#1183 - Amongst Scott’s squealing like a pig, I imagine Millie was now a bit frightened herself as her bra finds itself being my anchor onto the boat as it still clings onto Millie’s body, as we are flipped around like ragdolls in the pitch black tunnel. For so long I had been self-conscious, and not actually thought of what others may think of my body. “Ugh, my head…” I mutter, a throbbing pain making it hard to see my surroundings.
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