I got this condo. Gay porn From numb hookups. My lips tingled. Held it like it was fragile. My hamstrings are planning a walkout.”Class started slow—lunges, cat-cows, twists that made my thighs shake more from nerves than effort. Clean. Long enough folks stopped asking, and we stopped correcting. A little more aware.That moment burned in my head—him, locked, watching, acting like he didn’t want to be seen.He didn’t know it, but he’d already said plenty.That night, I lay in bed, thinking about the shape of his mouth. Just a touch.And I knew something had started. OwenThe text came after lunch: Glass of wine later? Stretching by the mirrored wall, barefoot, track pants slung low, shirt hugging a body carved from years of hauling folks out of fires.He’s new to my mornings. Didn’t make it less real. Not a trance, but something older. Like I’d been stretched in some quiet way.The sheets were damp.I sat up slow, body tight, thighs sticking faintly from dried slick. A rhythm—morning checks, clean lock, private ache. I leaned in, murmured, “Still okay?”He nodded again, breath hitching. “What you’re giving me—it’s more honest than anything.”He shivered, body arching toward my touch.“Doing real good,” I said, stroking behind the cage, soft and sensitive.
