The Magic of Yoga Pants

Hazel Dew stood behind Mia Richi at the barre and could not look away. The black fabric stretched tight across Mia’s round ass, the outline of every curve pressed clear against the sheen. Nata Paradise watched too, her own leggings already riding high between her thighs as she moved closer. She ran her palm over that same firm ass, feeling the warmth through the thin layer, then hooked her thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down with a slow, greedy drag. Mia’s bare skin came into view, and Nata pressed her mouth to the soft crease at the top of her cheek, tasting the faint salt that lingered from practice. Mia spread her stance and Nata answered by dragging her tongue lower, circling the tight rim, making her breath catch. Hazel stepped in on the other side and cupped Mia’s full cunt, sliding two fingers between the slick folds in one smooth motion. Mia’s hips tilted back to meet them, and the room filled with the soft, steady sounds of wet flesh and low breaths as fingers slipped deeper and tongues worked in smaller circles. The yoga pants stayed bunched at her knees, forgotten, while the three of them traded places—each taking a turn to press their mouths to another, tasting pussy and ass with equal hunger, until the studio smelled only of skin, sweat, and sex.