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... rong that he couldn’t move, like a fly caught in a spider’s web.
Kuuuuk.
Her massive chest pressed down on his head.
Mion’s soft belly pressed against his face, making it hard to breathe.
The smell of sweat should have been sour.
But Mion’s stomach smelled of soft, rich milk.
What should he call it?
If he had to name it, it was the scent of "mamma."
Sniff sniff.
As he was forced to inhale Mion’s body scent, the dangerous ala ...
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