Yoga class.

This small story was born from the inspiration generated by @5contar, to whom I thank for their persistence and ordinariness. I hope you like it, just as much as I wrote it.

Quarantine.
Damn quarantine.
Double damn for singles who spend it alone, filled with absences. Prisoners of their own anxieties. Slaves to their carnal passions that don't find fluids to fill or empty them (depending on the case).

Day 27 of confinement he writes on his Facebook wall.
He's smoking too much and realizes it. His girlfriend left him three weeks ago via WhatsApp. On the other hand, I'm recovering something from my communication with my mother. He plays virtual games with virtual friends until midnight. He hasn't stopped wanking himself even for a day. Not even the release of premium content on Pornhub can put out the fire that's burning since his groin.

She takes things calmly. She lives those days as an opportunity to reconnect with herself. She went back to reading and yoga. Almost doesn't use virtual media. The joint relaxes her, although she knows she's exaggerating.

He rediscovers masturbation as a way to be friends with his body, which society insists on calling imperfect, and for her it's an inexhaustible source of pleasures. He's also exaggerating with the masturbation.

It's been 15 days since he stopped wearing underwear and shaving. He spends long hours touching himself and listening to music in the bathtub.

They live in one of those neighborhoods where modernity hasn't arrived yet, where there are still old houses, high ceilings, courtyards, balconies with moldings, and plants growing in the cracks of the stonework. Where everything is a little ruined and romantic.
At three floors below street level, their solitudes live alone, separated by a narrow street from the silent city. And until that afternoon, they didn't know about each other's existence.

She had been waiting for 30 minutes for it to be seven so she could light one up. She was barefoot and wearing a small short skirt that left her big breasts loose, which poked out a little above... axils. At the signaled hour he put on Jobim's Aguas de Marzo at a good volume and went out onto the balcony. He lit it, smoking with his forearms resting on the railing, looking at the empty asphalt. The night was placid and somewhat warm. He had bathed an hour ago. Neither had he put on underwear.

At 18:50 he turned off the computer. His eyes were burning and his throat felt rough from a thousand black cigarettes smoked during the day. There were remnants of mate, coffee, soda, and empty bags of fried potatoes and chocolate chip cookies on the desk. He was in leather and sweaty. He was wearing worn-out black jeans. He had forgotten to open the window and the air was thick in the room. He approached the old and enormous window, opening it fully by sliding two large glass panels apart. He breathed in the fresh air gratefully with his eyes closed. He listened to soft music from the other side of the street.

When he opened them again, he saw her.

Tangled red hair. Elbows resting on the railing. A colorful sole that poorly covered her loose breasts under the fabric. The balcony with a glass railing allowed him to see her body. He saw she was barefoot, her toenails painted a strong green. He liked her legs.

A little distracted, a little chubby. Very white skin. She was smoking.

She moved her body smoothly in time with the music. He felt like they were alone somehow. He liked being witness to that moment of intimacy with his neighbor.

His cock stopped under his pants.

She always liked listening to the final part of the song when Jobim and Elis Regina exchanged guttural sounds. It was fun and erotic for her. At this point, everything was erotic for him. And he saw her.

Tall, dark-haired man with a slightly grown beard. In leather, he had a good back. He liked his marked shoulders. He looked at her.

He didn't know why, but he stopped on her chest, on her thick and reddish nipples. It was smooth (or shaved, he thought). He still liked it.

He looked at her calmly, with kindness. She felt an electricity running through her body and her nipples getting hard. She finished the song, lit a joint, and was already hot again. Her neighbor's gaze put her on edge and she wanted to touch herself again. She had planned to do some yoga before eating. Then she had an idea that heated her up so much she felt her juices flowing from her cunny.

She liked the idea of showing off to her neighbor. Heating him up. It had been a long time since she'd last heated anyone up and she felt like she could blow his mind, the unknown guy in front of her.

He saw her finish smoking and stay there for a few minutes, occasionally giving him a sly glance. It was clear that he was looking at her and knew she was looking back. She noticed her cleavage. Two big white and loose breasts hung and moved slowly with her breathing under the balcony. They heated her up, she always liked big breasts.

She felt heat and her cock bursting inside her pants. She left the window for a minute, had to go to the bathroom. She went to get a beer from the fridge and then pulled down her jeans, leaving her in boxers. With the can in hand and no pants on, she approached the window again to see what her neighbor was up to and couldn't believe it.

She saw when her neighbor left the window. The mice in her head were flying high already and she was at that point of no return. She entered the apartment, changed the music to the one she always used for yoga, took off her top until she was completely naked, grabbed the mat and stretched it out on the balcony.

Standing with her back to him in a very straight position, she was completely naked. He saw her tense back, her big ass with some cellulite, her strong and white legs. Her red locks falling onto her shoulders. With her head slightly bowed, she seemed to be joining her hands over her chest as if praying. Suddenly, she lifted her hands above her head and arched her back. Her ass contracted towards the front, squeezing together. He couldn't take his eyes off that beautiful ass and her hand on... cock.
He was like that for a few seconds until he suddenly arched completely forward, supporting his forehead between his knees, then placing his hands on the floor in front of his feet, with his head lifted looking straight ahead and giving him the show of his hairy butt and pussy exposed openly to his lustful eyes. He never got along well with genital depilation or booty waxing. His hand didn't stop rubbing the cock that was already leaking anxious drops of precum, leaving his head sweaty and hard like a rock.

She felt a volcano emerging from her vagina as she went padajastana and saw him looking at her with his eyes wide open between her knees. She felt her holes opening up to his view, somehow being penetrated by those unknown eyes. The flows started to soak her pussy. In that position, he began to relax the muscles of his ass, letting it open a little and then closing it, feeling pleasure in that relaxation, as if calling for the desired cock.

I brought my leg back, supporting my heel and knee on the floor. His open pussy needed the touch of his hand. I don't know how long I can hold out and started to caress his hard and soaked clitoris with five or six touches, making her tremble with pleasure. The electricity ran through her body. She threw her head back in a genuine pleasure groan. She touched herself for a few seconds more and continued, wanting to give the complete show to her new friend.

He saw me extend my leg and start to masturbate in that position. He saw me throw my head back feeling a spasm of pleasure and his mind exploded. He took off his boxer shorts and sat down on the couch to masturbate and enjoy his neighbor. He had to slow down the masturbation not to cum, he had to restrain himself not to cum right there. But he couldn't because his neighbor's next position was to bring her feet together, supporting her hands on the floor and lifted his ass as high as he could, leaving him with the vision of the appetizing holes again. She was barely moving her hips, offering them to him, telling them they were hers. He finished on her stomach and hand, getting stuck in the groove, but not quite emptying it completely of the heat of the moment. It was only a small liberation to continue bonning, desperate to get what he loved.

And then came ashtanga namaskar, and with the agitated breathing from the heat she had, she put her knees on the floor and slowly brought her ass to her heels, with her forearms and chin resting on the floor. Rolled up that way, with her ass open as much as possible, exposing her butt in the most impudent and dirty way, she felt like the happiest slut on the third floor.

She passed a hand under her belly until it reached her pussy. She started touching it hard, very hard, enjoying herself for him, whom she imagined was pounding her ass with a cock she imagined to be huge and firm. She was bonning and moving her ass in circles. From the heat, she started licking her mat, wanting a cumshot in her mouth, a thousand hands exploring her, ten pipes penetrating her through a hundred pleasure holes.

With her fingers full of her fluids, she passed her arm over her hip until it reached her ass. She started putting one finger and then two in, slowly opening her anus, feeling the muscles yielding to the pressure of her fingers and her pleasure that wanted to feel it filled with cock.

But she stopped, it wasn't time for cum yet. She liked prolonging the pleasure to the point of unbearable.

With the cock still full of cum that didn't bother to clean up and her hand unable to stop bonning herself, he almost exploded again in front of the open butt and her putting her hand between her legs, hot like a slut in heat. She relaxed the pressure when she saw him turn around, not knowing what was going to happen. And it was better.

Lying on her stomach with her head towards the street, she put her hands on the floor. shoulders and lifted the chest, with her head towards the back offering him the breasts. Enormous, fleshy, a little gelatinous, with small and pink nipples. Enormous bouncing breasts that invited him to double the pressure on the cock. She moved her hips, feeling the floor rubbing against her clitoris, as if they were taking each other at a distance, as if his cock could penetrate her through the street. That idea made him lose control again. Additionally, he started caressing his testicles with the other hand. First the testicles and then the area beneath them until reaching the butt. He was enjoying his ass and wanted to show it to her too.

After the cobra, she hurriedly finished the salute to the sun. She was too hot to concentrate, so she stopped in the original position, looking out the window at her neighbor's window, and the sight made her gush with floods of water.

He was sitting on a bare couch, with his cock hard and enormous, uncontrollably paged with one hand. His legs were open over the armrests and the other hand was inserting two fingers into the butt.

She approached the railing and leaned against it with one arm and with the other she masturbated to death seeing that hot male in front of her, enjoying her ass and seeing him too. She inserted three fingers into the soaked crotch and gave herself all her strength to get out the most intense orgasm she had in a long time. In reality, there were two, one after the other. So strong that it left her trembling, defenseless, barely holding onto the railing and seeing that at the same time three jets of cum were splashing her belly, hair, and even an unknown neighbor's cheek.

The silence won out again on the street.

The quarantine would no longer be so lonely.