The Brass God

14747495460_e790e9756f_o thumbnail
34450212-6348149309_b9468257b4_o[1] thumbnail
43798406-7810077832_cbaafecd28_o thumbnail
14747495460_e790e9756f_o
34450212-6348149309_b9468257b4_o[1]
43798406-7810077832_cbaafecd28_o

A remote Caribbean Island… A beachcomber who took what he wanted… And a blonde who was there for the taking

From the back

This Girl For Hire

She was blond, thin-waisted, stacked high… and she was asking for a job on my boat. “Sorry,” I said, “but somehow I can’t see you swabbing decks or scraping barnacles.” “There are other ways I can be useful,” she said. “Doing what?” “Anything, honey. Just anything at all.” Call me a damn fool and you’d be right. We were a two-man yawl bound from St. Thomas for Doubleshot Key, with plenty of predictable hell in our future. Still, the lady was willing, and it seemed only fair to let her show what she could do…

via via

One thought on “The Brass God”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *