Compromising Positions

Ryan and Daisy showed up expecting Penny to be dressed for drinks. Instead she opened the door in tight yoga gear, her body clearly outlined under the fabric. She wanted to open a studio, she said, and needed help. They’d heard the pitch before. Ryan and Daisy remembered the last three half-baked projects that ended in bills and apologies, so neither of them was ready to sign on again. Penny swore she’d done the research, then folded herself into a downward dog that pulled the shorts taut across her ass. Their attention sharpened. When she moved into a wide-legged stretch, the outline of her nipples pressed against the bra. Ryan licked her lower lip without thinking. Daisy’s hand slid along the inside of Ryan’s thigh while they both kept their eyes on Penny. The next pose had her arching her back and pushing her chest forward. Ryan nudged Daisy with her elbow and they traded a silent look, then started coaching Penny to tilt her hips, bend deeper, arch more. They wanted the stretch that strained every seam. Penny caught the gleam in their eyes and straightened. “I see what you’re doing,” she snapped. Ryan met her stare. “We’ll help you this time, but we’re getting what we want. On the mat. Both of us. Right now.” Daisy’s fingers were already tracing the edge of Ryan’s waistband. Penny flushed, hesitated, then let her hands drift down her own thighs, the decision settling in the room like warm air.