Turn back

Whatever's going on here, you'd rather not face it. At least you can see tentacles, and fight them. Holding your breath, you turn around and begin to slog back the way you came, tucking your pistol into your waistband.

The water, and the hazy warmth in your loins, hinder your movement a bit. You make it about three feet before inhaling again, and your head spins as the heat inside you intensifies. You can feel your pussy beginning to moisten, and the material of your sweat-soaked shirt rasping across your hard, sensitive nipples. Your skin seems much more sensitive, noting the rough material of your jeans against your legs, the tight grasp of your boots about your feet, even each droplet of sweat on your body. Part of your mind realizes that the air in this room is an aphrodisiac, and violently squashes your mind's desire to masturbate, even if your body continues to demand it.

You continue to slog forward, despite how cloudy your mind has become, intent on getting back into that pipe, and maybe up it a ways. As you push through the water, a distant part of you notes how your boots seem somehow looser, and your jeans aren't as tight against your legs, but it doesn't register as important at the moment.

You make it to the pipe, and plant your hands on it, pushing upwards with dwindling reserves of strength. You manage to heave yourself into the pipe again, feeling something rough slide loosely past your feet as you do. Groaning, you stagger to your feet, and stumble up the pipe a bit, grabbing a breath of much fresher air as you do. It helps clear your head a bit, as does the cooler air drifting down the pipe, though the faint breeze of your movement ensure your hard nipples stab into your shirt. The sway of your breasts beneath it drags them against the material, sending a nearly-continuous wave of pleasure to your loins, until you stop.

Your body is demanding attention, juices soaking your panties as you stand there, and you desperately want to satisfy those urges, despite your current situation.