Mr. Larson made his entrance, followed, as usual, by a crew of Seniors and Juniors who found him hilarious. He greeted the class and introduced himsel... with his usual hour long story about his first car, his first job, his family, his military career, etc. The whole class was nearly asleep before he even took attendance and it was already half way into 8th period, the last period of the day, when he finally began our first lesson. Isabelle rested herself on my shoulder as Mr. Larson began. I stood up from his desk and removed my crop top, and then my white lacey bra releasing my now unfettered breasts which swung freely on being freed from their constraints. I thought I detected a very small glimmer of interest from this stern faced old man. “Are you trying to blackmail me into giving you a mortgage young lady?” He enquired. “Well; yes of course” I replied with my best disarming smile I could manage. “That won’t work with me you know” He said. We’ll see about that I thought to. He wore black boxer shorts, soft and clinging, which he knew accentuated every bulge. Button fly trousers in heavy denim made the most of his 6’0 frame, and the shirt of midnight blue was heavy enough to conceal the details but light enough to stop him overheating. The coarse grain of the material rasped slightly to the touch, and the tactile inducement it gave was a favourite of his. Freshly showered and shaved, he felt good about tonight. Certainly he was no god’s gift, he knew that, but he. The outer lens sees in the thermal range. Behind it and in the middle of the tube you have cross hairs like in a scope."I looked at them and then the drawing, "at the back end you create a logic crystal. This locks the images into memory. On the missile you have eight fins. The rear four are to keep it stable and the middle four can move. The logic crystal is like the positive side of a magnet and the thermal image is the negative."My uncle was nodding and so were most of the mages. I grinned,.