Suddenly she stopped and looked about, sniffing the air. “Do you smell that?” she asked. I looked around. All I could smell was her perfume and ...y arousal. She sniffed again. “It smells like…like someone’s turned on.” She looked at me quizzically. “Are you turned on?” I was so ashamed that I shook my head. “Is your pussy wet?” I shook my head again, mortified. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me, but I think I’ll check anyway. Is that okay?” she asked sweetly. I shook my head, knowing. The instructor moved on and John overcome with the feelings and intoxicated by that scent, filled his trunks in what must have been a spectacular way. The class, that particular position completed, stepped away a pace, turning to face one another, she with a self-satisfied smile appearing on her face as her eyes dropped to his wet fronted trunks. John now conscious of her gaze, blushing the colour of a fire engine and avoiding her smile! Like sumo wrestlers they bowed to one another, a class. More

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