Yoga Studio 58 - Cover

Yoga Studio 58

by Mat Twassel

Copyright© 2025 by Mat Twassel

Erotica Sex Story: Penny accompanies her uncle to Yoga Studio 58 despite her uncle's warning that the yoga is both quicky and unconventional. Illustrated.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult   Fiction   Incest   Uncle   Niece   Illustrated   .

Penny always wanted to try yoga, so when her Uncle Ed mentioned he’d started a series of private lessons at a local studio, Penny was eager to accompany him.

“I guess I could bring a guest,” Ed mused, “but,” he warned, “you might find it a little quirky.”

“Quirky might be my middle name,” Penny assured him.

“I didn’t know that,” Ed said. “But it might be a little more than quirky. More like unconventional. For instance, the sessions are clothing-free.”

“You mean like naked?” Penny’s eyes brightened.

Ed nodded.

“Well, I won’t be embarrassed if you won’t,” Penny replied. “But what about the instructor? The guru or swami whatever he’s called? Is he naked too?”

“The Yogacharya,” Ed informed his niece. “I’m not sure he’s really a he.”

“Gender neutral,” Penny said. “That’s cool. I know some theys at school. But if he, I mean they, is naked, wouldn’t you be able to tell?”

“It’s complicated,” Ed said. “I guess you’ll see for yourself.”

As it turned out, Penny couldn’t tell. Even Yogacharya’s voice was neutral, its tone soft but defined, not obviously masculine or feminine and not at all robotic. The studio walls and floor were of a wool-like fabric which absorbed sound to a degree that made the setting all but silent, nearly other-worldly. And the Yogacharya’s commands, if that’s what they were, might not have been exactly English, or any language, but simply ideas that appeared within Penny’s head or even more than that, within her body. She simply found herself doing the positions, immersed in them, and fleetingly it occurred to her that these were not conventional positions, Chakravakasana or Vrksasana or Adho Mukha Svanasana, but, whatever they were, they were grand, and she felt suffused with a dreamy peacefulness.

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She’d all but forgotten about the Yogacharya and about Uncle Ed, and then she happened to catch sight of him. He was sitting cross-legged but supported entirely by his hands, palms flat on the floor. It wasn’t that her uncle could assume such a position that surprised Penny—it was his penis. The organ was fully erect, pointing straight up, and it was huge. None of her boyfriends in high school or college had such an impressive manhood. The sight of it instantly excited Penny. She could feel the moisture of her arousal welling within her. Her eyes locked on her uncle’s cock. The inner lips of her sex swelled and opened.

The next thing she knew, Uncle Ed’s head was between her legs and he was feasting at her nether regions, his tongue teasing her clitoris and tunneling deep within her cunt while his chin bumped and brushed and pushed and prodded her asshole. This stimulation, more than thoroughly pleasurable, was well beyond any erotic experience Penny could ever have imagined except—

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Her foot was in Yogacharya’s mouth. She didn’t resist. She couldn’t have. She gave herself up to being consumed by an orgasm so powerful, so overwhelming, so obliterating, that when it was over, fifty-eight minutes later, there was nothing left of her.

 
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