r mika street fighter

He pushed against the seal, using his mana to separate from his clone, but it was like he was buried in concrete. He couldn’t project his mana even a centimeter beyond his skin. It was even more difficult than performing his workout, but this was precisely what he wanted. Saimallah said that he and his fellow monks used these headbands to train their projection abilities, and there was no better way than this. As he struggled and strained, the seal began to give, ever so slightly, feeling less like concrete and more like rubber.

Down below, he heard a knock on the front door, and Shannon answered. The brief moment of distraction snapped his clone back as if it had been yanked with a tether. Once again, he was left gasping for air and dripping sweat. He deactivated his magic and ripped off his headband, immediately sighing in relief. That sensation alone was worth the stress of training, as if slipping into a hot bath.

“You’re so cute! You know I always want you to take what you want.” She looked towards the stall door. “Even if it gets me fired. Come here.” She took my hand and drew me closer. She stuck out her tongue and licked my now dangling cock at her eye level. She took it all into her mouth. “I just wanted a mouthful of your cum and I get this. My cock obliged by weakly dribbling a few drops of cum into Carol’s warm mouth. “Mmmm….best thing I’ve eaten all day.” She lifted up on one cheek and wiped her bum with the shirt. It was drenched with semen. “I’ll have to hide that one in the trash,” she smirked. “Hand me my panties. I’ve got to clean up in the ladies’ room. I’m supposed to meet my husband for lunch in 20 minutes. I hope he doesn’t notice I’m walking funny.” She pulled her panties on, smoothed her dress and arranged her hair in the mirror. She wrapped her arms around my waist and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon.” She disappeared quietly out of the door.