The fat Dutch master of the craft would sooner lose his cargo than his life, ship, or crew. Our empty hold would carry much booty…. and perhaps a fe... ‘passengers’ as well. Aboard the Dutch trader, the skipper was indeed sailing without great care. Unwilling to pay the costs of an armed companion ship, he believed cover of darkness would protect him as he dashed with full sail between ports. His lookout in the crow’s nest had warned of sail upwind, but the incoming darkness of a cloudbank. "Do you see?" he asked.Clearly Mark saw a large bulge that snaked down his right leg. Quinton's dress pants were tight enough to revel his massive hardon. But Mark thought it was best to play it cool. "No, not really. Its kind of dark in here."Quinton motioned for Mark to scoot over into the booth so he could sit right next to him, surprising Mark. Mark slid over and Quinton sat next to him. Grabbing Mark's hand without any resistance he paced it on his right thigh but Mark could immediately. More

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