Did I mention it stank like fish? Well, it did. It stank very, very badly of fish. It sure as shit wasn’t me stinking like that, because I keep my snatch clean. I mean, you can’t let a guy go down on you if you don’t keep your shit so fresh and so clean-clean. But I digress. I’M FUCKING BORED. That was my mantra for so long I lost the capacity to think of anything else. There wasn’t room to pace, except for maybe a step in either direction. It was pitch black. It was cold. The boat didn’t toss me around too badly, but once in while the boat would angle up, sending me sliding backward, and then it would pitch down, sending me forward…over and over and over. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to brace myself with or against. I tried sitting in each of the four corners, but a pitch or a roll of the boat and I’d be sliding all over the place anyway. I was hungry. Thirsty. Tired. And bored. Did I mention bored? I’m an active girl. I’m busy from six in the morning to past midnight most days—or I used to be.
