k da akali

“Are you stupid?” she hissed at me. “Go to the fitting room. I’ll be there in a minute. And lose the pants.” The light finally went on for me and I raced back to the fitting room. All the doors to the stalls were open, so no one else was there. I quickly stripped out of my pants and underwear and stroked my cock to its full glory. I was admiring my dick in the full length mirror when there was a soft knock at the door.“Sir? I have some other items for you to try. May I open the door?”

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.

Still, she made me nuts. When the class would be working on an in-class assignment, she would float around the room, answering questions and offering advice. She always paused at my desk, squeezed my shoulder or rubbing it a little and ask if I needed help. I thought she kept touching me longer than she did with the other kids, massaging my shoulder or sliding her hand down to the middle of my hunched over back. I would break out in a sweat whenever she touched me, and my cock, which was in the teenage stage of always being semi hard, would become rigid and strain against the fabric of my underwear and pants.