EMMA

I walked across the grass carrying my rolled-up mat, the late afternoon sun hitting my back and making my skin prickle. Twenty-four years old and already hooked on this stupid weekly class. My black leggings hugged every curve, the fabric stretched so tight I felt it with every step. No underwear underneath. I never wore any for these sessions anymore. The seam pressed right against my shaved pussy, and by the time I reached my usual spot near the front, I was already damp.

These classes always leave me soaked, I thought, unrolling the mat. It’s the poses. It’s him.

Marcus stood at the top of the group like...