thrud thorsdottir

Noah started with one finger, sending his mana surging through the muscle fibers, and soon could lift it. He could still feel the headband trying to restrict him, but now he could push back. He did the same to his other fingers, soon gaining full control of his hand. The effort required was considerable, but this manner of controlling his mana was not dissimilar to how he could control his clone. Rather than something he would wear like a disguise, he simply had to think of his clone as something that existed within him, under his skin.

The school year was coming to an end and I was busying myself with spring sports. I was doing track and field, distance events like the 1,500-meter run. I also tried my hand at pole vaulting, which did not go well. I had to quit vaulting before I really hurt myself. One particularly grueling Friday at practice, I noticed Mrs. B. in the bleachers watching. Faculty often wandered out to watch teams practice or play, but Mrs. B was rarely among them. She lingered when the practice was over, so I went over to say hi. She seemed genuinely happy to see me, even though she had been quite aloof in class or in the hallway.

Once she was settled and sure her dad wasn’t stirring, she could finally appreciate her prize. Just a few inches below her was her father’s penis. Easing herself down a bit more she buried her nose right above the base of it and into the thicket of his pubes. She inhaled deeply and shuddered. It was just as good as she remembered. She pressed down further burying her mouth as well into the scratchy patch of hair and continued to sniff. Sarah moved her nose all around the patch of hair, wanting to enjoy every part of it before moving on.