Mofos – Sexy babe works out in yoga pants

Title: “Panting in Yoga Pants”

The camera pans over her pert, peachlike posterior as she clambers onto the yoga mat, her lithe limbs stretching and flexing, glistening with a light sheen of post-workout sweat. One would think a post-workout routine would be all about relaxation, about gentle movements and soothing breaths that untied the knots trapped in tired muscles.

But oh, how deceptive the yoga pants are.

They hug her form like jealous lovers, from the expanse of her toned thighs to the sweet swell of her womanly hips and the gentle inward curve of her waist. The mat kisses her bare feet, tipped with cute, unpolished toes. Her mass of chestnut curls cascades down her back, a wild tangle that sways and bounces with each hip-opening warrior pose and downward-facing dog.

“Take it nice and deep, Mila,” the camera man’s voice is a low rumble, almost a growl. Mila nods, sinking deeper into her forward folds. We get an eyeful of the tantalizing juncture between her muscular thighs. “Fuck, those pants. I can see every little ripple and bulge.”

Mila is all bulges by now, her movements growing more artsy and exaggerated. She rises into a handstand, flipping her legs over her head with an alacrity that suggests she’s no stranger to such acrobatic positions. Her petite breasts strain against the flimsy fabric of her sports bra, nipples poking through like twin berries. The camera zooms in on her tiny waist and the trail of aureole peeking out from the low cut neckline.

Shit. I’m rock hard, and she’s not even done with her cool-down stretch.

With the precision of a ballerina, Mila rolls up into a bridge, feet firmly planted, bum held high. The yoga pants ride dangerously low, threatening to expose the plump, hairless mounds of her pussy. With a deft tilt of her hips, the secret prize stays hidden, but the struggle is titillating all the same.

She spins into a downward-facing dog, her pert ass pointed at the ceiling like a scrumptious, fresh-baked cupcake. The camera guy zooms in close, tracing a lewd path from her cute, bouncy asscheeks, up the road of her arched spine, to the nape of her neck. Each sexy body part begs to be touched, to be worshipped.

Trailing a fingertip along the edge of his camera, the man mutters, “Dang, that would feel so good – fingertips tracing the sweet curve of her ass, a delicate ribbon of pressure that followed every pebbled edge and sandy plane. His cock twitches hard against the confines of his jeans.

“Time to unload those tight pants,” the filmmaker growls, watching with predatory focus as the girl finally unfolds herself. She sits upright, hands on the floor beside her hips, back straight, head held high. Her pert breasts bobrinae, almost at attention, in response to her rhythmic breathing.

With barely a pause, Mila rolls to her stomach, hips elevated into a lewd doggy-style pose. Her flawless pecs are pressed against the cool rubber of the mat, sheened in just the right amount of sweat. Her dick-hardening hole is nothing but a tantalizing shadow. Those yoga pants, though. They take on a shadowy, possessive presence, snugly cupping each pert cheek.

“Fuck,” the filmer groans, “I’d shimmy those spandex}.

It would be like unwrapping an exotic gift, hands skimming her sides, her hips, her thighs. With each roll, the elastic would creep lower, revealing a perfectly tanned treasure trail, a glimpse of bare, trimmed patch at the very top of her crack. “Mmm, I think she’s shaved…”

Down, down the stretchy fabric crawls, then suddenly she thrusts her hips up and the pants flip clean over her feet. Her unshaved cunt glistens, flushing pinker than her shorts ever could. The buds of her areole stiffen into hard little nubs, the perfect blank canvas for his tongue.

“Don’t stop now, Mila,” he manages, voice ragged. “Make yourself cum, baby.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, bringing two fingers to trace exquisitely along her slit, parting her delicate folds. Pre-cum oozes from his tormented tip, and the moment she brings those fingers to her mouth, it pulses violently. He wants a taste of her sweetness for himself, to lap up the luscious remains of her post-workout arousal.

“Ohhh, Mila,” he groans, “I’d lock you down in those naughty pants and never let you out.”

She proves just how flexible she is by hooking her ankles together, hugging her soles, and pushing it all the way to the floor. The man is in agony, watching her tits strain against those unforgiving tits, watching her cunt twitch and spasm as she brings herself to the brink.

The adamant clench and release of her pussy sends her hurtling over the edge into orgasm. Bright, darting sparks of ecstasy ripple through her body and she collapses in a sweaty heap on the mat.

With a groan, the camera man jerks his cock until thick ropes of cum tumble from the tip. And though she can’t see them, he aims loving each spurt squarely at sweet Mila, painting her yoga mat with his limitless lust.