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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.

He then tossed Viktor aside and left both the ring, and a fearful and disillusioned audience. Looking into the stands, he spotted Falco and gave him a thumbs up. Hopefully, this made up for sabotaging him in his fight. Many knights were also in the stands, all having sudden flashbacks to the last Knight’s Day. Watching Reiss tear Viktor apart reminded them of when the Wandering Spirit pummeled Seraph until he tried to kill himself. The brutality was precisely the same, imparting the unforgettable chill upon their spines.

She once again bent down and wrapped her lips around his cock and started to suck. She wanted to drink her dad like a straw, but unfortunately there wasn’t much more to have just yet. Desperate for more of her father’s essence, she licked the tip with flicks of her tongue, then with long swirls, while suctioning the head. Her other hand squeezed the base of his cock harder, keeping it angled as close to her mouth as she could as it throbbed steadily with the beat of his heart. Small drips of precum started to form at head of his penis, but with a single swipe of her tongue they were gone. It wasn’t enough.