Dynamic Wounded Pose Reference Novels & Stories

Bjorn collapsed onto his back, chest heaving, gasping for breath. The full moon’s spotlight upon his tattered body revealed a myriad of injuries. His chest was torn asunder from Chelsea’s claw swipe, and his left calf and ankle were streaked with angry red slashes. Blood poured forth from his wounds, made worse from the shock he was going into. He had to get his breathing under control. He bent his knees, and placed his hands at his sides. He was an avid yoga practitioner so he was no neophyte when it came to meditation.

I felt it everywhere. “You’re holding tension here,” she said quietly, pressing her palm just above my ass. “Breathe into it.” I did. The stretch burned good. So did her touch. We moved into pigeon pose. I was on my stomach, one leg bent under me, the other extended back. Chloe knelt beside me and put her weight on my hips, helping me sink deeper. Her chest brushed my back. I could smell her, was coconut and clean sweat. “Relax,” she whispered. Her breath was warm on my neck.

I was edging already and we were only ten minutes in. We moved through warrior poses. In warrior two my front leg bent deep, hips open, arms extended. The stretch in my inner thighs made me hyper-aware of how empty I felt. I wanted to be filled. Andrew demonstrated at the front, his body strong and balanced. When he came around to adjust me his hand slid along my inner thigh, lifting it slightly higher. The touch was professional. It did not feel professional to me. "Engage your core," he murmured close to my ear. His breath brushed my neck. "Root down through the front heel."

Would he like it? Damn, he would. What man in their right mind would resist this perfect temptation? I was finally going to get him. Lying in bed, I was busy practicing my poses as the woman in the tutorial had instructed. “Put your right hand on your hip… now arch your back slightly and let your eyes do the work.” I did as the woman instructed, and fuck, it felt so awkward. After many practices, I was finally ready. Then I heard footsteps from outside, so I quickly put on my robe, dimmed the light, and went into position.

She folded herself backwards in an awkward crab like position. “Hold that position for a moment.” Jordan told her then he approached her and removed her bra tossing it in the corner as well. “Much better. I can see the angles of your origami paper better this way.” He told her and backed away to let her resume her positions. She went into a full bizarre exaggerated yoga routine, hunching and arching her back in cat cow and wagging her hips side to side. Crane and then into a forward fold. She was in warrior one two and three if there even was a three she was in it. She posed in downward dog and cobra with her C cup breasts pushed out in front of her. All the while Jordan had begun undressing

"Lower your center of gravity, Darlene. You have strong hips, use them. Your stability is not in your arms, it's in your base." He guided me through a series of basic movements. Lunge, block, turn. Every time I moved, his body followed mine, correcting my posture with firm pressure from his hands on my waist. It was delicious torture. His breath brushed my ear as he explained where to strike to incapacitate a wolf larger than me. "Why are you doing this?" I asked, panting after completing a sequence. You could just keep me locked up in the fortress. Eryx moved away an inch, enough for the cold air to seep between us, and the loss of his warmth made me ache.

RENATO MARINO I'm not going to think about it. I'm not going to fucking think about it. But I am thinking about it. I was in a challenging yoga pose, my arms trembling with fatigue. My palm was planted firmly on the cold floor, supporting my weight as I balanced on one hand. My legs were stretched out in opposite directions, one of them bent at an awkward angle, with my hand grasping my ankle, pulling it towards my head. My other arm was stretched out to the side, providing balance and stability.

“Come here.” I lowered my hands as he stepped closer, close enough for me to smell his warm cedar scent. “Watch,” he said. He threw a slow punch, smooth and powerful. I stared. “That looks easy.” “It is. Try again.” I mimicked him. He adjusted my wrist. “Not too loose.” Then my shoulder. “Not too high.” Then my hips. “Ground yourself.” Every touch made my skin warm. I punched again. “That’s it,” he said. “Better.”

“Natural reaction. Your body already knows it needs this even if your mouth hasn’t caught up yet. Now stand in the center of the mat. Feet shoulder width apart, hands behind your head, elbows out. Eyes forward.” I moved into the position, feeling my heavy tits lift as I locked my fingers behind my head. The mirror wall showed everything,my shaved pussy lips slightly puffy and glistening, my nipples stiff, my face flushed red. Grant started circling me slowly, his boots quiet on the mat.

What the fuck was that? Warrior two requires standing with your legs wide, one knee bent, arms extended. It's a power pose, meant to make you feel strong and grounded. I feel like I'm about to pass out. Sierra demonstrates at the front of the room, her legs spread wide, her bent knee pointing toward the mirror. F rom my angle, I can see between her thighs - can see the fabric of her leggings stretched tight across her pussy, molding to her folds like a second skin. I'm going to die. I'm literally going to die of arousal in a yoga studio surrounded by middle-aged women and gym bros.