armored skeptic

I had the worst crush on Mrs. B. It was in her class that I learned that I have a fatal weakness for redheads. I loved to watch her move through the room. She wore skirts and dresses that were too short for female students, but no one complained. It’s just who she was. She had lovely legs, no reason not to let the world see them. When she wore pants (they were just recently allowed), they were skintight, revealing a cute tight little ass. Tops were also tight, often with some cleavage showing between her pretty B-cup breasts.

Suffice it to say, Valia wasn’t giving Noah an inch. On the plus side, he had completely forgotten about his magical restraints, as he was too preoccupied with fending her off and trying to circumvent her guard. The effort needed to move never got easier, but it was steadily becoming second nature, and it all came down to stamina. He was doing better than he thought we would. He could also sense how much Valia had dulled during her weeks of recovery, but her skills were sharpening with every clash of their swords. Her muscles, which had softened from bedrest, were regaining their firmness.Eventually, the two of them separated, each gasping for air. “Ready to take back what you said?” Valia teased.

Sarah swallowed; her mouth suddenly dry with nervousness. She was sweating from the strain of holding herself in place, but that sudden slickness gave her an idea. Easing her pressure on the bed her body weight now mostly fell on her father, her breasts crushed against his chest. Pushing forward with her hands her body slipped an inch down her father, and that inch translated to an inch down below. It was more sudden than she intended, her father’s tip pushed fast and hard past her lips and into her dripping pussy. She moaned in ecstasy, unable to hold it in. She could feel him inside her now, stretching her opening and with it, feel the beat of his heart in her most sensitive place. She was on fire.