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Being a horny 15-year-old (almost 16!) with a bad crush I tried to hang around Mrs. B. as much as possible. I went to her office for help with assignments when I didn’t really need it. I took every opportunity to touch her arm to get her attention or sometimes give her a friendly squeeze or hug. She always reciprocated with a smile. I imagined she enjoyed my company.

“Yeah, I liked it too much, and that it why it’s not going to happen again,” she said with perhaps too much candor. I stepped toward her and hugged her. She put her hands against my chest as if to push me off, but then changed her mind and let me hold her. Her fingers played with the placket of my shirt. I lifted her chin to face me. “We can’t…” She looked frightened but pressed her lips against mine as we shared another amazing kiss. I dropped my hand and cupped her pretty ass. She didn’t resist. I slowly lifted her short dress and reached inside her lacy panties and caressed her baby smooth ass cheek.

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.