Dirty Yoga

A Sexual Fantasy

— By Lucy Calavera

I’ve always longed for a secret, private room in the middle of our busy city.
To read, to write. To practice yoga. And to fuck furiously with my lover, who lives in the same city.
Hotel rooms are impersonal. And expensive. For weeks I was looking for a nice and private hideaway, to do all the things you want to do. To get them out of your system, so you can be a better mum, a better wife. So every week I book a few hours in a shared practice room, in our local spiritual centre. It’s a serene place, smelling of incense. The caretaker is a friendly hippie guy who charges next to nothing. He has lovely long hair and a sexy beard. I always say hi with a grin, because I’m kind of defiling his sacred space of good and clean intentions. Like a modern day Kali, the goddess of sex and destruction. Hey, those things are crucial to life itself. Sex and death and religion and ecstasy. Being fucked on a church altar is yet another fantasy that I have, but churches are quickly converted into homes or offices these days. Yoga centres, they’re everywhere though.

I’ve got a desk for writing. A bunch of yoga mats and meditation pillows. The place is sunny and austere, white walls, just a few candles in the windowsill. And the best thing: I’ve got an examination table for very close inspections and perverted massage.

Here I am, on the floor, doing my yoga practice in the tightest of pants. Stretching, bending. Cats pose, back arched. I sway my hips and ass seductively. Because my lover has a key and he can creep in at any moment. My legs are open wide. Yoga becomes a brutal sort of tantra. The most difficult part is not screaming out when he fucks me in all these athletic positions. One day we can’t help screaming, moaning. The caretaker knocks on the door. Or maybe he’s peeking at us, through the Eye of Horus symbol that’s on the wall. And we let him in. And I really, really let him in. Inside of me. Two men, on the mats, on the practice table. I am truly Kali, dancing on top of my men, all those hands, licking with that goddess tongue. Devouring the world. And the seed of my lovers.