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Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.

Lick my asshole!~I wish she was sitting on me like that..I'd worship those holes like my life depends on it~It would be fine to give her relief.Come on! Aren't you excited for this, trainer?~Guhhh... Fine... We can do it... You're the alpha, after all... I'll do what you wish..S-someone save me!! O-oh god.! Not more people.!!!Looks like Serbia's in heaven~Luffy slowly and eerily fades into existance* (imma kms)Recording thus for money,I'm not even gonna question about it,robby legs is thiner than his balls :sob:I'm witnessing this as I run out of teleportation energy (I'm eepy) hope I make it out in one piece.

He reached into his inner self, feeling his energy circulating through his system, and began upping the intensity. By increasing one’s energy flow like this, a magic user could gather their strength for a spell quicker and easier. The problem was that doing it wasted energy and resulted in fatigue. Before a race, a sprinter might hop up and down or jog in place to get their blood flowing faster, allowing them to reach their peak earlier, but if they did it too much, they might find themselves out of breath when they needed it.