plants versus zombies tree of wisdom

“Holy shit, I have got to get a copy of your Dad’s book. It’s got some good moves in it,” she said with a laugh. I was concentrating on the sight of the head of my cock poking out and disappearing back in her crack. I was breathing heavily and was going to cum pretty fast even though I had already relieved the pressure twice that day. Mrs. B. sensed I was close.

“It was definitely intense at the beginning, but I figured it out. Like I told you before, I have extensively studied martial arts. Mastery over one’s body is fundamental. I can already feel my magic growing stronger thanks to it. We have some time before the intermission ends. Shall I begin teaching you the workout? I feel like I get the best results when I do it while wearing this.”

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.