gina simpsons

“Too late….UnhhhhAhhh…” Semen spurted from my cock, the first few shots clearing Mrs. B. almost entirely, landing on some papers on the far side of her desk. Smaller droplets peppered her hair. Once the strong spurts were spent, my cock deposited a sizable puddle of jizz on her back. It settled in the small of her back in the indentation of her spine.

“Let me give you a ride, Jim. You don’t even need to change.” I said thanks and grabbed my stuff. I climbed into the passenger side. Mrs. B. was driving one of the massive cars of the day, a Delta 88 or something. She turned out of the school parking lot, turning away from the the way to my house. “I want to pick up something at my house first. Give you a chance to see where I live.”

Then, I would help him with his alchemy, and the things I learned amaze me to this day. To see the world in its smallest shards, it changes you. Before I met him, I lived in a tent in the grasslands, and now I’m being taught how the universe works and how to turn worthless dirt into priceless gems. It’s both humbling and encouraging. And when he wasn’t fighting the Profane, he was helping Welindar advance in farming, mining, and sanitation, almost rebuilding it from the ground up. For him to know so much, this man who was recognized by the spirits, it was awe-inspiring. I wanted to entrust everything to him, to follow him forever, because I knew whichever direction he went was the right one.”