A while back I started to attend the ‘Naked Yoga For Men’ class in my home city of Amsterdam. Although living with a woman for many years, I had always been drawn to guys in my sexual fantasies. It started off when I was in my university rowing crew; spending hours at a time with beautiful, tall men provided me with the opportunity to explore semi naked bodies, and I liked what I saw.

Whilst firmly in the bisexual camp in my fantasy world, I have always dated girls and enjoy the romance and sexual energy that women bring to a relationship. I was happy with the way I carve things up; whilst I devoted time and emotion to my girlfriend in the real world, watching gay and bisexual porn and performing for guys on cam gave me the outlet I needed to indulge my gay side, albeit that it was never ‘in the flesh’.

I’d been taking the same yoga classes for several year when the opportunity for naked yoga presented itself.

I remember the evening well. I was changing for another session of Ashtanga Yoga that was being held in a beautiful studio in the canal belt. I was in the changing rooms when a friend of mine called Dion walked in. We met in class, and I’d got to know each other through initially through yoga socials and then by dinners and trips to the cinema together. He was a great guy to talk to: highly intelligent, with an acerbic and very ironic sense of humour.

Dion is gay, and I presented myself as straight, so our relationship was non-sexual in nature. However, there was something about Dion that I found incredibly sexy. He had a nice body, that’s for sure, but more than that he had a magnetic personality — his smile beamed happiness, and whenever he walked into a room, my eyes lit up.

Dion used to practice ballet — not professionally, much to his disappointment, but at school and through university. That meant he was very much in touch with his body — he could hold himself well, and had strong, lean muscles. He was able to get into Ashtanga poses that I could only dream of, but he was never one to show off about it. Rather, he was much more likely to offer help and encouragement. I found myself secretly checking him out in class. He’d wear a vest top and sports shorts that showed off his strong legs. I generally don’t like tattoos but the simple lines that he had on parts of his body followed his natural curves, accentuating his beauty.

Dion had been absent for a couple of months, and hadn’t been responding to my WhatsApp messages, so I was delighted to see him when he walked in.

“Hey Dion!” I called when I saw him.

“Hey Nicky!” he called in reply, genuinely pleased to see me, reaching forward to kiss me on my cheek.

This didn’t surprise me at all, he was Flemish and greeting a male friend with one light kiss on the cheek was normal. With the formalities over, we hugged each other tight for a while, reconnecting at a physical level after some time apart. “Been ages, man. Where’ve you been?” I enquired. He said it was a long story but that he’d love to catch up after class. So we entered the studio and got started. I ended up behind him in class, which was perfect for me. I could secretly check him out as he slid elegantly from one pose to another.

After class we stopped for tea and he told me about what happened to him and why he disappeared. He’d met a guy on a dating app, and having been to bed together, realised that they had more in common than just sex, so decided to commit to a relationship. This was a big step for Dion, his fiancé died in a climbing accident in Yosemite National Park a few years previously and he’d taken a long time to get back on his feet.

He told me that at first his boyfriend was unbelievably charming but that he became more and more controlling. He cut Dion off from everything that made him special — his yoga, dance classes, his work colleagues and friends. Then he tried to cut him off from his family. Dion realised how toxic the relationship had become, and having got up the courage, dumped him. He had started to rebuild his life which was why he was back in class.

That’s when he told me about the naked yoga. He had been thinking of signing up to see if he could find someone more suitable to date. I could feel my cock stirring with pleasure when he mentioned the class, but tried to play it cool, ignoring my raging hardness. Having weighed up the possibility, he decided to return to this class, figuring that he wasn’t quite ready for naked yoga.

As soon as I got home, I googled the class. I remember seeing the advert online and fantasising about what it might be like to be naked in front of a room full of guys. In my head the men were all gay and had nice shapely cocks. I started to masturbate myself as I clicked a browsed the site and saw that a beginners’ series of 6 classes were starting the following Thursday.

I built the fantasy in my mind where I was in class doing my stuff and then suddenly realise that some of the guys were checking me out. My inner exhibitionist is enjoying the fact that a room full of guys are staring at my naked body. I picture myself nude at the front of the class. My cock stirs to life and I start to feel blood pumping down my shaft.

This creates a ripple effect, and other members of the class also start to get hard. Suddenly I’m no longer a participant in the class, but rather I’m surrounded by a ring of naked men. And I’m now doing my best to make my yoga as erotic as possible, my erect cock on display. The other guys are trying to follow my moves, but they are distracted by my cock and their own level of arousal.

I am fisting my cock furiously as I live out this fantasy, and click on the ‘book now’ button, my face red, my body hot. I am about to shoot my load, lifting my t-shirt to prevent it being covered in come. Then I am disturbed by the click of the front door as my girlfriend Astrid arrives home and I have to very quickly tuck my cock away and open the kindle reader on my device.

My horniness has not been sated by this episode, so when Astrid comes to bed, we have the most amazing sex. She comes several times as I fuck her, unaware that whilst physically present with her, in my mind I am being pleasured by a room full of naked guys whilst I am practising my yoga.

The next morning, I woke feeling guilty and resolved that I wasn’t going to go. I was back on the website, looking for how to cancel, when I got an email confirmation from the instructor saying he was looking forward to seeing me on Thursday.

I checked the photo out that was attached to the email and liked what I saw. Jakob, the instructor, was a dancer, and so had strong, firm thighs and looked hot. I google stalked him as much as I could, finding out as many details of his life as possible. I found this amazing picture of him in tight lycra shorts, his beautifully muscled legs pumped from dancing.

I got hard again thinking about what he might look like with his shorts off. I imagined him kneeling beside me when I was in the ‘reclining bound angle’ pose, my legs open, my cock and balls on display to him. In my imagination he lifts my hand gently, placing it on his cock, before running his hand from my peritoneum, across my balls, and then to my cock. His gentle hands massage me to full hardness in front of a class of 10 perfect strangers.

Just then I hear Astrid call up to me from the kitchen, telling me that breakfast is ready. Although unsated and with my balls heavy with the promise of some cock action, I put the iPad down, slide on some pyjama shorts and head downstairs. It looks like I’m committed to attending class!

Class 1

I spend the next week obsessively thinking about naked yoga. Although experienced with women, I have never been intimate with a guy, and the thought of me being nude in a room full of men for a couple of hours is a massive turn on. I find myself searching on the internet for gay yoga, looking at every film and image that has been created on the subject.

I arrived feeling unbelievably nervous. Having parked my bike found myself standing in the street with lots of doubts. A big part of me wants to turn round and go home. As I am contemplating this I see a couple of guys walking into the building. They are laughing and chatting as they go and from the looks of things have nice bodies.

That gives me the confidence to go through with it, so I walk in, heart in mouth, not sure what to expect. What I find straight away is that the guys in the class were very chilled and good company. The people I meet are mainly returnees who have been doing this class for a while and clearly know each other. It has the feel of a social club more than a gym. Inside the building there is a small area for changing and storing bags alongside a kitchen area where you can make your own drinks and sit around a table chatting. The guys arrive early, strip and then sit around a large table wearing a sarong whilst they chat and drink tea.

As I was getting settled, who should walk in but Dion. I was surprised and delighted in equal measure, supressing a squeak as I called his name. We went through our usual greeting ritual, kissing and hugging each other.

It has to be said that Dion was more subdued, which got me thinking. I realised why; Dion was there to hook up, and people immediately assumed that we were partners. I was cramping his style. So I made a big point of telling people that Dion and I were just friends, going on to say that I had a girlfriend who I was very happy with, much to the relief of Dion.

After a few more minutes of chatting the door to the practice hall opened and our instructor called us into class by ringing a small bell. We wandered through, laying our mats out in the warm, dimly lit room.

I remember how nervous I felt the first time I slid my sarong off, exposing my naked body to the room. There were 10 to 12 of us, and on my this, my first visit, I had allowed most of the people in before me to see how things worked out before finding a space. I didn’t want to be at the front — at 195cm tall, even in the Netherlands I stand out, and was hoping to be on the second row which was also the back row of our small class.

However, since I was one of the later arrivals, I ended up at the front. I made a bee-line for the side of the room, but the instructor nodded at me whilst pointing at a space right in front of him in the centre. That left Dion out of sight of me; he had found a space on the back row in the left-hand corner.

Being at the front made me very nervous, but I had no choice but to go with it. Because Jakob had spent some of his career dancing with a professional troop was very comfortable taking centre stage. He slid off his sarong, standing naked directly in front of me. He welcomed the class and normalised what we were doing by acting very professionally.

We started with some slow warm up exercises, and I relaxed into it. The focus and concentration of getting the poses right meant that I soon forgot I was standing naked in a room with a dozen other guys. Jakob was gentle with us, doing warm up exercises sitting cross legged. He started by showing us how to move our bodies but after a few minutes stood and walked around the class spotting.

I like instructors who do that — a skilled teacher can use their hands much more quickly to tell you how to adopt the right position than they can with their voice. I was in a ‘downwards facing dog’ position, arse up in the air and gazing softly between my legs when I noticed him touching one of the other guys in class.

Jan was a regular and had been coming to Jakob’s class for a few years, so I was surprised he’d need help with a basic pose. In the subdued lighting it was difficult to see exactly what was happening. But as far as I could tell Jakob put one hand on Jan’s back, and the other on his bum. Rather than see the firm, professional touch of a teacher, Jakob slid his hand sensually down Jan’s butt, his fingers slipping slowly and deliberately down his bum crack, before moving further down further to massage his leg.

It wasn’t clear what I had seen since it was dark and I was looking out the corner of my eye, but I could have sworn that Jan’s cock was growing and twitching as that happened.

We went through a cycle, saluting the sun before going back to downward facing dog. This time Jakob had hands on another guy, and this time he did the same thing, but used two hands on his butt, rubbing from his lower back, across his bum cheek and down his legs.

I was quietly shocked, not quite believing what I’d seen. I didn’t have much time to think since yet again we cycled through the salutation, and then were back in downward dog. Jakob moved to another guy. Whilst it was dingy, I saw a quick flash of Jakob’s cock silhouetted by the lamp at the side of the room. It had grown considerably and was perhaps 20cm long and was sticking out horizontally.

I couldn’t see directly what happened next — to do so would have required that I broke the pose and quite blatantly turned around. But I knew exactly what Jakob was up to. The lamp cast a shadow of their bodies across the floor and onto the studio wall. It reminded me of a puppet play I had seen on holiday in Cambodia several years ago. I got to see his almost fully erect cock rub up against the bum of the guy beside me as he lay his hands on him. An almost silent sigh passed the lips of whoever the lucky guy was as Jakob thrust his hips back and forth, grinding his cock into his butt crack.

The thought that Jakob was hard and humping a guy puppy-dog style in class got me super excited. Whilst trying to focus on my yoga, I was aware that my cock was getting stiff quite rapidly as I processed what I just saw. I wondered what was going to happen next. It was then that Jakob told the class that there was one more cycle of that series.

Then it dawned on me that I was probably next up to be touched. Jakob was out of sight of me, cueing the guys on technique with his voice. The fact I couldn’t see him increased my anticipation as I went back into the downward facing dog position, deliberately sliding my feet out a little wider than normal just in case he wanted to touch me. I was expecting a treat, so was disappointed when Jakob slid his hand casually over my butt, assuring me my technique was fine before going onto the next guy.

I have to say that I was rather annoyed about that, particularly when I snuck a peek at what he was doing. As his hands landed on the body of the next guy, Jakob was fully hard. Rather than standing to the side of my classmate to correct his posture, was standing behind him, his hard cock rubbing up and down his crack as he spoke.

I have to say I wondered whether anyone else had seen what Jakob was up to? There appeared to be no collective recognition that Jakob was hard and touching other guys as he ran the session. Rather people kept their focus on their Yoga and appeared oblivious to the fact that their classmates were being touched.

With the exception of some really quite delicious looking and at times semi hard cocks, the the rest of the class proceeded as normal. It seemed to be accepted that Jakob touched guys as he taught them; maybe that’s why the class was full.. I was silently cursing myself for telling people I was dating a woman; it was clearly a mistake.

Class 2

I was feeling much more confident as I turned up for the second class. Usually, at the insistence of my girlfriend, I wear boring black boxers that she bought for me. When we met, she told me my underwear was too flamboyant and made a point of throwing much of the wardrobe I had when we moved in together away. However, at the back of the wardrobe I had squirreled away a beautiful pair of pink CKs with a rainbow waistband. Checking myself out in the mirror, I put on before going out, admiring my bulge and getting horny at the thought of what might happen this week.

When I arrived at the studio, I made a point of parading around in them, hoping that the other guys might react in a positive way. As usual, I was chatting with the other participants when the bell rang to signal it was time to go in. This time, I made sure I was one of the first through the door since I wanted to grab a space that let me get a better view of out what Jakob did to the other guys during class. I chose a dimly lit corner on the far right as the place where I could practice my voyeurism, and sliding off my sarong, sat cross legged on the floor waiting for the class to start.

From the off, I was watching what everyone else was doing as keenly as I could without alerting Jakob to the fact that I was checking either him or the rest of the class out. What I saw was rather sweet — many of the guys got boners during the class, their cocks growing before returning to the normal size. This made me relax — getting the odd boner seemed to be tolerated so wasn’t something I should worry about. Then, just when I started to think that I had dreamed the events of last week up, I saw Jakob touching one of the participants again.

At this point I’m standing in ‘Warrior 1’ position, one foot forward in a deep lunge with my hands up high looking at the ceiling. When I look down, I see that Jakob is touching the guy in front of me. He has one hand on the guys buttock, the other on his stomach as he tries to adjust his position. The guy smiles as he is touched, and then Jakob goes on his merry way.

We turn Warrior 1 round the other way, so now I’m facing the wall. Jakob goes to the guy beside me, I’m peeking out the side of my left eye as much as I can. This time, Jakob is more blatant, a hand on his buttock, the other on the guy’s cock. He’s squeezing and rubbing my classmates penis whilst at the same time retaining his normal relaxed voice as he cues the next move.

Watching someone getting jerked in a public place is getting to me, and look down to see my cock swell with the excitement. I’m proud of my cock — it is thick and 22cm long when hard, pointing skywards. And whilst a part of me wants others to see my erection, my shy side is a little embarrassed at my wayward cock.

Luckily, we turn back to face the other way, meaning I am at the back and not within line of sight of anyone in the class. We’re now called to ‘Warrior 2’; one leg forward in a lunge, arms parallel to our legs, pointing forward and back.

Then Jakob moves in again. This time he stands beside Jan, and rubs his semi-hard cock into the small of Jan’s back. At the same time, he’s repositioning Jan’s arms, although from what I can tell, there is little to correct.

We cycle round the exercise, and Jan does the same thing to the guy standing beside Jan. On the next cycle of Warrior 2, Jakob tries something else. Instead of standing next to the guy, he straddles the attendees back leg, allowing him to and press his cock into him. This is getting ridiculously hot — my cock is twitching like mad as I see Jakob work on this guy, who is sporting a deliciously fat boner.

We cycle through a round of poses, returning to Warrior 2 and again Jakob uses this as an opportunity to touch a participant, reaching under someone’s thigh and running his hand up towards his bum.

Again, the focus appears to be on the yoga. Tthe lights are very dim, but surely I can’t be the only one to see what is happening?? I have strong voyeuristic tendencies and watching Jakob go to work has made me really hard. My throbbing cock is itching to be touched. I fight off the urge to touch myself and once again fantasise about being touched by Jan.

Class is coming to an end and it appears that I am going to go home disappointed; I stand there wondering why I am on Jan’s shit list. Jan is winding up with a few more poses, choosing one of my favourate positions from Ashtanga in his closing sequence.

The pose is called ‘karnapidasana’ and it involves lying on your back and throwing your legs over your body until your knees come to rest either side of your head. It’s very liberating to have your bum in the air, and to feel your body curl up. And whilst there are many health benefits to doing it, I have a dirty little secret about why it’s my favourite pose: the reason that I like it is that when I am hard I can self-suck in this position.