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She enjoyed even this feeling as her dad’s leg hair rubbed against her shaved legs. She wore only a night shirt and a pair of panties, so she got to experience the warmth and feeling all the way up to her thighs. She raised one of her legs up and over his own without even thinking, hoping to wrap around his big tree trunk like leg. Doing it as carefully as possible so as not to wake him, she tilted on her side and got her right leg over his being careful not to put too much weight on him. Sarah wriggled in delight at the feeling, a big hot and hairy leg that tickled her every time she moved, from the tips of her toes to the inside of her thighs.

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.

Mrs. B. was very different, though. Our class only met once a week, but there were times when she and I would cross paths in the course of a day. I noticed that either she must have changed her path to avoid me or averted her gaze when we did cross paths. She did not appear to be her usual ebullient self. She was noticeably absent from her office during times I would usually drop in to say hello. I guessed the experience was not the life changing event for her as it was for me.