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After my boner mishap, either she was getting more daring, or my imagination was running wilder. One day Mrs. B. was wearing one of her short short skirts, no stockings, just muscular shapely legs. She couldn’t help but notice me watching her move around the room. She stopped at the desk of the student in front of me and bent at the waist to look at her paper. When she slid her hands between her thighs and bent a little farther, her skirt raised exposing her panties. They were red. And lacey. I thought she gave me a sidewards glance to see if I noticed. Maybe not. It really didn’t matter, though. As soon as I glimpsed those skimpy panties, I came in my pants. Right then. In class. I’m not proud, but I was only 15, I could cum at a good card trick. I had it bad.

He couldn't understand me, of course, but he couldn't have cared less; he knew what to do. I gasped loudly as I felt his knot sliding inside, swelling immediately once it was in me, sealing us tight. He was thrusting his hips even faster now, secure in the knowledge that he couldn't come out, taking his prize just as hard and fast as he could. I moaned happily, but I didn't let myself close my eyes. I stared up into the bed, and the look of absolute shock on Mom's face as she watched her supposedly innocent little baby girl getting doggie-fucked right in front of her, made me cum in about ten seconds flat!

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.