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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.

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.

Daddy was incredible, with stamina that truly had to be seen to be believed, but not even he could resist my tight little pussy forever. He started groaning, his grip on my ass tightening noticeably. I tiredly pushed myself up from Mommy's chest, and just as we'd planned. Daddy reached under to grab me by my titties instead, squeezing hard and lifting me to pin me back against his chest, kissing me passionately on the lips as I turned to meet him over my shoulder. Mommy didn't know where to look, eyes darting rapidly between our kiss, my titties, and the huge, throbbing monster violently reaming my tiny, delicate little hole. I knew where my attention would have been focused! But she was still too blown away to be thinking clearly yet, so as I felt Daddy getting even closer I decided to help her out.