- All Posts
- Growing Up Bronx
Okay, you pervs, I know you came here expecting to read about some Erotic Yoga Class! But it’s not that kind of party. Well, it sort of is, but it sort of isn’t.
So what exactly am I talking about? Well, in a way I’m talking about being sexually deprived, and the effects it has on your day to day life. Today, we’ll talk about how lack of intimacy and sex can take a simple yoga class, and make it into an erotic experience filled with lust and desire.
So I don’t often take Yoga, but I’ve been trying to change that. I find that my body is very tight, has been for a long time, and I’m trying to correct that. One of the steps that I have taken, along with stretching on my own, is taking Yoga classes.
So there I was, in pain, sweating, and stretching my body into all these odd poses that I’m not very good at. Then I made the mistake of opening my eyes and looking up. I scanned the room, and then my eyes fell upon a perfect specimen, her body was perfect to my eyes. I observed her flawless form, admired her amazing level of flexibility and control, and I was utterly mesmerized by her beauty.
Now, let’s be clear here, I’m not some perv who goes to the gym simply to stare at women, I go to train, and I train very hard. Don’t get it twisted! But I am a man, and I do appreciate the female form very much. There are times that you will encounter someone so amazing, that you can’t help but be smitten. And when it comes to amazing, this woman was as perfect as one can be.
I did not become sexually aroused as I observed her, thank goodness for my control in that sense cause that would be very embarrassing. Also, I didn’t say anything to her. I’m very respectful about these types of things, and I am a married man. I won’t lie to you and say that I never look at women, cause that would be bull crap of the highest order. I look at women and I will look at women until the day that I die. But, I do my best to do so in a discreet and respectful fashion. I never cat call or say anything, I admire them from afar.
I was simply taken by her level of grace and beauty.
Later in the session, we began to do a circular movement with our mid to upper body, and I glanced over. Again, my mind went all sorts of crazy as I saw her graceful movements, and I was totally losing it. “Damn this woman is so fine!” So I looked away and tried to focus on my practice.
I closed my eyes, and did my best to remove these impure thoughts from my mind. But this was not to happen, not on this day. My desire was stimulated, so with my eyes closed, though I could not see her, I began to hear and focus on her moans and sighs, and that further sparked my erotic thoughts. Seriously, when it hits, it hits. I felt like some sort of deprived sicko, I was perfectly tuned in to her, and everything about her stimulated me in every way.
While all this was happening, I wanted to write. I wanted to take this flood of emotions and desires that were being stirred up deep down inside and put them to poetry. But at that time I could not, and by the time I could, the desire to write had left me. All poets know that this is not something we can turn on and off at will, it comes when it comes.
Anyway, I thought that it was interesting, yet sad at the same time that I could take a Yoga class, and have an internal demonic struggle happen because some of my basic needs are not being met. Can you imagine what might happen if I took that naked Yoga class we’ve all read about? I mean, I think that’s kind of gross overall, but what if you had someone like her in your class? Dear Jesus have mercy on my soul!
One of my friends teases me sometimes, she says, “Dude, some of the things you write and say at times, they make you sound kind of like a creeper. No offense, but yeah, you be sounding like a creeper on social media.”
She’s right you know, I do write some odd things, and I know damn well the responses these words may elicit, but I don’t care. Well, I do care, but not enough to sensor and deny myself. If there is one thing I hate compromising on, its my freedom of expression. I express myself, and whatever consequences may come, let them come. Actually, I’ve had friends distance out from me because of something I may have said that they didn’t like. Hey, it sucks, but I’m okay with that. I prefer that the distance is generated sooner than later. The less time and emotion invested before a loss, the better. That’s what I mean when I say “I don’t care.” I do care, but you get it.
I’m sure that posts like this one qualify as a potential creeper post. But hey, I’m a descriptive, expressive, highly erotic, emotional person, and I like to share what I feel. It’s my outlet. Some people can’t handle that, and its okay, they slowly but surely remove themselves from my life. It’s all good, I am who I am, and I do what I do.
I’m sure I’m not the first, or the last to have these types of thoughts in a Yoga class. In fact, I know for certain that many men take these classes in their pursuit of women. I hear the locker room talk, and I’ve had to check one or two when they spoke badly about someone I’m friends with.
The thing is that they try and play themselves, they lie, and attempt to make themselves appear different. But you ain’t fooling no one, so please don’t take the holier than thou attitude with me because of what I’ve said, you damn beta males!
Growing Up Bronx