I was at a restaurant near the store, and I was having dinner.

Is it called ravioli or eat juice with a fashionable wanton?

It still fits my mouth.

At first, I wasn't used to the vanilla flavor scattered over the soup and spit it out, but now, conversely, without this, it's not enough.

The taste is completely different, but it seems to be in a position like the leeks and drug flavor that we call it in Japan.

(Earlier, it went pretty well, but I'd like to study a little more)

In retrospect of the earlier sideline, I think so.

The young peaches, which were hard and immature, were undergoing a moderate massage which allowed them to progress in maturation, increasing sweetness and softening the pulp.

Closer to the face and inhaling the breath, the aromatic and intense aroma passes from the back of the nose to the lungs.

If you don't happen to try it, the taste is fresh and very juicy.

Thank you very much.

(I need to know more about women's bodies than I want to be an overall teacher)

I think so.

Does anybody have a good teacher?

The exact thing that comes to mind is a mourning widow who handled me in Accommodation Town, but I'm not here.

Beyond the Awok.

And I don't want to get anywhere near the Awok where Elda is.

(Anyone...)

Injuries, illnesses, or abnormalities can be cured by magic.

So the massage I'm looking for doesn't have to be therapeutic.

If it's a cover-up for magic, that's fine.

But because of this, I want you to feel better than applying the whole thing, and I think that feeling better will help me to deceive you about using magic.

I mean, while I was getting a massage and feeling better, the illness healed.

This guy's a good massage, I think.

By magic, I don't make you realize.

(Someone familiar with that kind of thing and likely to tell me... ah!

I figured it out. The more I thought of it, the more I questioned myself why I hadn't thought about it before.

(There's an instructional light patrol. Her skills are extremely high. male opponent's technology, but she must be a woman herself and more familiar with it than people)

I was satisfied with my thoughts, and after dinner, I just turned to Jaanne.

Hopefully there will be a teaching light patrol.

Upon arrival in Jayanne, he immediately asked the concierge if there were any instructional light patrols.

Unfortunately, I am at work, but I think it will be over soon in time.

I decided to book the next one. Luckily, I don't have an appointment for the next time slot.

However, I already had an appointment next time.

Looks pretty busy.

It looks like tea in the lobby,... can I have some tea? Wait for some tea.

The coffee space here is far from the chick bed but close to the sideline.

From the sideline, it gets a lot of attention.

"... hey, that's it"

"Something... that's it"

It sounds discontinuous, from the fragments of the conversation between the sidelines, that I have gained a reputation for massaging the serious illness of the Instructional Light Patrol.

Exploded Bottom Sister wasn't in the sideline seat, but her gaze from them, with almost the same level of force, is honestly uncomfortable.

"Thank you for waiting."

When I heard the concierge, I felt saved.

Take your seats immediately and head to the counter.

On the counter, the instructional light patrol had already waited with a smile.

(very colorful)

Shortly after she finished her job, she looked moist, sweaty or leftover from the shower.

I head to my room, even though I'm a little overwhelmed by too much luster.

The vibe with her that sticks perfectly to my right arm is unprecedented luv luv.

After I got to the room, I decided to have a drink and talk a little bit.

Me and her just finished a job. We could have a little break from each other.

From her, a word of thanks for curing my illness.

Words from me about how my body feels after that.

And her reply, I'm so glad she's feeling better than ever.

We had a couple of conversations before, this time the same way, and then I said a favor.

"I need you to teach me a massage."

"Massage, is it?

She shall be Kyoton.

"Isn't Master Tauro a master of massage? One massage cured my illness, which no one could cure."

I look a little serious and explain why.

"That massage keeps your body in good shape by moderately compressing the little dots around your fingertips called 'bumps'."

I say it appropriately, remembering the words of my grandfather, who was a holistic master.

"What's wrong is judged by the stiffness of each place. And healing is also done by stimulating the necessary strength."

She also looks serious and listens to me.

I guess because I can tell one end of it what way my own illness was cured.

And I'm so sorry for her, but this whole explanation is a lie.

"But in normal conditions, people's bodies have unconscious powers, to some extent. In this condition, it is difficult to find the position of the pigeon in the palpation or to stimulate the strength required only for the pigeon needed. It's not just muscle strength, it's concentration."

She snorts.

"Honestly, one to two people a day is the limit for a massage"

But I connect words.

"I've learned something recently. If the opponent's body is moderately relaxed, it is extraordinarily easier to look for and control the strength and weakness of the stimulus"

"I feel like I know"

She agrees.

"The problem here isn't that you just need to be out of strength. If you stimulate, you usually have a reaction. And while I'm checking that response, I'm stimulating the next."

Dampen your throat with a drink.

"I mean, you can't give a massage to someone who's asleep or losing their mind. I'm not responding."

I see, she agrees.

"The ideal condition is to have a relaxed body but a high response. In other words, sensitive things."

Well, she glances. I think I realized why I asked her to teach me.

"Apply a massage while boiling the opponent's water. Keep boiling so that the temperature of the hot water does not drop even during application. I want to master this technology. Massage more people if you learn"

I blush at the thought of such an excuse.

While blushing, continue.

"In learning this technology, there is no teacher more than you in my knowledge"

I stare her in the eye.

"That's why I need your help."

She must have been good at my false explanations. Smile, smile.

"Yeah, if you don't mind if I do, I'd love to"

That grin makes my heart angry with guilt.

Actually, when I thought about this excuse, there was another one on my mind.

That's a fiercely straightforward way of asking.

(You, sexy massage is amazing. Tell me how to do it too, okay? You healed your body before this.)

Yeah, more than this, I must have.

Quickly, a practical lecture by the teacher began.

It's a literally stretched class that the teacher herself used as a teaching material.

For a teacher, it seems pretty embarrassing because it's the same as explaining his weaknesses naked.

However, due to his fortitude, sincerity about his work, he carefully explains each and every one of his cheeks as he tides.

Of course, I follow the instructions and keep touching.

Touch there, touch here, slide, double-click, drag and drop.

It's like a computer class for middle-aged and elderly people, with young, beautiful instructors.

"Uh-oh!"

Drag and Drop seemed a little too strong, and the teacher flies his scolding gaze as he raises a voice that doesn't.

And his moist gaze, and his gokuri, and his saliva. What do you say, if you don't take the lecture seriously, the teacher is famous for being tough.

Keep taking teacher's hands and feet and taking classes.

A teacher who seemed to be in manor mode suddenly trembles loudly as he twirls and gently presses the mouse wheel. Was it also an incoming email?

The teacher, nagging, has a voice so small that he can't hear it, tells him it's a break.

But lately, I have a bad habit of taking breaks and wanting to study. It's called My Favorite Syndrome.

to my restlessness. The teacher, who accurately perceived my mind,

(You don't have a choice anymore)

And he allowed me to plug in the USB when I had a gentle smile that would show the troubled students.

As I slowly plugged in the USB, I whispered the precautions in my ear.

Anyway, if you load more with CPU usage at 100%, the PC could fall.

So be very careful. They say that's a pain for PC as well.

The teacher's PC was checked by the teacher himself with the task manager, and he said that it was okay to use it if he didn't do something unscrupulous.

I deliberately plugged it into the root and deployed the fucking heavy ZIP file inside, with some mischief, such as mistaking the USB.