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I loved my husband, but...
I really wanted to fuck my stepson, Tyler.
I never thought of yoga as masculine until I watched him go through his routine each morning.
There was something so primal about it all.
The sun warming his young, athletic body, his sweat, his abs.
He was the most erotic thing in my life, awakening something inside of me.
It was the only time I felt sexy when I was fantasizing about him, time I could really lose myself in desire.
Oh,
Good morning. Hey, morning.
So, what were you looking at out there?
Oh, nothing. Nothing,
Yeah.
I saw you watching me. No, I wasn't.
And you were masturbating.
I was not masturbating.
Kind of wish I hadn't interrupted you.
Look, I was not masturbating OK?
I'm pretty sure you were.
And I'm pretty sure you were maybe thinking of me.
Wow. Well, you were pretty full of yourself, aren't you?
Maybe...
And maybe that's why I chose that area right there.
And why is that?
Because you watching me is my fantasy.
Look, Tyler, we shouldn't be talking like this.
I know, but talking is just wasting too much time.
Oh, wait. Look, I'm sorry that you misinterpreted things,
but no, I didn't.
What about your dad?
Forget about him.
I can't forget if I'm married to him.
What? He's my father. You're married to him.
Who gives a shit.
I can never find out.
What can you tell him?
Don't let him ever find out.
What, it's like a, no. ,
What do you like, baby?
Do you like your light?
Oh,
yes. Oh, yes.
Yes,
yes,
yes
Oh, my God. Oh,
yes. Oh, yes.
Oh,
my God. Oh, yes. Oh, my
God.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God. Oh, my
God. Oh,
my
God. So
funny.
Oh, yes,
yes, yes, yes
Oh my God. Oh my God.
Oh
my
God.
Oh
my
God.
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