Foot On Chest Victory Pose Novels & Stories

Ben was placed at the corner of the room by the teacher. The teacher went to the front ,and stood in front of them. 'Everyone remove your shoes ' The students slowly removed their shoes ,and sat in the cushion bare foot. 'The pose in which I sat today in front of you is called as bhatmasana , a form in yoga used for breathing exercises ,now you all should sit in that form.' The students felt slightly difficult to sit in the pose, the teacher slowly corrected everyone of them ,and made them sit in the proper pose.

Gian replied innocently, though his mischievous eyes gave him away. Wina moved on to the first pose: the supported child’s pose. The mothers were instructed to kneel and lower their upper bodies forward with their arms stretched out in front of them, while their husbands stood behind them to provide support at their hips. Aurelia slowly lowered herself, feeling a gentle stretch across her back. Gian carefully placed his hands on her hips. But somehow, he positioned them wrong and nearly pushed Aurelia forward. “Oops! Sorry, sorry!” Gian quickly said, his face turning red when Aurelia looked back at him with an expression that was half annoyed and half amused.

I helped him find the perfect playlist and I got to the side of the bed, doing a little tumble and putting my leg above my head in a symmetrical position. “Damn, sweetheart! That is a perfect pose.” He stood up from where he was seated and moved towards me, grabbing the soles of my feet and putting his mouth around it “I want you to remain in this position for as long as you can hold it.” I put the palms of my hand down so my weight would be reflected to the shaft of my arms and I was able to balance myself better. “Yes, Doxante!” I said in a very teasing and erotic tone and he smiled at me and sucked on my feet even harder.

When I do it, he looks at my feet and tries correcting them too. "When you want to defend yourself, you take this posture." He explains kindly making me nod obediently. "Okay. Stand then stretch for five seconds and get into this posture again. I do so but make sure to mix up the hands before getting them right. He nods encouragingly making me smile at him. I really want to laugh but I keep it in.

“Show me the stance.” I set my feet. He shook his head. “Wider.” I moved them. “Still wrong.” He came around behind me. I felt the heat of him before I felt his hands. Both palms on my hips. Firm. Adjusting. His chest almost against my back. “Here,” he said. Quiet. “Weight on the inside of the foot. Not the heel.” My pulse jumped so hard I thought he would feel it through my skin. His hands stayed. Not long. Long enough.

That perfect position that would have left him completely exposed to Cade if bare. "Push yourself onto your knees. Put your arms behind your back, elbows straight and hold one fist in the other." The directions were firm, and Victor seemed relieved to have them. There was no hesitation in his movements as he pushed himself so he was on his knees with his shins flat on the floor while the flat top of his feet helped to balance him. He did his best to imagine what it was Cade wanted, placing his fingers within each other.

“We’ll start simple. Just follow my lead.” The first few poses weren’t so bad—just stretching, bending, holding my balance. I could handle that. But then he had me try something he called a “warrior pose,” and my legs immediately began to tremble. “This feels wrong,” I muttered, wobbling. “I don’t think so,” he whispered. I tried to hold the pose, but my foot slipped, and I nearly toppled sideways. Liam caught me by the waist, steadying me with ease. His hands were warm, firm, grounding.

When we finally released I was shaking. The class continued. Bridge pose had me lifting my hips high, pelvis tilted up, feet planted. The position was obscene. I felt exposed and desperate. Andrew walked past and I swore his eyes lingered on the arch of my body. Or maybe I was just projecting my own hunger onto him.

“On your knees. Hands behind your back.” I obey without hesitation, pushing myself up onto my knees, my ass bare and no doubt marked from his hands, his cock, his teeth. The position forces my chest forward, my nipples hard and aching. I lace my fingers together behind my back, the movement arching my spine, thrusting my ass higher into the air.

“I’m not trying to send a message. I just don’t want to die next time someone points a gun at me.” His smirk faded, replaced by something sharper. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.” He stepped closer and lifted my arms into a basic stance. His touch was gentle but firm, fingers adjusting my elbow, my wrist, my footwork. “Feet shoulder-width apart. Chin down. Eyes forward.” “Like this?” I asked, attempting to copy him. He circled me slowly. “You look like you’re posing for a fight. Not actually in one.” I jabbed out weakly.