Moving to a new city, a new life, first semester. Our student goes to the yoga session only to find new friends that enjoy naked yoga and tantra. Practice of open-minded relaxation, shameless and permissive. »Absolutely Brillant« 5 Stars »Just awesome: Totally exciting and funny written« 5 Stars "What a bummer" she thought. Naked Yoga hadn't been her intention at all. However. . . Now the first week of their first semester was almost over and went well. She had the new apartment, she had attended all lectures on time, she had even found her way into the new city. And she had also coem up with this course 'Yoga for Women', in which, during the dull time on Friday afternoon, some of her fellow students had just arrived, and so far nothing went wrong. She had assumed that now, in the summer, she would not need a dedicated sports dress for a yoga class among female students. A simple top and any panties should be enough. She did not want to make fashion show, but she did not want to sweat - and it would be very hot, it was clear that none of these university gyms had an air-conditioning system - so a little thin, a white top and a white silk bodice would be enough. She had convinced herself that this would mean to do sports, their sports things were already not here, she was not completely moved into the new apartment. So it had to be good or bad. In the dressing room, she was teeming with female students, who, judging from their sportswear, apparently wanted to visit other courses. She had not taken care of her, had simply sanded the sandals, hatched from top, skirt and panties, had the thin top for the sport and the thin silk breeches. She put her clothes neatly on the bench, and waddled barefoot into the large-sized hall, which was so impressive when entering, that it was so large that other courses took place in parallel. But the hall was so oversized that one would hardly get into anyone's way. The exercise had begun and she had quickly noticed that something was not the way she had planned it. For, as a matter of fact, this panty was clearly unsuitable for any kind of movement. It was annoying for her after a few positions colossally. It was a little too small, so it did not completely cover their cheeks, and above all: it slipped with every movement. Apparently, the elastic band had become old and brittle, and only continued with good persuasion, or not at all. And yoga was not very poor at lush stretching movements. Like now just again. She was standing straight up, the folded hands in front of the heart chakra. Then _trunk flexes forward, arms spread like a bird_. She was flexible and could bow down, could touch the floor with her palms, even with her arms she could wrap her legs and stomp her nose on her knees. And she did so to stretch. And now, in that attitude, she could feel her dress wandering. The top wandered up the back of her body, her lower back completely free, and the panties seemed to be magically stuck in place in space and time, not moving around with her body, but lingering magically while she could as she leaned to her toes, she freed her butt more and more.
