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“Say, Havers, this is quite good. Thank you for…” The Captain looked up and made a noise that came from somewhere in his diaphragm, a cross between a teakettle’s whistle and an air-raid siren. Anthony knew how he looked, his swimsuit clinging to his thighs, water running down his chest and back and legs.
“Glad you like it,” he said, flopping down on the blanket, shaking his head to get water out of his ear.
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Getting nakey in the lakey.