’d so recently pummeled.

My arms fell to my sides. I stared again at the mirror, gazing at the exotic man who held me. Now I really needed that drink.

“No worries, you are definitely ready for my intermediate class.” His words were a bit unsteady, I was pleased to note. “But I’d rather tutor you in private.”

My mind was slow on the uptake, but his meaning finally penetrated. “Private lessons? Won’t that be expensive?”

“I’m sure we can agree upon a trade; perhaps my instruction in exchange for your willingness to learn?” He stood and slipped from between my legs, then turned me to face him. I gripped his shoulders, trying to ignore the throbbing in my loins and formulate an answer.

Was I willing to trade my body for yoga lessons? It sounded good to me, but I did have some pride. “Is that an offer you make to all of your students?”

“Only the ones whose eyes follow me for seven long weeks before they ever say a word.” He traced my eyebrow with his index finger. “Only the ones who quote philosophers and have the courage to get naked in the studio, where anyone could walk in.”

“And how many have there been? That do all of that?”

“Counting you?” He slid his hand down my back and teased my bare bottom. “Only two.”