Riley arrived ten minutes early, ponytail already perfect, wearing those tiny black shorts that rode up between her cheeks every time she moved and a cropped white tank so thin I could see the dark outline of her areolas through it. She stepped inside the studio, locked eyes with me, and immediately looked down at the floor like she knew what was coming. Her breathing was already quick. Her n*****s were poking hard against the fabric before I even said a word.
I locked the door. Dimmed the lights just enough that the mirrors still caught every angle but the room felt smaller, more private, more dangerous.
“Warm-up,” I told her. “Down on the mat. Legs wide. Butterfly stretch. Hold it.”
She dropped fast. Spread her thighs as far as they would go. I knelt right behind her, chest pressed to
