Half of the windows were shattered, the other half boarded up. Mr. A spotted the pimp and pulled to the curb. I stepped out and he howled at me, "whoo...hoo, fine lookin' bitch". He felt my tits and ass, then turned to Mr. A and nodded. He held out his hand and accepted several hundred dollar bills, smiled and swept them slowly underneath his nose. "The sweet smell of hard-earned cash." He turned to me and said, "let's go." By then, Mr. A was back in the car and had already started pulling. With the additional sails, Syren was lying over quite a bit, but she was also making better speed. Already, the brigantine was passing them being the superior sailor, and the schooner was not far behind. Anson could now make up the Eendracht through his glass. She was lying over from the press of her sails, eager to stop the bottle neck before the British could escape. Gauging the progress of his own ship, Anson breathed a little sigh of relief. They would reach the outlet between the islands. More

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