THYRA ROLLED HER INSANE, colorless eyes. "How much gold is on board?"
Eotigan gulped. Did she just ask that? His mission just became harder. Could he come up with a plan to keep all the treasure and get in Thyra's tight-ass pants too?
"Shit." He mumbled. "Of course you know about the gold. You saw it, didn't you?"
He looked to Thyra when he said this. The woman calmly accepted, "yeah I did." And he studied her as she went over to the olives desk in the captains office and balanced her robust glutes on its edge. Her butt was so big it brushed the Bonsai tree seven inches away—this gave Eotigan's forever dirty mind an inkling on just how far apart he could spread them cheeks. He'd bet a river of fairydust her ass clapped when she farted. This filthy thought made his little brother awaken in girthy might.
