My yoga instructor (well the one on Tuesdays and Thursdays) is really hot. His name is James and he's pasty, English, slightly scruffy, devoid of body odor, and has decent teeth.
I have an ongoing internal debate over whether the idea of chasing my yogi is too cliched or if I should just say "fuck it" and try to sit on his face.
But then, I have this fear stemming from an episode of "Sex in the City" (I HATE that show, but it's nearly impossible to avoid) where Samantha went after her yogi only to find out he was celibate, even though he would meditate with a hard-on. I can't handle the possibility of rejection, although rejection as part of a whole versus a personal rejection is probably less shitty.
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