maximilian goof

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

He got back to his feet and charged recklessly at Reiss. Reiss sent another air blast, but Abner dodged, though he was once more sent flying by the second that came immediately after. To his credit, he got up faster this time and took off again in a serpentine pattern, avoiding the barrage of air blasts from Reiss. Even Noah had to be careful not to be hit. Fortunately, the barrier protecting the crowd was doing its job, and every spell sent towards the stands was blocked. Abner got in close and jumped into the air, about to cut down his opponent, but Reiss was faster, and roundhouse kicked him with an added burst of wind, knocking Abner into the distance.

The fights continued, but they were becoming more and more drawn out. The weakest combatants had all been culled in the first three rounds, and now the remaining warriors were going at it with everything they had. Eventually, Noah’s first target entered the arena. He was a young man, spirited and garbed in plate mail, having won his fights with hard-won determination and effort. His name was Falco. Noah followed him outside, the warrior unaware of his presence. On the other end of the ring, his opponent arrived, another man, a few inches taller and years older, wearing dark clothes and an amused smirk upon seeing Falco. Both were brawlers, entering the ring without weapons.