From her signature, I think it’s Cutlass.”“Distance?”“Sixty-three miles, Sir. We’re both about thirty miles to the point nearest to Virgin...a Beach.”Grant looked at the chart, and said, “Unfortunately, that’s way out of our way. Do we have the ability to drop the fuel bladder with a radio locator?”“Yes, Sir.”“Do so and give Cutlass the channel. Let me know when it’s in the water and they have the signal.”“Aye aye, Skipper.Grant returned to his charts. The ones he had showed he had sufficient. “But … butgo ahead … I’ll try …! Go on! Do it … do it!” Ed White’s cock was too hard to have the slightestflexibility. He had to lean back on his haunches to lever its longthick length up between her buttocks, so that it looked like a logstretched across a chasm from his solid hairy pelvis to the smoothvale and the little dimpled mouth separating her taut white ass-cheeks. It ached with an anger, and his cum-bloated balls felt asif someone. More

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